Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cherie Vasil didn’t hear much music on the bus. 

There were plenty of people around, no shortage of things to do on that side, but there wasn’t much music. It was all boredom or stifled resentment, maybe a hint of wistfulness from whoever on there was staring out the window while listening to a mixtape. She could try and poke at somebody, turn that boredom into something malicious, dig up that resentment into active anger or hatred, but there just no space to really do anything with that on the bus. 

She sighed and leaned a little further into her seat, toying with the dial on her MP3. Really, what did she expect, taking the midday bus. Redeyes had people there for fascinating reasons, little clues that she could partially make out, and if somebody decided to randomly enter a manic fit, well, Dad was in the area, it was a rational threat. But on buses running in the middle of the day that were already miles out from there, nobody was going to assume it was Heartbreaker or somebody finally snapping from something. 

The bright side was that her MP3 had a pretty solid battery life. 

The bus blew by a very bright road sign, the US-Canada border having just passed them, and Cherie reached over into her backpack, digging out the fake passport and license, inspecting the forgeries again. It had gotten her through the border pretty well, no need to even make the guard a little more lenient, but she was going to ditch both of them the first chance she could. They were basically one-use, and if she was caught in any way that mattered, it’d be shit regardless. 

She considered it for a moment, glanced inside her backpack to check for the knife, then decided she could do it later. Now was a horribly suspicious time to do anything of the sort. And getting caught was always the very bottom on the priority list. 

A flash of movement outside the windows caught her attention, and Cherie looked up in time to see a herd of deer running through the forest along the road, mostly adults but with a few little ones in there too. She couldn’t feel them, but she didn’t have to be basically almost psychic to tell some of them were about to run across the road. A corresponding flare of alertness from the driver poked through the monotonous chorus of boredom right after she noticed, and she seized the moment while she had it, layering on the tiniest bit of sadism. He wouldn’t notice, not while the deer were still out of the way, but when they ran in front of him, it would totally kick in. 

On cue, some of them darted to cross the road, and she dumped it on harder, trying to push the driver to actually hit one just to see what would happen, because she hadn’t seen shit since leaving Montreal, and literally anything would be better than nothing at this point–

The alarm shooting through the driver almost made her recoil in surprise, and he hit the brakes just enough to avoid ending up with deer all over the front of the bus. Everybody jerked forward, Cherie included, and the license slipped from her grip down into one of the vents on the floor. 

She just shrugged at it. Problem solved. 

“Sorry about that, folks.” The driver’s voice came through the speakers. “Just some deer in the road. We’ll be at the next stop soon, don’t worry.” 

She wouldn’t. Even if the bus broke down, she knew where she had to actually go. It wasn’t like it would be hard to miss the only city for miles when she was just following the main road. And she would get there, regardless. It really was the only interesting thing around. 

Cherie reached into her backpack again, dropping the passport, and took out the folded up printout of the PHO page she’d found. A new-ish cape showing up, making people twitch and trip. Discussion split between being a low-level shaker or master, with somebody suggesting the possibility of a blaster. All good guesses, almost cute, but Cherie knew better. That outfit was good, but hair was a very useful factor for cementing guesses as fact. 

She didn’t know why Jean-Paul had run, but she was going to do the same, and if nothing else it would be fun to mess with him. 

Brockton Bay would be great to visit. For her, at least.

Chapter Text

Cherie didn’t end up ditching the passport once she arrived in Brockton Bay. 

Her reasoning was simple, in that if she needed to get another one and book it out of Brockton for some reason, it would be cheaper and faster if she already had one to swap out instead of making an entire new one. And if anybody stopped or found her, the name not actually reading “Cherie Vasil” and instead saying “Charlotte Vails” would throw them off for at least an hour. It could be longer, if she helped. 

It said something about Brockton Bay that she thought the answer to how she would get a new passport was when she’d find one, not an if. Even if she’d had no information about the city at all, the music told her all she needed to know. It wasn’t alive in the same way Montreal was alive, the notes were almost all broken and gray, sad songs playing over miles, but there was a strange undercurrent of persistence to it all that actually made it fascinating. 

Not that she was paying much attention to that as she walked through the city’s downtown with her headphones in. She was looking for something else. 

Lacking a map and only having vaguely direction cues from her power meant she could only really tell approximately where a cape was, not who or which building specifically, but she was pretty sure all she had to do was look for somebody sufficiently dead inside to find Jean-Paul. She stopped in the street, leaning against the side of a building as she switched songs, and quickly pushed at everybody in her range to see the reactions. 

She froze mid-scroll, the song she was considering paused at the start of the chorus. 

She didn’t recognize his sound. 

“Damn.” 

Cherie debated pushing a little harder as she hit play on the song and kept walking, but scratched that plan a few steps later. If she started pulling reactions out of normal people on that scale, the passport wouldn’t be worth shit for all the people that would immediately assume she, Cherie Vasil, was in the city. And then it would all go to shit, Jean-Paul would probably run again, and it just wouldn’t be fun. 

She made the person across the street from her mad enough to punch the guy he was talking to right before walking off, though. She had to do something entertaining. 

The bayfront wind bit at her through her jacket as she walked, a piece she freely acknowledged was too thin for late March’s weather, but purple-light blue was a good color combo on her. It would probably have been the same thing she saw for something like mania, or maybe the weird kick that baseline serial killers got on a kill, if she actually saw emotions as colors. She pulled the jacket a little tighter, hair billowing around her, and kept walking. 

Time to change the plan up a little bit. If Jean-Paul was hiding in a city full of people as unfamiliar as he was, and he’d been away enough she might not be able to find his exact feeling of deadened anymore, then looking for him would require basically just waiting for cape fights and finding him there. Meaning that now, she needed somewhere to sleep until that happened. 

It took about another thirty seconds of walking for her to notice an abandoned apartment building. 

Cherie smiled and filed the address away, quickly glanced around to see where she could grab something to eat, and froze as she suddenly felt a lot of people really, really loving something several blocks away. It was an odd type of adoration, mixed with a little bit of panic and concern, plus what might have been alertness. It sounded a little like Dad’s, but more aware, somehow. 

She kept it in her range as she headed off to keep looking. 

With lack of Jean-Paul, that could be fun. 

Chapter Text

An unseen wave swept over Brockton Bay. 

It carried the faintest sensation of curiosity, poking into minds as it passed through the city. People all over, in the docks, the downtown, the suburbs, paused for a split second and wondered, attention dragged off by something else. The Merchants on the streets stopped their deals to stare at their products, entranced more than usual by their precious chemicals. The ABB members tagging up buildings peered at their bottles of spray paint, suddenly wondering what was inside their chosen markers of territory. Miss Militia glanced down at her motorcycle, racking her memory to see if Armsmaster had finished the brute tranquilizer yet, or if he’d told her. The Empire footsoldiers marching around the Medhall building suddenly paused and watched as Hookwolf strode by on the other side of the street, the changer himself occupied with the easiest way to tear through the outskirts of the ABB. Oni Lee shifted on his perch, pondering the fights that had begun breaking out along the territory’s edges, and the semi-unknowing enforced lieutenant of the man commanding those mercenaries glanced around the room at her colleagues, wondering why she knew so little about this situation yet. Brockton Bay responded, with intrigue, pondering, and consideration of a new question. 

And some of them didn’t respond at all. 

Cherie resisted dropping her head on the table for no reason visible to anybody else. 

How messed up was this city that she found at least five people that were as deadened emotionally as she remembered Jean-Paul, and she wasn’t even quite sure how many times that in a range that could have been him after getting away for long enough? Capes were supposed to be more emotionally volatile than baselines, but he was so empty it somehow balanced out and she needed something to eat. 

She decided not to try and poke the waitress to get her attention, just sipping at the glass of water on her table and looking around the restaurant again. Dining and dashing would just end up getting her banned, so her cash went to food instead of paying for a hotel, and a glance or two at some forums said that apparently Brockton Bay’s dining scene wasn’t that bad. So she found herself on the boardwalk, watching for people outside as she picked through lunch. 

Idly, she pushed a little bit of boredom into one of the other staff members, trying to elicit a reaction, and she lightened a little as the TV in the corner got louder in response. It wasn’t something that she would have usually watched, some car show probably imported from Aleph, but it was better than scanning an empty symphony for the equivalent for a muted, out of tune trumpet that had also been beat with a bat. 

Her own boredom struck at her again while her order was being taken, and she double-checked the people lurking around some capes she saw a bit further out. Some responses were what she’d expected, some weren’t, but she couldn’t actually tell if any of them were Jean-Paul after so long without poking him, and he probably wouldn’t react in a way that she could use if he didn’t know she was there. 

The table really was tempting her. 

Instead, she started digging through her backpack for a pen, accidentally tearing through the napkin as she tried to write something on it. There was probably somewhere on the boardwalk she could get a map of the city, and that was probably the best chance she’d have to figure out where he might be. Running away might have taken initiative, but he was most certainly still a lazy-ass bitch, and the odds of him actually moving around the city were abysmal. Assuming he hadn’t changed. 

Cherie stared at the sandwich and salad in front of her and almost regretted not being a little nicer to Jean-Paul. 

Considering she wasn’t planning on staying for the receipt, she slid the pen into her jacket pocket and went back to eating, listening to the area around her for a bit. There was somebody that might be a cape just stepping onto the boardwalk, that trademark volatility, but they seemed actually calm, and a little amused, a feeling that seemed to be spreading across the people near them, and it was the organic kind, not the induced kind. Some sort of performance, maybe a cape, maybe just somebody generally unstable. Could be entertaining, and she needed some of that, since Jean-Paul wasn’t showing up. 

The sandwich was pretty good, roast beef with a nice sauce, and Cherie was halfway through the salad when a giant flare of alarm shot through the outside at the same time that somebody yelled. A figure in a dark hoodie bolted by the door to the restaurant, something clutched underneath their arm and ringing of panic and exhilaration, and vanished a second later. Cherie rolled her eyes and kept picking at her food, ignoring it. The Enforcers over by where the guy was running seemed to be getting antsy, so that would get resolved, but it wasn’t really that fun to watch at that point. 

And then the same spike of adoration from the day before kicked in right as the purse snatcher seemed to go unconscious. 

She wasn’t sure if it was the same source, but it sounded the same, focused adoration of something that she couldn’t make out from there. The music around it sounded almost distorted, in a way that actually had Cherie intrigued, but not one she could tell more of without getting close. 

Probably not then, but soon. 

As soon as she got the damn cash out of her backpack.

Chapter Text

Cherie experienced half her world through music, but right then, she was still somehow completely blinded. 

“Fuck!” 

When she’d spent two days looking for the adoration spike and come up with nothing, it had taken a backseat to trying to map out where Jean-Paul was. She hadn’t been expecting it to dropkick the ABB gang members trying to mug her and then immediately flash enough terror to make anybody without master effect resistance shit their pants. 

“Oh! Sorry, sorry, sorry!” 

“God dammit, Vicky.” 

The terror died down, and Cherie dropped the hand she’d been using to shield her face, letting her actually get a look at the blonde in the white and gold skirt and boots that had just absolutely smashed at least two people into the ground. 

“Sorry, it slips out sometimes. Didn’t mean to scare you.” She stuck out her hand to Cherie. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me a little.” 

The blonde opened her mouth to say something, but a panicked yell from beside her cut her off. 

“Vicky, what the fuck?” 

A white hood popped in the side of Cherie’s vision, anger and panic radiating off of it. “Your cracked like three ribs on both these guys! ” 

The blonde gave her a defensive look. “She was cornered, I was worried, okay?” 

Cherie didn’t bother clearing her throat before speaking up, slightly more sheepish than she actually felt. “Is this what every Brockton Bay introduction’s like?” 

“You scared the new girl!” White hood’s yell radiated pure emotional exhaustion, in sync with what she actually sounded like, and Cherie decided not to poke her quite yet. That low on anything, she’d definitely notice the alterations. 

“I’ll make it up to you?” The confusion in her voice trailed off as she turned back to Cherie, a radiant smile on her face, her hand outstretched. “Sorry about that. Saw them backing you into the alley, got worried. You said you were new?” 

Cherie took her hand. “Kind of, I’ve been here a few days. I’m Charlotte Vails.” 

“Glory Girl, but just call me Victoria. That’s Panacea over there.” 

Panacea was currently squatting over two unconscious bodies several feet to Cherie’s left. “Hi. Sorry, can we talk after we get the police here? And an ambulance, maybe. I think you gave one a concussion, Vicky.” 

Victoria sighed and pulled a phone out of somewhere in her costume. “Hey? Can–oh, yeah, it’s Glory Girl. I’ve got some muggers at that alley between 8th and Fox, they’re unconscious but might need to be picked up. No yeah, they’re fine, one just might have a concussion. I kicked them…” 

Cherie raised a hand. “Can I go?” 

Panacea nodded from where she was kneeling over the unconscious gangers. “Sure, go ahead. These guys probably won’t stay long anyway, with the brains and the fact it was just a mugging. It was a mugging, right?” 

She shrugged in reply. “I think they just wanted my backpack.” 

“Fair enough.” The presumable medic cape stood up, a tired expression on your face. “I won’t make you stay if you don’t want to give your statement. They’ll probably just check them for concussions, wait for them to wake up, and leave it from there. You can go if you want.” 

“Don’t worry, though!” Victoria swooped in next to Cherie, threw an arm over her shoulder, and started trying to get Cherie to really like her without trying. “Since you’re new, if we bump into you again, we can show you around, get you introduced to the city. You got a phone?” 

Cherie shook her head. “MP3, if you can get into that.” 

“That’s not how cell service works, though?” Victoria gave her a confused look for a second before shrugging it off. “I can't, but it’s fine, I’m sure we’ll find each other again at some point. Be seeing you.” 

Panacea gave a limp wave, and Cherie returned it before walking off with a smile. One that actually stayed on as she kept walking, away from the alley and towards somewhere to maybe get a bite to eat. For somebody using something that was the equivalent of an audience member blasting an instrument in the middle of the concert, Victoria wasn’t that bad, seemed fun, and was shockingly influenceable.  Not to any massive degree, but more than she’d expected. And Panacea…

Her smile got even wider. There was so much going on in her it was hard to make it out from one quick instance with an emotional high, but dear god, there was so, so many things all at once in Panacea's head. At least a bad case of depression and resentment, with something else she wasn’t sure of yet. She had a hunch, but wasn’t certain. So much fun to have. 

This was definitely a good something to hold her over with.

Chapter Text

“No…no…that’s not him…”

The rooftop was quiet, save for the mumbling that would have sounded deranged without context. 

“No…unless he suddenly got a lot more sadistic, definitely no…wait.” 

Cherie paused for a moment, listening to something within what she’d figured out was about the ABB’s territory. It was quiet, dead, and not sounding like anything besides apathy and boredom. If she hadn’t known better, she would have assumed it was somebody braindead, but there was just enough volatility and desire to pick a fight that—

And then they were in two places at once. 

And one of them suddenly winked out. 

She groaned and made a note on the map she’d picked up. “Not ABB teleporter. Obviously.” 

Finding Jean-Paul was really starting to get on her nerves. She knew he was Regent, or at least strongly suspected it, and they had apparently been active the night before, stealing from some casino. Unfortunately, she’d been sleeping when that happened, so she was back to ignoring the really active and kind of annoying teleporter clogging up her map. 

And then somebody did the equivalent of turning on a foglight in the distance. 

Cherie folded up the map into her backpack and leaned back into the stolen lawn chair she’d dragged up. Technically the owner had given it to her, but that didn’t count and she was getting bored anyway. He’d been easy to convince, and the fewer asked questions, the better.

Victoria’s aura came into view through a different way than she did, and did before she actually came into Cherie’s line of sight, slowing to a stop in the air above Cherie.

“What are you doing on the roof?” 

“Just enjoying myself.”

“You’re on the edge of ABB territory in the evening.” 

She blinked. “Does the teleporter guy go through the roofs?” 

“Yes. Yes he does.” Victoria’s expression went grim for a second as she looked around before jumping back into a smile. “But it seems clear now, so we can get onto something else. Have you been to the boardwalk yet?” 

Cherie nodded. “I’m pretty sure I saw you knock out a purse snatcher the other day.” And she’d tried to poke another one to get her attention, but it hadn’t taken. Damn this city. 

“Yeah, that happens a lot. But have you been through the market yet?” 

She shook her head, and Victoria literally brightened. “Oh, perfect! You can’t visit and not see the market, it’s probably one of the coolest things on the boardwalk. There’s so much stuff there, and you might even catch Parian doing a show if your timing’s good.” She touched down on the roof, still smiling. “So, do you want to fly there?” 

“I’ll pass, but maybe later.” Cherie flashed her own smile back at Victoria, along with just a little bit of happiness, and gestured to the fire escape. “So which way is it again?” 

Victoria just leapt off the roof, and Cherie rolled her eyes as she jogged down the fire escape, not breaking her stride as she started following a step behind Victoria, who actually touched down for the walk. 

“So, the market’s basically this big thing that gets set up on the boardwalk, where people get to set up stalls and stuff and sell what they have, what they’ve made, plus the actual stores and everything on the boardwalk. There’s a bunch of cool stores, clothes, jewelry, cool little things like watches, it’s just honestly super cool to see all this stuff from the people in the city.” Victoria gestured a little as she spoke, waving her arms around as she explained. “It doesn’t always set up, sometimes they pack it up for like the winter or when there’s some big villain thing going on, but it’s usually open and it’s really fun.” 

“Is it expensive?”

“Nah, I can cover you.” 

Cherie smiled wider, gleeful at the tiny speck of helpfulness she’d nudged past the aura. “It’s fine. I’ve got money. Will Panacea be there?” 

Victoria nodded, smiling. 

Oh, this was looking so much better than she’d first thought.

Chapter Text

“Vicky, you can’t just drag the mugging victim on a shopping trip on her–how long have you been here?”

“A few days, but it’s fine, Panacea–is that name good? I don’t think I know your name.” 

“I’m Amy.” Amy gave Cherie a weak smile that did not sound true at all, and shot another glare at Victoria that…also didn’t sound too true. “Did you actually ask this time?”

“Yes, Ames, calm down.” Victoria tried to wave her down, having changed back into normal clothes right before Amy arrived. “We’re just gonna go through the market for a bit, nobody’s gonna die, we’ll just find some cool stuff to buy and it’ll work.” 

Amy stared at Victoria for a second more, then sighed and visibly drooped. “Alright.” Victoria just smiled as Amy fell behind her, and started walking down, constantly spinning around to point things out to Cherie. 

“That store’s usually got some nice boardwalk clothes and stuff, but there was a thing with Uber and Leet last month, so they’re still closed. Whichever restaurants are open…kind of depends on the time of the month, but I checked yesterday, and none of them have burned down so we should be good.” She waved down at the end of the boardwalk, aiming at a much denser pocket of people much further down than the three of them. “The actual market’s all down there. Are you sure you don’t want me to cover you?” 

“I’ve got plenty of cash, don’t worry.” Cherie pulled out a small stack of bills she’d convinced a few people to give her the day before. “It’ll be fine. Do you usually offer to cover the costs for everybody you meet after like, a day?” 

“Yes.” “Not always, but–Ames!” She whacked Amy on the shoulder with a smile. “Don’t sell me out like that! Please stop throwing me under the bus.” 

“If that ever happened, you’d be perfectly fine.” “Okay, yes but still!”

Amy smiled, an actual smile, and Cherie tried to listen a bit without seeming obvious. Apart from the giant interference beacon next to her, Victoria sounded normal, generally happy and upbeat. Amy absolutely rang of resentment and loneliness, a deep-seated mix of fear and depression that Cherie usually had to actually give somebody first before starting a conversation with them, but something was making it feel slightly less bad. It wasn’t induced, but it sounded a lot like…

Cherie’s eyes flickered to Victoria. 

Then Amy.

Then Victoria again and Amy. 

She immediately burst out laughing. 

Amy and Victoria stopped mocking each other, and Amy turned to Cherie, confused. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just—“ She coughed to try and stop the laughs. “What would actually happen if you threw Victoria under a bus?” 

“You know, I would test, but somebody here won’t let me try.” Victoria shot a joking glare at Amy, and Cherie ever so slightly bumped up all her responses to it before Victoria turned back to her and continued. “I think the bus would just crumple and stop.” 

“Yeah, but what would happen to the road?” Cherie waved a hand at the sidewalk. “It’s not durable. If you threw a rock at it hard enough, you’d probably win.” 

“True, that’s true.” Victoria nodded, then stopped walking and looked around. “Oh, we’re here. Amy, could you go and see how bad it is at Fugly’s? I’m gonna take Charlotte to look around and see if there’s anything she wants.”

“We are not taking her to Fugly Bob’s for her first Brockton boardwalk meal.” “Fugly Bob’s?” 

“Fine, fine. We’ll go somewhere else then. Can you go check around?” 

Amy gave an exasperated sigh, but turned and walked off, the extinguishing of the faint feeling in her a final nail of proof to Cherie. Victoria obviously didn’t notice, and just tapped Cherie on the shoulder, gesturing for her to follow through the crowd. She obliged, glancing between stalls as Victoria pointed out ones that she thought were interesting. The crowd was a little annoying to wade through, but the sheer volume of people and music made up for it, so many ways for her to do something. She nudged a bit of paranoia at one stall owner and watched as a completely innocent man was accosted on suspicion of being a pickpocket, keeping her smirk to herself, and was wondering how much the cashiers in the jewelry store would notice if they all missed a watch going missing simultaneously when Victoria dragged her to a stall with sew-on patches, saying something about her backpack. 

The actual patches were cute, but none that she were too interested in, all decent designs that just didn’t strike her fancy except for one, lying on the edge almost out of sight. Two separate patches, two halves of a broken heart, magenta with black outlines, barely in the owner’s line of sight. 

It only took tossing a spike of random panic behind her to make somebody yell and distract the owner long enough for Cherie to pocket the patches. 

“Huh, active today.” Victoria shrugged. “Weird, I didn’t see any villains. Enforcers must be having a blast.” 

“They all seem like they’ve got sticks up their asses. How do you make one smile?”

“Get caught.” 

They both snickered for a second before Cherie made a show of looking around and leaned in closer to her. “Um, I kind of wanted to mention something.” 

“O…kay?” 

“It’s about Amy. After we met, I looked up some videos of her at work, just because I wanted to see what it was like in Brockton, and, um…” 

She pushed all the suspicion she could at Victoria without her noticing. 

“Do you think she looks tired?” 

Victoria looked where they’d last seen Amy. 

And to think Cherie had been bored this morning.

Chapter Text

The sound of yelling doctors and beeping equipment echoed through the halls, a cacophony of panic that still hadn’t abated days later. The slightest deviation in readings would send at least four professionals sprinting down to a specific room, fumbling for defibrillators and emergency treatments, and all manner of antivenoms were already prepped for use. Potential donor organs were being readied to be shipped out, with experimental surgical techniques being quick-tested and simulated for use. Virtually every doctor in the city that wasn’t already at one of the civilian hospitals was on task, making sure their patient didn’t die. 

And through all that, Colin Wallis was not having a particularly good week. 

It should have, rightly, been on him to make sure the tranquilizer wouldn’t have put a target at risk like that. Simply using a method to circumvent the regeneration instead of outright canceling it would have been far less dangerous in the long run, and would most certainly not have necessitated witnessing Lung’s genitals rotting off via venom-induced necrosis. It was entirely his own fault for not checking for what could have actually knocked the gang leader out before just injecting him, and as such, the near-death experiences he had been going through for the last several days were his own fault. 

All of which added up to mean there wasn’t much he could do kicked out of his lab on the Rig. 

He was in his technically-on-duty armor, powered boots, vest, and a half-face mask covering his eyes and the sides of his head, sitting in the open offices near the Rig’s medical bay and filling out paperwork. There were doctors and nurses running past him every few minutes, not so much disturbing him for themselves as what they represented, but there was a lack of other capes in the area that he was somewhat grateful for. Assault would have been all over this incident if he were present and not currently making up for the shifts Armsmaster was not able to take up at the moment. 

He was distracted, so he wouldn’t have been doing well with PR anyway. 

An unexpected but not unfamiliar alert went off in his visor, and he dismissed it with a quick glance, working to get in the final few signatures in on this form before he’d lose the chance. The door from the visitor areas slammed open right as he lifted his pen, and he cursed the timing as somebody flew at him. 

Colin could tell Glory Girl was waving despite not actually looking at her. “Hi, Armsmaster!” 

“Glory Girl.” 

Glory Girl, in costume as she was, beamed at him. “ How’re you doing? Everything sounds great around here.” 

“I’m…” He sighed. “Could. Being taken off patrols after the Lung incident is annoying, but I should be back in the field soon. Although, if you couldn’t tell by my outfit, they have made restrictions.” 

“They’re not letting you tinker? Really?” 

“The last time I did, Lung lost something…important.” 

“Is it though.” 

The sudden deadpan threw him for a loop for a second before he got the meaning. “Technically. Speaking of which, I assume you’re here to see if we need Panacea again?” 

“Yeah, pretty much. That, and just to look around.” She dropped into a chair near him, thankfully one of the reinforced ones that Assault never used to get out of his own paperwork, and adjusted her tiara. “I was kind of hoping some of the Wards would be here, since I haven’t seen them in action for a few days. Especially Gallant.” 

That didn’t sound good. “Is this going to need an intervention?” 

She waved him off, thankfully clear on how that was an actual referral and not a rhetorical question. “No, it’s fine. It’s just, I was out with Amy the other day, and…” 

Glory Girl managed to find his eyes through the visor, and Colin was starting to wish he wasn’t anywhere near as focused on something else. “Do you ever get that feeling that you should have noticed something sooner?” 

He cleared his throat. “Unless you mean a particularly obvious clue to something, no, I haven’t had that recently.”

“But do you know that feeling?” 

He shrugged. “I know it.” 

Glory Girl actually slumped into her chair a little. “It’s just that I was talking with Amy, and I was wondering about something like when the last time she had a day off was, or when was the last time she hung out with friends, and I tried to actually ask her and she couldn’t remember, so I talked to Mom–Brandish, about it, but now she’s annoyed and Amy’s making her cut her hours and, just, god.” 

Colin himself was currently on the first days off he’d taken without being injured in months, but he could certainly see the issue in the same situation going for a teenager. “You’re upset about more than the schedule.” 

“That’s important, but it’s not the main thing!” She ran a hand over her tiara, the metal ringing a little bit against her strength. “The point is, I should have noticed how that’s all affecting her. It shouldn’t have taken months for me to notice when she could be, I don’t know, super stressed or depressed or just whatever’s eating her and–” 

He was extraordinarily glad that she had taken one of the brute-rated chairs, because the kick she’d just hit the ground with scuffed the floors and would have probably shattered a normal one. “I’m just worried Amy’s in a bad place, and I should have noticed it sooner. A lot sooner.” 

He nodded. “I understand. I’m not the most qualified to help you, but if it’s needed, I could try and get New Wave in touch with a Protectorate therapist or somebody.” 

“No, it’s fine, Armsmaster.” She sighed. “I’m just…I should have seen it sooner. She nearly passed out in the middle of a shopping trip, I should have just noticed it sooner. Heroes are supposed to help people, right?” 

“Heroes are supposed to notice these things.”

Chapter Text

“There’s something at play that is for all intents and purposes a spy in your ranks.” 

“Mostly true. So what is it?” 

“I can’t be any clearer without them figuring out I told. Just my being here is really risky.” 

Colin was going to lose his head at this rate.

He wanted to give this cape credit for opportunism, but that would understate the danger and recklessness of this plan from somebody who was on her first try as a cape. At least she thought herself a hero, for now. 

She was seeming more reckless by the minute, if her claims were true. Personal surveillance on her, or something similar, and the Undersiders had a clear culprit for that. “The Tattletale girl.” 

He turned to stare off at the PHQ. The cape clearly had something, but she wasn’t willing to spill under the threat of Tattletale. All he’d gotten out of this was information of a potential mole in the PRT or Protectorate, and a lead into the Undersiders too reticent to work and unwilling to back out. “So you’re not willing to provide any concrete information. Why did you call me?”

“They’re planning something. They want me to help them. I do this, maybe one or two other jobs, I’m sure I can get that last essential detail, and you’ll have what you need to capture these guys.” 

If it had been somebody more established, he wouldn’t have had his doubts. She had been horribly underprepared for her first night out, and decided that fighting Lung was a good idea, and now she was attempting to run what was essentially a sting operation on a group who specialized in avoiding capture. She knew there were multiple ways for her to get caught, but still tried to push her way through this. 

The cape continued. “I need to know that if things go sour or if I need to sabotage their plan, I’ll have you to pull my ass out of the fire and keep me out of jail.” 

“What are they planning?” His voice was level, but he knew he wasn’t, even hidden under his armor. 

“I can’t say.” 

“Is it murder? Is somebody going to get hurt?” 

“No, I’m pretty sure no civilians are going to get hurt, unless things go really wrong, which is something I’m hoping to prevent.” 

He frowned, and turned to look at her. His mouth opened to say something, but he stopped and noticed something else first. 

Her costume didn’t have any room for improvement. 

It seemed at least of decent quality, but there wasn’t anywhere for her to attach something not part of the initial draft. Just left as is, which felt odd for somebody with the ability to take down Lung. 

His mouth clicked shut. 

The cape fidgeted, in front of him. “Can you help?” 

Why hadn’t she disengaged back then, against Lung? She wasn’t stupid, she wouldn’t have asked for him to cover her if she felt this was a good idea. While she was taking a risk, she was at least being careful enough to not draw the attention of her suspected mole. 

He took in her body language for a second, taking in how she was standing, how tense she was, how she rested her weight. 

She was anxious, but not nervous. Like she was scared to hope for something. 

“Are your lenses removable?” 

She took a step back. “I don’t know if I feel safe doing that.” 

“That’s not what I’m asking. Are your lenses removable? I want to verify something.” 

A head shake, and he reached behind him, pulling one of his emergency filters out of his back armor. It was supposed to be for in case his helmet’s air filters broke, but it did block off the entire face below the eyes. He handed it to her. “Put this on. It’ll cover all of your face below your eyes, enough so that you won’t be giving any cameras enough facial data. I’ll look away.” 

He did, and the sound of a jostling costume served background noise to his throughts. This cape was very far from an idiot, but the decisions she was making almost felt like she contradicted that. Either she’d been extraordinarily lucky, or there was something he was missing. 

“Okay.” 

He looked back over, meeting the cape’s eyes. His suit read the cues in what he could see of her face, but he listened to his own instincts first. 

Glory Girl’s words bubbled back to the surface of his memory. 

She wasn’t stupid, no. But the faint worry lines and bags, the bare edges of bruising in the corners of her face, that all tracked to something that his own experience recalled. 

He should have noticed that nobody would actually attack Lung unless they were dangerously desperate. 

Past the point of caring about themselves.

Fuck. 

This plan was absolutely terrible, but the information she had supposedly presented had both been verified, mostly, by his lie detector, and she was clearly desperate to the point of throwing her own safety away. She hadn’t come asking for a way out, she’d just wanted to know she might have been doing something. 

If he broke her trust now, there was no way of telling what she’d do next. He couldn’t let her go when she clearly didn’t care if she got out.

“I can’t protect you.” 

The cape tensed, clenching her fists, but he raised a hand as nonaggressively as he risked. “Not because I think you’re stupid, but because if your information is true, then it will be a severe risk. I can’t give you my permission to commit a major crime, purely due to how utterly illegal it is, but if you manage to engineer this in a way to avert it–”

“I can’t. They’ll know, and I’ll get caught right away. I might get out, but the lead will be gone, and all you’ll have is names, powers, and an old location they’ll have booked it out of.” 

He exhaled through his nose. “Fine. Play your part, then. Whatever information you feel safe giving, do so, and I’ll try to arrange something. I cannot let you commit a major crime, but if you truly do wish to become a hero after this, it will be easier if you only end up with less severe charges.” 

“I’ll still have to do something.” The cape gestured to her mask, and he looked away, waiting for her to put her mask back on before turning back. She handed him the filter, and he slid it back into its compartment. “If they fail a bunch of jobs in a row, I won’t be able to get you what I know.” 

He had to give her that one. “Noted. Then only give what you feel completely confident in. If, at any point, you think that they’d got you caught or you need assistance, get out of there. I mean it. I may not be able to help you yet, but I may be able to verify your story if you find the Protectorate.” 

The cape froze for a second, making what sounded like empty stammering noises before nodding. “Understood. How do you want me to get you the information?” 

“In person is too risky. Otherwise, however you feel.” 

She nodded again. “I will. Should I go now?” 

“If you want to. I can’t tell anyone about this, though.” 

"I thought so.” The cape deflated a little as she walked off, and Colin turned to go back to the PHQ. This was going to be a task and a half to wrangle, a scared girl with a potent power that needed somebody to stop her from putting herself and others at risk.

But as loathe as he was to admit it, Glory Girl had somehow been right.

He was supposed to help. 

He saw the message bypass the filters on his PHO account later that night, his usual protocol for mistaken account messages. 

> Hey Arnie! 

> Sorry to bother you so soon after, but you left some of your LARPing gear here. Don’t worry, nobody stole it, but I put it in one of the lockboxes just because I was in the area. You can come pick it up tomorrow if you want, it’s in the middle row. 

At least she trusted him.

Maybe he could salvage that part.

Chapter Text

The honking of several dozen cars gridlocked in downtown Brockton Bay wasn’t actually capable of overwhelming Cherie’s sense of what the city sounded like, but it was certainly making a dent in her worldview. 

She weaved past an awkwardly stopped car and ignored the shout from behind her, focused on something very different. She’d noticed a cluster of nervousness, confidence, a spike of immense anxiety being offset by something, and another spike of being extraordinarily dead inside. The group was one too large for the supposed group that Regent was a part of, but a hunch was better than nothing, so off she went. 

The surprise when she’d checked the map and discovered that the group was at the bank was pleasant. 

A lady to her left got out of her car and started yelling, and Cherie pushed her back down with a quick hit of calm without looking. She wanted to see this before it all ended and somebody ran away, just to check if Regent was Jean-Paul, and it felt like the heroes were already on their way judging from the spikes of volatile anxiety and anger rushing toward the bank. Speed was important. 

Her MP3 was even tucked away in her backpack just so she wouldn’t drop it. 

There was already a police barricade getting set up, which was faster than what happened in Montreal whenever something went wrong, and she dodged past it without sending anything at anybody. One of the capes in the bank, the one with the anxiety, was tossing her feelings around like Cherie was doing it, and a quick poke confirmed that she had the usual master-on-master resistance. 

That same poke got zero reaction out of the other emotional void, which just made her try and vault the next parked car. 

She stumbled, ignoring the yell from inside, and immediately pulled herself back as a big blue motorcycle blew past her, swerving around the corner to the bank. Alarm shot through the bank capes, with a tiny bit of relief in the weird one, and Cherie went back to sprinting as fast as she could. The Protectorate catching Jean-Paul was not something she wanted to try and fix. 

But it was something she’d like to watch, thinking about it. Watching him get foamed would be more entertaining than causing another breakup. 

The heroes outside the bank calmed down a little, shifting to determination and calm resolve, plus a strange hint of skepticism that didn’t seem to entirely track, and the ones inside began making their way out. Cherie rounded the last corner and slipped past a PRT trooper not paying attention in time to see what looked like the entirety of Brockton Bay’s Wards, plus a man in gladiator armor she didn’t recognize and Armsmaster, who she did. There was a spotlight on the roof she knew was Victoria, and a tired mix of various negative feelings that was definitely Amy, still holding it together somehow. The capes inside milled around for a few moments longer before panic started to seep into all but one of them, and out of nowhere a massive cloud of bugs swarmed down on the heroes out front, blinding them all through sheer mass and annoyance. Cherie was out of the danger zone, but based on how only one of the Wards was actually trying to move around instead of batting away the flies and bugs, none of the others were. The hero in the gladiator armor let out a scream that killed the bugs in a decent area around him, but it didn’t make enough of a dent for any of them to follow the capes. Armsmaster did the emotional equivalent of gritting his teeth and charged forward toward the back of the bank, the one in the white bodysuit following him, and Cherie followed as stealthily as she could. 

The bugs pulled back, giving her a clear line of sight, but it only lasted for a few moments before billowing clouds of dark smoke filled up the street along the bank. Something massive barked inside, and Cherie stumbled back out as a giant mutant dog-thing charged out of the smoke, a girl in a purple bodysuit riding it. Another dog carrying a burly teenager and somebody dressed like a ren-faire cosplayer leapt out behind it, and Armsmaster raised his halberd, aiming it like a gun. 

The cosplayer pointed. 

Armsmaster’s arm spasmed. 

Cherie had to suck in a breath to keep from cheering. 

One more dog leapt out, trailing more smoke, but Cherie didn’t bother seeing who was on that one. She’d finally found him, she could follow him all she wanted now. He was already long on the way away from the bank, and she snuck back out of the danger zone, keeping a bead on Jean-Paul. Once he’d settled down into somewhere, she could pay him a visit, have the family reunion she’d been waiting weeks at this point for. 

She’d so missed him. If just to mess with him.

Chapter Text

Is very unhappy with what just happened.

Lisa hadn’t needed her power to tell her that from looking at Brian. 

The leader of the Undersiders was pacing around the loft like he was actively trying to scorch the floors, his costume’s jacket hanging off him unzipped. He’d been the first to make the call to run when Lisa had reported just how many heroes had rolled up to the bank, but he was still very clearly kicking himself over the fact it happened. 

Not the fault of any Undersiders. Result of bad information.

She gave her power a mental smack to make it shut up. Culpability was a problem she could solve later, once she’d made sure everybody was where they were supposed to be. Rachel had stopped at the shelter first, to drop the dogs, and Taylor had changed out of her costume and left for her home right after. That just left her, Brian, and Alec in the loft, convalescing. 

Her mind drifted back to the information she’d gotten off of Taylor when Armsmaster had arrived. 

Didn’t expect Armsmaster or Triumph to show up. Scared.

So much for that hunch. 

Brian sighed. “What the hell did we miss?”

“I’ve got a few possibilities.” 

He looked up at her. “Which are?” 

She held up three fingers. “One, our patrol schedule was bad. Armsy and Triumph happened to be in the same area. The Wards got scrambled because it’s a damn bank robbery.” 

Brian shrugged. “It’s possible, but I don’t know about that. That’s the kind of the thing that the boss wouldn’t slip on.” 

“There’s first times for everything. Second possibility is that it was a sting operation somehow, feeding somebody info to bait us into going to the bank. Based on how the response was slow enough for us to at least try to start opening the vault before they arrived, probably not. Third option…”

Lisa grimaced. “We accidentally took Panacea hostage.” 

His face dropped. “What.”

Alec cackled from the couch. 

Blames you for this. Thinks it’s hilarious.

She ignored him. “Panacea was in the bank, but I only noticed her right as we were about to leave. The person on the roof was probably Glory Girl, and since we accidentally took the most powerful healer on the coast and possibly the country hostage, they weren’t pulling any punches.” 

Brain pulled off his jacket and threw it onto the counter. “Great. So we had to ditch the job because of an accident.” 

“If it had just been the Wards, we could have taken them. Bug can do some nasty shit, plus Rachel’s dogs, but with Armsmaster and Triumph there we couldn’t do anything to make a dent. Better to live and fight another day.”

That, and it also fucked with Coil, which she would do whenever she got the chance. 

Alec made a noise like the verbal version of a pout. “Are you sure? I really really wanted that hoverboard.” 

“You can live without it.” The chair creaked as Brian sat down in it, pulling off his jacket and hanging it on the seat back. “Any ideas on how long they’ll be looking for us?” 

“Considering we had to ditch most of the cash, not long. Rachel had a bag, but that was about it, and none of the Wards got seriously injured.” None hurt at all. Taylor was holding back. “None got hurt at all, actually. Our walking health and safety violation kept that from happening.” 

“Good call. The last thing we need right now is an allergic reaction on our hands.” Brian sighed. “I want to call a team meeting tomorrow. Get everybody here, plan out another job once the heat dies down. Do you think we could convince the boss to take proposals?”

Lisa clamped down her power before thinking about that question. “Maybe. He’d probably take a day or two to think, but it’s possible.” 

He nodded. “Good. We–” 

The sound of somebody knocking on the door cut him off, and he went over and opened it to find Rachel standing there, no dogs around and holding the only bag of money they’d gotten away with.

“What happened?” 

“Didn’t want to risk the dogs. You can keep the money.” She shoved the bag into Brian’s chest, gave Alec a look of disgust and annoyance, and began walking over to the fridge. “You said there’d only be a few.” 

“Well, somebody got bad information. And if I did, then the boss did, so blame him.” Lisa huffed. “We can try again sometime. Won’t stop us for long.” 

Rachel didn’t respond, just taking a beer out of the fridge, and Lisa took that as a win. The bank job was supposed to have been a simple one, in and out without any severe injuries or issues, and then the entirety of the Wards, the former Ward, and fucking Armsmaster himself had all shown up to ruin their day. Whether or not Coil would accept a replacement job was up for debate, since he’d clearly meant this as more than a simply bank hit, but whatever he really wanted wasn’t something she could tell yet. 

He could be fooled, though. Bad information apparently fucked with him. He’d had information, patrol schedules and hunches, but apparently it wasn’t good enough. 

He was very fallible. And she could use that. That’s what half her power was, anyway. 

Somebody else knocked at the door, and the three of them tensed up. Too forceful to be Taylor. Coil would never come to you. Unknown party.

Brian looked over at her, and she nodded, looking around for her costume before remembering the gun was unloaded. Rachel was tensed up, readying her posture to smash the bottle, and Alec was still completely unworried, currently top scoring in his match. 

The door opened a crack, and Brian peered through it. “Can I help you?” 

He didn’t get an answer as the door swung all the way open, and Lisa scrambled back against the wall in sheer terror. The girl standing in the doorway had a purple and light blue jacket and a red streak in her hair, and was scaring her more than anything else had before, more than Coil’s gunpoint recruitment, more than what any of the schemes her parents could have done. Rachel was doing the same, the bottle shattered on the floor as she mumbled to herself, the names of her dogs under her breath, and Brian was gushing smoke from everywhere on his arms as he stumbled away from her. The girl was smiling, even more terrifying than if she’d been anything else, and she stepped inside and took a look around, an expression of approval on her face right up until she saw the TV on and Alec’s complete non-reaction. Lisa barely had the brainspace to wonder why he wasn’t reacting until the girl spoke, smile dropping. 

“React, you fucking putain .” 

Alec just raised a hand and flipped her off without seeing. Her arm jerked a little, a much more muted reaction than what he usually got, and she didn’t even acknowledge it. “Great to see you too, Cherie.” 

“Jean-Paul, you moron, you were supposed to go crying in terror.” “I missed you too.” 

Lisa’s fear abruptly stopped, the same happening for everybody else too judging by the gasps, and her power immediately kicked back in. 

Is Canadian. Young as she looks. Fear was power-induced, emotional Master effect. From Quebec area. Knows Alec well enough to call him by his actual name. Was legitimately sad he didn’t react with sheer terror. He knows her well. Siblings. One sibling has emotional control and the other can manipulate nervous systems, both potent Masters from Quebec area. Cherie is Cherie Vasil, Heartbreaker’s daughter. Alec is Jean-Paul Vasil, his son. Only news of Alec going missing has spread due to his career as Hijack, utilized by his father as a remote vector of control.

Lisa didn’t pass out. She was getting better at stopping her powers from doing that. 

Rachel almost did, though.

Chapter Text

A pull of abject terror. 

“No.” 

A surge of roiling anger. 

“No.” 

Bursts of envy and hate blending together, inciting a jealous rage. 

“I am literally winning this lobby.” 

Cherie pouted and flopped onto the couch. “Nothing? Really?” 

“I’m not even annoyed at you.” 

She groaned. 

This was exactly what she hadn’t wanted. 

“You were supposed to be, like, more receptive after spending months away, or at least be a little scared. Now you’re just…” She waved a hand at him. “Still you.” 

“Why change perfection?” 

The other three people in the loft stifled their reactions. 

Somebody cleared her throat from behind her, probably the guy that had opened the door. “So, you’re Alec’s sister?” 

“Yep. I’m Cherie, and he’s Jean-Paul, not Alec.” She waved over the back of the couch, not actually looking behind her. “Has he really just been spending all his time playing games?” 

“Yes?” The voice behind her was as confused as he sounded. “Did he have another hobby before?” 

“Does taking control of people count? Jeanny, do you have any puppets yet?” 

“Jeanny? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?” Jean-Paul rolled his eyes. “That’s awful. Worse than Kid Win.” 

“You have a Ward named Kid Win?” 

The other girl, the one with normal emotions, didn’t even bother to hide her scoff this time. “We’re just going to ignore the fact that this is clearly Heartbreaker’s kid? I don’t even think I would’ve needed my power to figure that out.” 

The weird one in the corner just grunted. “I don’t like her.” 

Jean-Paul snorted. “Yeah, thank god you don’t have your dogs. She doesn’t do animals, and we already had one person bleed all over our couch.” 

“She fucking mastered us, Alec.” The guy shifted, anger surging back up past the confusion. “She deserves getting the dogs more than Taylor did, and the only reason I’m not already on her–” “Ooh, I see. Not while Jean-Paul’s here, though, he’d enjoy watching me suffer.” 

He sighed. “Definitely his sister. Look, why the hell are you here?” 

“Obviously, I was looking for my dear brother.” Cherie gestured a hand toward Jean-Paul, and it twitched and smacked the couch cushion before she did it again. “Our dad’s been doing stuff that I just don’t think is fun anymore, and I was going to try and see if I could crash another party, but then I saw a post on PHO about Regent and he sounded familiar enough that I thought it could be worth paying Brockton Bay a visit.” 

The normal girl suddenly started radiating concern. “You haven’t fought any gang leaders recently have you?” 

She blinked, and actually pulled herself up and looked at the blonde. “Is that a common problem?” 

The blonde sighed. “If you ask our newest member…” 

“So you’re just here to find Alec?” The guy’s voice spoke up again, and she turned to actually look at him. “Then why did you need to terrify us?” 

She shrugged. “It was entertaining.” 

“Definitely Heartbreaker’s daughter.” 

“Dad didn’t actually go for shits and giggles all that often, he had goals. Most of them were kind of dumb, but they were goals.” 

Jean-Paul exhaled as something happened in his game, a tiny speck of irritation bleeding through before fading. “You ran after that thing with the movie star, didn’t you.” 

“Is it so hard to assume I just wanted to see my dear brother?” “You had a dozen other siblings to give depression to.” 

The blonde sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “Right, looking past that, question for you, Cherie. Is your dad looking for you?” 

“Nah.” “Probably.” Cherie and Jean-Paul turned and stared at each other for a few seconds, before Jean-Paul went back to his game and Cherie looked back to the blonde. “I was going to go to some big gang initially so I wouldn’t have to hide, but now I’m here, so I’ve been trying to stay out of the way.” 

She paused for a second. “Also, I accidentally made friends with Glory Girl and Panacea.” 

The guy by the door facepalmed. 

Jean-Paul actually started laughing a little. “You accidentally made friends with Collateral Girl? The blonde one with the crown? Nice. Is she, ah, friendly?” 

“Not sure. You won’t get a win on her, though. Fancy aura and all.” 

The weird one in the corner growled, hits of anger creeping out, and Cherie turned to look at her. 

“I don’t like you.” 

Cherie shrugged. “That’s okay. I can fix that.” 

“Master any of us and I drop you at the PRT.” The guy moved toward her a step, black smoke seeping from his arms. “I don’t care what you try and pull.” 

“You wouldn’t.” Jean-Paul spoke up again, his game coming to a close. “She’d just make you adore her before you twitched. Besides, there’s something else I’m pretty sure only Tats noticed.” 

“Which is?” 

He pointed at Cherie. “She’s hiding from dad just like I am. And unless you want him to run on down here to get her back, because I’m pretty sure he always liked her more than me–” 

The blonde groaned. “I’m Lisa, he’s Brian, she’s Rachel. There’s another room you can use, since you’ve been crashing in an abandoned apartment building for the last two weeks.” 

“Oh, shit, thinker.” Cherie smiled. “Nice. So, have I missed anything fun?” 

Rachel cracked whatever she was holding. 

Jean-Paul had entertaining friends.

Chapter Text

“You need to step up, Alec. She’s your sister, Alec. You’re resistant to her powers you need to watch over her, Alec. Who else on this team sacrifices as much as me?” 

“Please just shut up.” 

Alec collapsed onto his bed. “What, no smugness today?” 

“Alec, I just discovered you’re Heartbreaker’s son and your sister, who may be arguably more powerful than him–” “She isn’t.” “--Is in the same city as you and apparently one of your dad’s favorites. I don’t like it either, but the LAST thing we need is the boss finding out about this. He will do some bad shit.” 

He gave Lisa a deadpan look. That happened a lot. “But why is she staying here?” 

“Because literally who else do we trust in this city to cover her?” She winced. “The answer’s nobody. God only knows what the Protectorate would do with her, the ABB would do shit I don’t want to ask my power about, the Empire would conquer half the city, and our boss would cover all of it. We are literally the only place that can hide her without doing something with her.” 

“So we’re not bringing her on jobs?” “Not as long as we can help it.” 

“Thank god.” He exhaled and sunk further into his bed. “She’d walk out of casino hit two with her own harem. I wonder if she could give Oni Lee some feelings.” 

“Please stop making my power turn on.” “No.” 

Lisa rubbed her head and leaned against the wall. “Alec, I’m intentionally not trying to guess what you two got up to back home with my power because I don’t want to know and because I want to respect your privacy. I don’t know how well you two get along, apart from probably having used your powers on each other, and I don’t want to be in the city when Heartbreaker comes looking for his kids.” 

“I’ll be long gone before then.” He half-turned over, leaving his face partially buried in the comforter. “You know, I could tell you a rundown.” 

Lisa shuddered. “God, stop. All we need is just for you to make sure she doesn’t try to do…any of that.” She waved in a direction that Alec knew just led to an outside wall, but he got the message. 

“If she wants to go shopping, I’m conscripting Brian to carry her bags.” 

“Don’t.” She snapped the response at him. “Just…don’t. It’s a miracle Rachel didn’t attack her the second her powers wore off, and I don’t know if Brian would hold back if you even came close to near where his sister lived.” 

Alec’s scoff was muffled by the fact he made the noise into the bed. “She’s got more range than the dork, he can’t do shit.” 

“Well that’s good to know,” Lisa mumbled to herself. “Citywide emotional control. That’s great. This is fine.” 

She stayed silent for a few more seconds, and Alec started making fake snoring noises before she sighed and kept speaking. “Alright, alright. Look, I don’t like having her around any more than you do, but if word gets out that Heartbreaker’s daughter’s in Brockton Bay, they might look around and see you and–you get what I mean.” 

He stopped the fake snoring. She was right. Cherie was an absolute ass, but leaving her on her own would end up with more harem-building attempts or a random stretch of riots and/or suicides that somebody would definitely notice. And having him come down for a visit, no, that’s no. He left for a reason. 

“Fine.” He sighed dramatically. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go around getting people to give her free food.” 

Lisa raised an eyebrow at him. Dammit, she’d seen the joke coming. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t steal stuff. Unless we both do and she doesn’t show her powers.” 

“That’s the best I’ll get from you, isn’t it?” “Yep.” 

A noise of exasperation signaled Alec’s victory. 

“Watch her. She’s probably not going to use her powers too much in public, but you just need to make sure she doesn’t out to the Wards or something.”

“Deal.” He pulled himself back upright, sitting on the edge of the bed, and waited for Lisa to turn and leave before speaking up again. “I call dibs on telling the dork about the family.” 

Lisa whirled around with terror in her eyes and nerves. “I swear to god, do not tell Taylor about this.”

“I’m so telling her about this.” 

Cherie chose that moment to stick her head in the door. “Speaking of which, where is your bug cape? I wanted to know what was going on with her emotions. Apart from being a bit of a walking mess.” 

Huh. 

Where was the dork?

Chapter Text

Taylor, for the first time in a while, was feeling good. 

It wasn’t like the semi-accident of her first night. She’d stopped a bank robbery from ever going down, none of the heroes had gotten hurt, and she was a step closer to figuring out who the Undersiders’ boss was. 

She’d actually managed to stop a bank robbery before it even happened, with nobody getting hurt, and they didn’t suspect her. 

She really was in a good mood. 

Unfortunately, she was also extraordinarily antsy. 

And hadn’t yet made any sort of real appearance apart from twenty seconds of bugs surprising the Wards. 

Her bugs weren’t strong enough to carry her across the gaps between buildings, so she was just using her costume to try and be as stealthy as possible, slinking between shadows while keeping the bugs quiet. She hadn’t actually changed out of her costume yet, just pulling the mask off and waiting around in the basement before leaving a note for Danny, putting it back on, and going out. There was no real goal in her mind, just a need to get out and do something. 

Giddiness was far from the right word to describe how she was feeling, but she chalked that up to not having been in this good of a mood in probably months. Armsmaster himself was covering for her, willing to support her if she needed help, and her plan had worked, but she was still feeling amped up for some reason. And while she knew that doing heroic things wouldn’t help her cover, she really did need a walk. 

Maybe her timing wasn’t the best, but she needed to get out.

She strode through the dark streets, intentionally choosing the spots where the streetlights weren’t being maintained, and tried to peer through her bugs while keeping them far enough apart that it wouldn’t be suspicious. Even though she was near the docks, there was shockingly little activity going on, none of the muggers or generally active gang members she’d expected. The ABB hadn’t really slowed down since Lung’s capture, but that only meant that the sudden quiet that night was almost concerning. 

One of her bugs flew through a cloud of something, and she tensed, sending a few more bugs to check it out before realizing it was just somebody that had fallen onto a pile of trash and kicked up some dust. The fear of Oni Lee hadn’t abated, even though the enforcer seemed to have refrained from engagements against the Empire. Rumors were spreading about the ABB having picked up a bomb tinker, and the silence was both relieving and concerning. 

Taylor stopped and leaned against a wall, not quite satisfied that she couldn’t find anything, but at least somewhat relieved. The alley next to her led to a dead end, and it was dark enough for her to be nearly invisible inside it, so she set her bugs in place for the moment, let out a breath, and tried to listen through. 

The visual feeds from her bugs was generally comprehensible, even when it devolved into lights and vague shapes, but the sounds she could get were TV static crossed with a malfunctioning digestive system. There were occasional flickers of something legible, though, and she tried to focus on them as she relaxed against the brick wall. 

Not much changed, and she winced as the noise cut into her like a physical blow, trying to parse the inbound sensations. Faint notions of something comprehensible poked through, fragments of conversations, the sounds of somebody repairing something, a rumble that she couldn’t place but did feel vaguely familiar, and–

A dozen of her bugs died at once. Another two dozen flew through clouds of ash about a block apart. 

Somebody screeched, almost literally, loud enough for her bugs to hear it all. 

“Where the shit is she?!” 

Taylor decided to start running. 

She barely got a block before a man in an unfamiliar but still recognizable demon mask appeared on the building above her and whistled. 

Her baton was in one hand a split second later, pepper spray in the other, and she tried to not panic as a jeep skidded around the corner and to a stop in front of her. A woman in a gas mask grabbed hold of the windshield and stood up, looking at Taylor. 

“You know, we were gonna go for Bitch, since she does her own shit, but there are those rumors about how the dragon bit it, and you seem new anyway.” She reached down and picked up something that Taylor recognized as one of those single-shot grenade launchers. “So hold still, and I’ll–” Something like a cross between a giggle and a cackle escaped her mask. “We won’t hurt you any more than the Undersiders deserve.” 

Taylor swallowed. 

Oni Lee stared for a few seconds longer before she felt something disturb the bugs behind her and the version of him on top of the building disintegrated, the bugs settling on something sharp a few inches from her back. She snuck a few cockroaches onto the jeep as the gasmask lady kept laughing, sending them into a pile of what were probably tinkertech bombs and started chewing through a wire on one of them, mentally crossing her fingers that it wasn’t going to get her killed too. 

The tip of Oni Lee’s knife touched her back. 

She didn’t like this at all.

Chapter Text

“Now, we aren’t gonna do this shit here, I have big things to do, so you can either get in the car or let Lee knock you out.” 

Taylor didn’t move, back straightening to look the gasmask-wearing tinker in the eye, blank lens to blank lens. The bugs in her range were starting to condense just outside the distance that the ABB capes would be able to tell they were gathering, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get them all in place to help her in time. 

The knife poked into her back a little harder, and the gasmask lady’s voice dropped. “Get in the car, bug bitch.” 

She stayed standing still, too scared to say something, unwilling to risk how shaky her voice would sound if she actually tried to talk back. 

“Get in the FUCKing car, so help me god!” Gasmask reached behind herself and pulled out a vaguely-grenade shaped object, covered in wires and boards. “Or I will hit you so hard your brain won’t know how to process pain, while you’re still awake, and then Lee’ll knock you out so hard–wha?” 

Both of them looked at the grenade at the same time, eyes going wide at the sudden sparks erupting from it. 

A single cockroach crawled out from within. 

Taylor didn’t hear the detonation. 

Gasmask threw the bomb away as far as she could, and Taylor called all her bugs in, sending them in a swarm at the same time as she swung around with her baton. It caught Oni Lee in the jaw, knocking off his momentum for a second before he disintegrated into ash, and she sent the swarm out to be a little less dense to try and track the disturbances in it. Gasmask let out an inarticulate yell of anger and loaded another grenade, and Taylor took off running past the jeep as she tried to aim through the cloud. A few person-shaped holes in the swarm popped up, turning to powder moments later, and she barely had enough time to throw herself against a wall before Oni Lee appeared in front of her. She raised the pepper spray and aimed it, the chemical splashing against his mask, and he stumbled back before appearing on her other side, knife already swinging. Taylor ducked, and both Oni Lees crumbled to ash, a silhouette appearing in the alley on the other side of the street. The sound of tires squealing spooked her into standing back up and moving again, ducking inside the front alcove of a building just in time for the jeep to go flying past her. 

“Fuck, go back!” 

She ignored Gasmask’s yell and ran out into the middle of the street, on the opposite side of the car from the tinker, shaking the pepper spray container to check how empty it was. A rattling noise answered her, and she stopped and aimed as the jeep reversed and Gasmask stood back up. 

Taylor threw the can. 

It hit Gasmask right in the lens. 

It didn’t do anything apart from knocking her aim off a bit, but that was enough, grenade launcher firing wildly off target and striking a storefront with a burst of electricity. Taylor winced under the mask, considering the collateral damage, and immediately scrambled to the side as Oni Lee appeared right next to her and yanked a grenade off his bandolier. The flashbang didn’t have much of an effect on her bugs, but it left a ringing in her ears, one that was immediately exploited as a grenade hit the building next to her and a wave of energy exploded out from it. The bugs caught in it seized up, unresponsive, and she ducked behind a newspaper box as the ringing faded. 

Oni Lee appeared in front of her, handgun readied, and her eyes went wide for a second before he pulled the trigger and nothing happened. He turned the gun sideways, looking at it, and his confusion at the sight of a handful of spiders crawling out from inside the barrel was enough time for Taylor to smack it out of his hand with the baton. The enforcer turned to ash a second later, but the gun didn’t, and Taylor willed the spiders to get back under her costume in case he got close again. Her hearing finally cleared up, at least partially, and the first clear noise she heard was the jeep behind her. Gasmask yelled something she couldn’t fully make out, and she flicked her hand out, casting off the spiders she’d just recovered in the general direction of the noise. She missed the tinker, but a few of the spiders landed right on the driver’s face, and he let out a yell of terror and reached up to smack it off his face, without letting off the accelerator. 

Taylor decided to hit the deck before the car crashed. 

The sound of the front of a restaurant crumpling was the first thing she actually heard without any ringing. 

Oni Lee muttering a curse under his breath in a language she didn’t recognize was the second. 

She scrambled to stand, but a boot to the back forced her right back down, and he pried the baton out of her hand before she could get her breath back. The knife pressed against the back of her neck as his free hand pulled her upright, still silent as Gasmask pulled herself out of the wreck, one of her arms noticeably shaking. 

“Alright, you fucking imbecile, you think you’re so damn good, do you?” She pointed the grenade launcher at Taylor, the blinking light of a loaded round clear down the barrel. “Well, guess what, you wasted the bomb I was going to use on you. Which is a damn shame for you, because now, I have to go for the options that are gonna hurt a lot more, take a lot longer, and if Lee’s feeling creative, he might just–” 

A rumbling started in the distance, then got a lot louder, and then a familiar blue and silver bike rounded the corner. 

“Oh, fuck us.” 

Taylor didn’t wait for Armsmaster to even stop his bike, sending her bugs toward Oni Lee with a goal in mind. A few flew into his mask, poking him in the eye, but he didn’t let go of her as his head snapped around and the knife began to shift to underneath her chin. 

So she sent the rest for his hand. 

The cloud descended on it in a second, chittering and biting, and she suppressed a retch as the feedback from her bugs eating all at once kicked in. The knife jerked forward, but skidded off her costume, and the hand holding her in place let go as he stumbled back. The hand the bugs were on disintegrated a second later, and she redirected the bugs toward Gasmask, disrupting the tinker’s aim at Armsmaster’s incoming form. She shrieked as they all got close and reached for something on her belt, hurling the grenade at the ground. It exploded in a rush of fire that Gasmask backstepped to dodge, the bugs dying, and she raised the launcher again at Taylor. She took off running, sending the last few bugs to irritate her aim enough for it to matter, and the loaded grenade went wide into a wall as she slowed to a stop next to Armsmaster. 

“Do you intentionally have a vendetta against the ABB?”

She was too full of adrenaline to shrug. “It was an accident, I–” 

Oni Lee appeared behind him. 

The bugs she had left were on him again in a second, going for the other hand, but even with one limb barely functional he still managed to pull the pin on one of the fancier looking grenades on the bandolier. 

Taylor jumped for the tackle and braced for something. 

And then didn’t.

Chapter Text

Floating in the dark wasn’t the way to describe it. 

It was dark, but Taylor wasn’t there. She was just in it, devoid of anything. She couldn’t even call it dark in the traditional sense of absence of light, because it was more like a total absence of anything. No movement, no bugs, nothing to parse, barely even the faint background noise that always comes in when it’s totally silent. Merely the concept and faint knowledge that she was alive, as evidenced by her ability to note the lack of anything around her, but nothing to truly back it up. 

No sense of time helped her determine how long it was before the first flickers of awareness started to return, faint pinpricks of light that she recognized as the senses of her bugs. It wasn’t clear at first, glimpses of fires and blue armor, and a vague shape that might have been her own body next to a gray outfit with specks of red. Sparks emerged from near the figure in blue, and she sent the bugs to try and get closer, feeling no small amount of relief as the feelings of touch came back in. Cold metal was felt, and somebody shaking on the ground, then a blur of blue went through the bug-vision and the shaking stopped as the metal stood still for a second and then turned. 

Hearing turned back on, and if Taylor could have winced, she would have, with crackled and static and whirring and chittering all coming in as the blue metal moved toward what seemed like her, moving to take something out that she couldn’t tell what it was. 

“..oka..”

She focused, trying to find out what that one noise that was almost speech was, and things started to clarify. The crackling sounded more like fire, the whirring like mechanical servos, and that was definitely somebody speaking. 

“...from the bugs, you’re aware, but your body’s not reacting to any stimulus. I’m going to inject a stimulant to try and wake you back up, can you understand me?” 

Nodding wasn’t an option, so she ordered the bugs best she could into what she hoped was an approximation of an arrow aimed at her body and let the bugs stay there. Blue metal made a short motion, walked over to her, and knelt over her. 

She didn’t feel the prick, but she did feel the soreness as her body actually, and finally woke back up. 

The realization that yes, that was Armsmaster, definitely jolted her back into awareness. 

Taylor pulled herself upright, blinking a little under her mask at the spots in her vision, and looked up at him. “Are they–” 

“Bakuda is unconscious from myself, and Oni Lee is unresponsive, thanks to you.” He gestured at the shape on the ground next to her, a very still but breathing enforcer. “I believe you prevented him from teleporting off before the grenade detonated. What was that grenade, if I may ask?” 

She slowly stood, rubbing her hand along her head. “Sensory deprivation, I think. It went off and I couldn’t feel anything at all.” 

“Understood. We’ll make sure to try and bring him up soon, then. We’re not torturers.” He paused. “Although your method did seem to leave a little bit to be desired in terms of gentleness.” 

Her eyes went wide under the mask, and she tried to keep her voice level. “I didn’t destroy his hand, did I? I couldn’t tell what the bugs were doing.” 

“No, but there is a lot missing from his left hand. I won’t judge you, I work with Miss Militia and I understand how easy it is for many powers to hurt, as well as how it can scale from ineffectual to lethal. Please try to refrain from eating people in the future, though.” Armsmaster paused. “I think that’s the first time I’ve had to say that.” He went silent for a few seconds, and then a bolt of panic ran through Taylor. 

“Wait, the Undersiders. If any of these details get out, Tattletale’s going to figure it out, maybe the others too. Do you need to put it down in a report?” 

Armsmaster sighed. “Yes, I do. But I’ll refrain from mentioning you publicly, or I’ll mention a new independent hero. We can get that fixed. You did take an injury, and one from a tinkertech explosive at that, so I will need to get that down.” 

Taylor nodded, and he turned to Oni Lee, but stopped halfway through the motion. “Speaking of the explosive, ah…”

“Are you okay?” 

She stopped. “What?” 

“Obviously, if you’re injured and I missed it, we can call in Panacea or you can go in as a civilian, considering you are...technically…a mole, but that’s not what I mean.” He paused, lips pursed, and she almost thought Armsmaster was lost for words in front of her. “You fought Lung on your first night out without preparation and with a costume you haven’t quite tested, are trying to run a sting operation on somebody we have labeled as a thinker question mark, and took an explosive for me that you had no idea the capabilities of. While I am grateful for that, I am being serious when I ask, is everything alright?” 

Words left her for a few seconds and she slowly shook her head. “It’s fine. Nothing…nothing a hero needs to worry about.” 

He made an expression she couldn’t quite place. “I disagree.” 

She got the feeling he was looking straight at her for a few seconds, and then he started moving again, kneeling over Oni Lee as he pulled some cuffs out of nowhere. “There’s a reason even heroes have to retreat sometimes. No capture of a street villain, even if they are heinous, is worth your life.” He looked back up at her. “I mean that. You’re an independent at best, a part-time villain trying to be more at worst, no disrespect. You are worth more than that.” 

Taylor just nodded and walked off, pulling along what bugs she could and scooping up her baton. The sound of Armsmaster calling in a pickup unit was clear this time, nearly everything around her was, but she pushed all the sensations away as she headed home. 

She’d known what Armsmaster had meant. That didn’t mean she trusted it, or him, but she knew what he meant. 

But he had listened to her about the Undersiders, and noticed more than every teacher at Winslow combined, somehow. 

It was good to have a hero.

Chapter Text

Alec, for a second, wondered why he was on the couch instead of his semi-luxurious inexpensive-but-still-decent-quality mattress. 

Then he remembered that he’d let Cherie have it to avoid hearing her complain. 

Logic, you bastard. 

He threw off the blanket that he’d been under and swung himself off the couch, blinking a little at the head rush from standing up too fast, and stared at the table. There might have been the noise of Brian making breakfast out of his line of sight, but he really didn’t care enough to go poking that. 

He didn’t have to, though, as Brian appeared from probably the kitchen area holding a plate of waffles. 

“I thought waffles were Lisa’s pick.” 

Brian shrugged. “She can get them if she wants. No idea what she’s doing, though. She checked PHO last night, after you fell asleep, and ran back to her room. The only thing I’ve heard from her was a text asking for this morning’s newspaper.” 

“Did you read it?” 

“She asked for it at 5 AM, and I got to sleep at 2. No.” The plate hit the table, and Alec’s mind jumped to an image of that one Aleph sidekick in Lisa’s place before he started walking over. “Where’s the syrup?” 

Brian just turned around, walked over to the fridge, and pulled out the bottle, since Alec wasn’t going to go and get it himself. He tossed the bottle to him, and Alec caught it, popped the cap, and was drowning his waffles in syrup a second later. A fork and knife landed next to his plate, and he got to work as Brian dug the butter out of the fridge. 

“Rachel went home while you and Lisa were arguing, and Taylor didn’t drop by, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to call a team meeting soon to break down yesterday and what we can do next, so she’ll be showing up soon. Can you try and prevent your sister from fucking with us until that’s done?” 

Alec made a halfhearted shrug. “Maybe. She just kinda does things. I can try to make her gag if she does something, but no promises.” 

“You can do that?” 

He was about to reply with a long list of all the things he’d made Cherie choke out, including a few things she hadn’t for fun, when Lisa slammed her door open with her laptop in one hand, a scribbled-up newspaper in the other, and an expression like she’d gotten blackmail on Scion. 

“They caught the ABB off a car crash last night.” 

Alec barely had time to blink before she threw the newspaper down on the table and sat down, setting her laptop next to it. “Bakuda crashed her car on Marten Street last night, with Oni Lee in it, and apparently fucking Armsmaster caught them. Just–I did some poking, and apparently she had this whole plan to bust out Lung, and then a fucking car crash–” She pitched forward, head about to slam into the table, and Alec flicked his hand, jerking her backwards before she could make contact. 

“Ow, but thanks.” Lisa rubbed her head, blinking hard, and pointed at the newspaper. “Got a lot of stuff out of that, and the rest from digging through everything I could find on the ABB. Bakuda was a recent recruit, Lung went and picked her up himself, and the ABB don’t have anybody else waiting in the wings. Well, didn’t, really. They’re down to the unpowered members, and none of them have any of the initiative to run a gang. Basically, the ABB’s gone, and they’re in their death throes right now.” She winced, and Brian handed her a glass of water. “The Empire’s probably going to wait a bit to see if they break out before tearing them apart, and the Merchants won’t care, but they’re not giving them all a chance. Bakuda was the Cornell bomber, Oni Lee and Lung are Oni Lee and Lung, and there’s no way in hell they’re staying in Brockton Bay for longer than the next three days at most.”

Another door creaked open, and a morning grunt he hadn’t heard in years brought up some old memories. “Why are we talking about some gang?” 

“Go back to sleep Cherie, this doesn’t concern you.” He sang the words back at her, not even looking. He didn’t need to see her morning face again. 

“You’re being loud–” Alec snapped a finger, and something rattled the door handle behind him. Damn, she was right. Time didn’t decrease resistance. That was meant to smack her into the door. He hadn’t actually done it in years, but it was always worth a try. 

Brian raised an eyebrow as Cherie presumably almost fell over, but the sound of shuffling behind him confirmed that she was in fact still standing. “You guys are being all loud. Lisa was panicking for half the night and giddy for the other, and I need my beauty sleep. I am on the run, after all, and people will get suspicious if I have boys following me without looking all pretty.” 

The eyebrow fell and Brian sighed. “I was hoping it was a dream. Please don’t start a harem, somebody might notice.”

“Nobody will notice, don’t worry. You haven’t.” 

“Cherie, please, I was here first.” Alec raised a hand like he was trying to be formal. “As the first one here, I get dibs on everything. You can have the leftovers.” 

“But everybody will be fine with it..” “The Undersiders have a strict no-mindbending policy. Brian has a sister to look after, and me and Lisa are fine.” 

“What about Rachel?” “Her dogs got there first.” 

Alec did not hold back his cackle at his own joke as Brian retched and Lisa shuddered. The resident team leader recovered first, pointing at Alec. “Do not say that to her face.”

“I do have a survival drive. It’s not very big, but it’s there, and probably my third biggest. Maybe second.” 

Cherie sighed and grabbed half of Alec’s waffle off his plate, a fight he let her take. “It’s his biggest. He deserves no credit for anything else, even if you have firsthand experience. I’ve seen his aftermaths–” “Her sources are all biased.” “--it’s not pretty. But on that note, can I go somewhere today? I have friends I want to meet up with.” 

“Glory Girl and Panacea?” Lisa asked, and Alec assumed Cherie nodded. “Do you even have a way of meeting up with them?” 

“The blonde’s a giant spotlight for me. I can just find her. Although, if you think I need an escort…” She rested her chin on Alec’s head. 

He made her drop her waffle. 

She took away the miniscule excitement he had at the syrup and replaced it with sorrow. 

Eh, could have been worse.

Chapter Text

The day was good, despite Cherie not having been able to get out and about until the afternoon. The sun was shining, the Boardwalk was loud in a good way, the little broken heart patch looked good even though she still hadn’t figured out what to put it on yet, and best of all…

“You can’t convince me to carry your bags.” 

Jean-Paul was absolutely miserable. 

“I can, and will, because nobody else will.” She smiled and him and got back to looking around at the shops lining the Boardwalk, debating her choices. “Victoria won’t be here for a while, she’s pretty far away, so do you think we should get some shopping done now or wait a bit?” 

“You get a place to crash and all of a sudden you’re doing enough shopping to make Glory Girl, wait, you’re calling her by her first name?” He let out a little breath through his nose, the closest thing to a laugh he was willing to give her. “We’ve all seen Brandish, she will literally mince you.” 

“It’s not actually her I’m aiming for. There is a very, very fun relationship between her and her sister, and I just want to make sure they know about it! Healthy communication’s good, you know.” Cherie’s smile went from smug to sickeningly sweet, and Alec’s eyes widened. 

“Bullshit.” 

“Who here can hear emotions? Trust me, brother dear, it’s true.” 

“I’m more disturbed by being called brother dear than your plan.” He faked a shudder, and looked at a food truck that had gotten set up. “You ever have mongolian beef?” 

She gave him a confused look. “I literally grew up with you, did Montreal have any food trucks?” 

“You’re having some today. This one’s not even stuck with the ABB, it’s just a really good food truck.” He walked off, faintly pinging eagerness, and Cherie would have taken that as a ringing endorsement if it hadn’t been from Alec. This could be payback for dragging him along, at least one of her siblings had always carried laxatives for a close reason. 

Then again, she’d co-opted said sibling’s first boyfriend, so there was probably a reason most of those attempts were aimed at Cherie. 

She would have been watching Alec for any cues of trying to fuck with her, but hearing anything on him was hard enough, much less the subtlety that came from being funny, so she just actually watched him get the skewers of beef and walk back toward her, smiling. He was putting the wallet back into his pocket as she noticed something. “That’s not your wallet, is it.” 

“Lisa’s going to be staring at her laptop getting thinker headaches all day, she won’t need it.” He handed her the skewer. “Just eat it, I don’t want more hangry Cherie.” 

“Eurgh.” That memory was unpleasant. She took a bite of the beef and paused, unwilling to acknowledge that Alec was right, it was pretty good. Usually, the hedonism in the family went towards slightly less legal things, but apparently he wasn’t caring about that now. Coward. 

He ate half of his skewer in one bite and didn’t stop talking. “So, are you trying to get a pocket medic stuck to your ass or just be chaotic? Cause we do have a doctor.” 

“He didn’t need a pocket medic or whatever you call it, and I don’t need one.” She jabbed him with the pointy end of the skewer. “You’re just being boring, and I found out about that whole thing before I found you. PHO still hasn’t figured out you’re my brother, by the way.”

Alec let out a single chuckle. “I know. They think it’s some magic flow of calamity type shit, it’s hilarious.” His emotions said he found it very faintly amusing, but that was about what counted as belly-laughing for him at a joke that he didn’t make. 

“Anyway, like I was saying, I found out about that whole thing before your little bank heist.” Cherie took another bite and continued. “Panacea’s a bundle of presents that I want Victoria to unwrap, and you’re not doing anywhere near as much as you could. But a family reunion seemed more fun than the original plan, and would take much less time.” 

He tossed the skewer over his shoulder somewhere. “What was your original plan?” 

“Find a gang, sneak in, take over. Do it Dad style.” He definitely didn’t need to know which gang, though. That was some leverage she couldn’t afford to give him. It wasn’t off the table yet, but she wanted to still mess with him a bit. 

She went to take a final bite and jammed the pointy end of the skewer into her nose. 

Alec just laughed at her, and she threw the stick at him. Her follow-up attempt got halted as she felt a familiar glare kick up near the edge of her range. 

“So, Jean-Paul, how would you like to meet Glory Girl?” 

“I will make you fall in the ocean.”

Chapter Text

“Amy! Great to see you again!” 

Amy looked at her with a little bit of suspicion. “Charlotte, are you about to ask me for something?”

Cherie put on a look of slight offense. “Of course not, it’s great to see you again. I just had fun last time we were here, and I hoped we could come back, hang out more. Maybe get something else this time.” 

Victoria smiled from behind Amy. “See? I told you she just wanted to go to the Boardwalk again.”

“Yeah, I’ll go get something to eat–” “No, I wanted to hang out with you.”

Amy’s skepticism came in full. “Really? Not Victoria? I thought you two would get along great.”

“We do, but I want to get to know you better.” Cherie smiled. “You want to take a look around?” 

Victoria shot her a thumbs up, then glanced behind her. “Who’s that?”

“My brother, Alec.” Her shoulder twitched a little as she said his name. “He was dragged along to pay attention. Don’t worry about him.” 

“Alright.” Victoria smiled. “Well, I can cover whatever you guys want to buy, and Charlotte’s sense of style seems fairly solid, so I’ll leave you to it!” She flew off, and Amy turned to follow her, a pang of sadness striking before looking back to Cherie. 

“What are you about to put me through?”

“You need accessories.” 

Now she was just confused, so Cherie started walking as she explained. “Don’t get me wrong, you have a solid low-key fashion style, but it’s not too you. You need to add your own style, and the best way to do that is accessories.” Cherie gestured to her own hair. “I’d suggest something bigger, but I’d probably get accused of being a bad influence.” 

Amy snickered at that, and Cherie kept her smile in check. Trust was good, and she needed Amy to trust her for this part to work. It would take time to set up those little dominoes, and getting herself in Amy’s good books would be the perfect setup to funnel her right to Cherie once things went south. 

“So what did you have in mind?” Amy asked. 

Cherie stopped and looked around. “Good question. Piercings are a no, probably earrings too, so how about a bracelet or necklace?” 

She already had a solid idea in mind, continuing before Amy could reply. “Wait, do they still use medical bracelets?” 

“I am not getting my name on a medical bracelet, everybody knows me anyway.” 

“No, that’s not the funny part.” Cherie looked around, trying to find what she’d seen last time. “I don’t remember where it is, but I saw somebody that was selling those where you could engrave your own messages onto them around here.” 

Amy sounded annoyed, now. She ran through emotions so fast it was a little dizzying, but that just made her job easier. “I’m fairly sure that’s illegal.” 

“Are you allergic to anything?” Amy shook her head. “You’ll be fine. And I know the perfect thing to put on it.”

“Do not ask me for healing?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” Cherie sidled up to beside Amy, smile wide. “You’ve got a great sense of humor, why don’t you exercise it more?” 

“There’s not much room for wisecracking in the hospital.”

“There totally is.” Cherie stretched her arm out, gesturing at the crowd and the city’s skyscrapers. “There’s so much potential for puns in everything you heal. Or every time you get to say no. Is it like how waiters will take every opportunity they can to tell customers to fuck off?”

“Oh, it is.” Amy smiled. “It’s so satisfying, because it’s never important. They’re always asking to cure a hangover or clear up some blisters, and then I say no, and they stay quiet.” 

Her satisfaction sounded great, even moreso if she associated it with Cherie. “Imagine the looks on their faces when you just pull down your sleeve and show them the bracelet.” 

The fleeting emotions got a little deeper, Amy sounding a little more trusting now, and Cherie pulled on them the tiniest bit. All she needed was one good setup, and they’d get to meet more, digging herself deeper into the plan. 

Now if only she actually remembered where that stall was.

Chapter Text

Victoria Dallon had a slightly skewed sense of weird. 

She was in a family of entirely capes, in Brockton Bay of all places, so of course she’d have a scuffed sense of what was weird. When your aunt who could shoot laser beams had bets running on her next fight against a man that could turn into a giant metal wolf, you just get used to it after a while. 

But she could tell there was something just a little weird about Alec Vails. 

His sister was pretty normal, just another teenager visiting the city, and actually seemed to be getting along with Amy pretty well. Charlotte was nice, really, but Amy needed a friend a lot more than Victoria did, and considering Charlotte was the one that pointed that out, she was a good fit. 

And man, was that fact something that stung a little. 

Seeing Amy seem actually kind of excited, or at least in a better mood than she’d been in so far that day, was worth sitting on the sidelines as Charlotte semi-bullied her through the process of finding any sort of accessory. Clothes were certainly not happening for a while, so any sort of tiny gleam was worth the try to spice up her outfit a little bit. 

She still felt bad about it, though. Amy was supposed to be her sister, and she was supposed to protect her sister. Not sit back and–

“You good in there?” 

Something poked her in her forcefield. 

Right. Alec Vails. 

“I’m fine, yeah.” She blinked a few times, snapping out of her thoughts. “Just a little distracted.” 

“I’d say I believe you, but your funky little aura is making me sad enough to do those little sighs of depression people get when it’s been raining for a week straight. So not a lot, but I can still tell.” 

Charlotte was fairly normal, but Alec seemed vastly different. He wasn’t subdued, and she didn’t want to call somebody she’d just met a sociopath, but he didn’t react to things like a normal person. It wasn’t emotionless, but it definitely wasn’t normal. 

“It’s fine, really.” 

“You know, it’s okay to grieve for your wallet. It’s got a soul too, it can feel pain when you buy for Che–Charlotte.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you just forget your own sister’s name?” 

“Nah. Name she doesn’t want you to hear. I’ll tell you later.” He gave a smirk that looked half-dead but still clearly awake. “I’m getting the feeling you don’t agree with that plan.” 

“I mean, if your sister gave you a secret, you’d want to keep it secret, right?”

“But then you don’t get to use it at the right time for maximum effect.” 

“If the right time is when me and your sister are really good friends that trust each other, unless it’s a really bad nickname, you’re not going to do anything.” 

“It’s a really, really bad nickname.” Alec stopped and looked around for a second, letting out a tiny huff of air as his gaze settled back on Amy and Charlotte. “On one hand, I want to make sure she doesn’t do anything dumb, but I also really don’t want to carry her bags, and they picked a really boring spot to shop.” 

Victoria looked at him in confusion. “But I could carry the bags? I don’t think she’d make Amy get that many, anyway.” 

The deadpan look he gave her would have had a lot more impact if it looked any different from the expression he’d been wearing so far. “You’re an Alexandria package and half your PHO pics from when you used to date that guy were him carrying your bags.” He paused. “What happened to that dude, anyway?” 

She waved a hand. “Relationships. You know how they go. He was nice, but we just fought a lot, and it didn’t really work out. It’s just how things are sometimes, you know?” 

“Eh. Mostly.” 

“Oh boy, you’re such a comedian.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the friendly PR person?” Alec made an affronted noise that was completely unbelievable. “I’m just trying to make sure my sister doesn’t get wrapped up in anything untoward, and Glory Girl’s being so rude to me, incredible. Inconceivable, even.” 

Victoria just rolled her eyes at him. The reference wasn’t even funny. “I’m just here to make sure my sister makes a friend without me actually influencing her.” 

“Char’ll be fine. She’s good at that, and you’re just nicer than your sister.” She turned to glare at him, and he halfheartedly raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. I know a guy that knows a guy that knows a girl whose brother’s dog’s walker got healed by her, and she was all grumpy and sad about it. So if anybody can get through to that, it’s Char. And they really picked a boring spot to shop around in.” He jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “You wanna go looking for the ugliest possible shirt?” 

“Why?” 

“Charlotte will hate it if she comes back and you’re wearing something awful. She’s used to me doing it by now.” 

She looked over at her sister again, faintly smiling as she looked at a pair of rose gold earrings.

If Amy and Charlotte did really get along as well as they seemed to be, she was going to be seeing a lot of him, anyway. 

“Which of us is paying for it?” 

“You, obviously. You’re a true hero..” 

“Alexandria package.” 

“I am very much not scared of you.” 

Chapter Text

“What in the flying hell does he want now, we’re about to–hey, boss.” 

“Tattletale. Where are you right now?” 

“About to hit that safe house I told you about. Why? Emergency reassignment?” 

“No. I do appreciate the initiative–” Annoyed that we went ahead without his approval so soon after the ABB’s fall. “–but I would ask that you restrain yourself to one safe house per night, and specifically what remains of the ABB. The Merchants may be rats, but I think we can both agree attracting the attention of the Empire would not be…conducive to a healthy business relationship.” 

“I’m betting there’s more, though.” 

“Inform the Undersiders I will pay a thousand for every Empire safehouse you find and scout, but do not attack. The proceeds of the ABB safehouses you hit are your own, but leave the weapons behind.” 

“Too scared to put me in contact with a fence?” “You know what arms dealing would get the Undersiders.” 

“Fifteen hundred for each one we scout.” 

“Deal.” Wants this over with. Attempting to exploit gap in city. Wary after bank failure. Wary for a reason. Likely injured in bank aftermath, not literally, interests damaged. Wants to keep the Undersiders in his pocket.

Lisa’s power finished spilling details faster than the line could go dead, and she looked down at the bee-sting covered gangsters sitting at her feet. 

“Bug, how many people did you say were here again?” 

Taylor tilted her head like she was listening to something over in the corner she was standing in and looked back at Lisa, expression unreadable under her mask. “This is all of them.” 

Justifying this to herself through knowledge that these are ABB. Would not have stung otherwise, despite having epipens.

Oh, Taylor. She’d almost be adorable if her power wasn’t terrifying. 

“Good. Can you check upstairs for hidden compartments? Down here’s clear, and I need to check to make sure this cash isn’t counterfeit.” 

She nodded, and Lisa clipped the phone back into place, resuming sorting through the cash lying on the table. Her power thankfully didn’t have much to say most of the time, apart from the occasional used to snort cocaine or taken off a prostitute. None of it looked fake, and although the only real rumors of counterfeiting in the city were ones about the E88 that nobody could actually verify, it was always worth it to check. 

That pile wasn’t anything special, so she loaded the bundle back into the bag and set it on the ground next to the table. Brutus picked it up in his jaws and carried it outside, and Lisa looked away from the slightly comical sight to see Taylor staring at the dog in confusion. 

“Is that dog really doing that?” “Bitch trains them well. Anything upstairs?” 

“Some drugs, but no cash. I think…there’s a few guns, too, and they’re all over the bedrooms. There’s not a lot up there, though.” A tide of bugs poured down the stairs and out the front door, and Taylor looked at the unconscious gangsters one more time before turning her head back to Lisa, body posture worried and uncomfortable now that the main event is over. “Are we leaving?” 

Lisa nodded. “Boss said he only wants us to hit one a night, keep it calm. There was another offer, but I want to discuss it with everybody. Time to book it out of here, bug.” She gave Taylor a smile that probably landed somewhere between sincere and smug, which would work. The girl deserved a little credit after scouting and handling the entire safe house on her own. It had taken longer to find the place and get past the crowd of ABB three blocks to the south than it had to actually hit the place, and now they were just waiting for Rachel to finish loading the several thousand dollars in cash and loose valuables as Brian kept them hidden. 

Granted, a giant cloud of smoke was only so hidden, but they’d be fine for what counted. The Protectorate was highly unlikely–

She winced and shoved her power away, not eager to use it up re-receiving information she’d already figured out on her own earlier that day. The Protectorate hadn’t shown up to any former ABB holdings unless it was a confirmed cape fight with severe risk of collateral damage in the few days since they’d fallen apart, and considering the Undersiders were Brockton’s Bay’s designated “run away and still win” gang, they didn’t do that sort of messiness. 

Taylor stepped out the front door, and Lisa followed behind, the last bag of cash slung over her shoulder. Rachel was standing by the back of the van, ushering her dogs back inside, and Brian was leaning against the front of it while keeping the smokescreen around the safehouse intact. His head turned at their approach, voice slightly muffled by the helmet and his power. “Done in there?”

“Yep.” She tossed the bag of cash to Rachel, who caught it with a lot more ease that Lisa had thrown it and dropped it in the back, ignoring the thinker as she kept talking. “Boss gave us a new deal, too. We only hit one ABB safehouse a night, but he pays us fifteen hundred for every Empire safe house we find and scout out.” 

Brian managed to look like his eyes were going wide even without his face actually being visible as he slowly waved his smoke off and got back in the driver’s seat. “That’s something we need to discuss with Regent. The Empire doesn’t mess around.” 

Rachel grunted at the mention of Regent and hopped into the back of the van, gently petting Brutus. “Is he gonna show up again?” 

“I’m working on a plan to lock Cherie in, so yes.” Lisa didn’t acknowledge the implication of her question as she began to loosen her boots. “Our scores are going to have to stay low while we hide her from the boss, though. He cannot find her, and the bigger the stakes, the bigger the scrutiny. Scouting the Empire houses might be something we can do while keeping cash, but then we risk getting attacked by the capes in the area. The houses themselves should be fine with good old bug here, but it’s still the Empire.”

“You don’t need to tell me the risk of that, Lisa.” The van was off and moving now, out of earshot of the gangsters, and Brian had apparently decided it was safe to switch to actual names. “Rachel, if we do that, you wouldn’t run off in the middle, right?” 

Another grunt from the back, and Brian sighed as he turned the van in the direction of the loft. “Good enough. Taylor, anybody chasing?” “Nope.” “Then when we get home we’ll ask Alec. We need him back if we want to poke the Empire, and his sister needs something to hold her in place. Any idea how to keep her hidden for good?” 

Lisa shook her head. “She’s been here a month, but it’s still too soon. If we keep the ABB hyped up, though, the boss might pay less attention to us.” 

“Good thing we took our own initiative then.” 

She had to agree with Brian, it was good being able to at least plan where they were going to hit. 

Trying to plan out the Empire thing with Alec would hurt, though. If she didn’t have a cheat sheet to his motivations and feelings, she’d almost think he had been distracted by something the last few days. He’d probably gotten into mobile games. The alternative was getting somebody’s number, and who was that desperate to get in contact with him?

Most capes under twenty in the city.

Huh. Unlucky Wards.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure we need to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Completely.” “This is crucially important.” 

Amy looked up from the makeup kit. “But I already know what I’m doing.” 

Victoria didn’t make a sound, but Cherie could tell what the emotional effects of stifling a groan were as she kept talking. “Amy, to be entirely honest, you barely know what you’re doing. I’ve seen your makeup work, but I only knew I was seeing it because Victoria told me afterwards. So, this is where we help you.” 

“But I already know how to do makeup?” Amy’s voice had gone confused near the end, and she set the makeup kit back down on the coffee table. “I don’t really know why I’d need more, the healer outfit covers my face half the time, and it’s not like–”

“Amy, please.” Victoria dropped both her hands on the table. “You need more fun. I know you don’t want any of my friends, but Charlotte’s trying to be one of your friends, and I’m just here to make sure nobody’s eye gets poked out. Or if Charlotte’s been lying to me.” 

“I’m offended, Victoria. I’ve been honest with you.” She hadn’t, but Victoria didn’t need to know that, and Cherie checked for anything that could be suspicion as she cracked the kit open. “And Amy, yeah, what she said. Don’t you want to be prepared if somebody asks you out or if you want to make a good impression?” 

Amy didn’t twitch, but her sadness and pining spiked a little as Cherie finished the sentence, a spike that she didn’t let fully fall back down for just long enough for Amy to do a little awkward shift before letting her emotions go back to normal. “Yeah, a little.” 

Victoria leaned forward, glowing with happiness and curiosity, and Cherie boosted it a little as the blonde spoke. “Oh my god, is there somebody? Ames, you have to tell us! Who?” 

The complete freeze that Amy’s body went through as her emotions entered a state of panic spiral was absolutely perfect, and Cherie calmed it down before she could show any of it while poking Victoria’s suspicion up a tiny fraction. “Oh, that’s not fair, Victoria. No spoilers. Leave her alone.” 

Victoria left Amy with one more long look and leaned back, floating up and into the chair behind her, and Cherie popped open the makeup kit as Amy subtly shook off her severe emotional panic level. Her self control was really remarkable, stifling her emotions like that, and if she was reading it right the longing was so deep-seated it had been there for a while, years maybe. Cherie might not have been able to switch things carved that deep in, and subtlety wasn’t a very Vasil thing to do, but right now was exactly what she thrived on. 

Amy sighed, a loud motion that Cherie saw and heard right through, and looked down at the open kit. “Can we just move past that? I know what my own skin tone is.” 

“Well, yes, but do you know what makes it look good?” Cherie pointed at one of the shades within, grabbing the small mirror and the brush with her other hand. “You wouldn’t show up to a date in your hospital robes–” And did that sentence set off a cocktail of bitterness and listlessness. “--so you also wouldn’t show up looking less than your best. Right?” 

“Ames does like to try and make a point, so I don’t know.” Victoria shrugged. “Maybe.” 

Amy rolled her eyes and looked at where Cherie was pointing. “So, what, this is a test of what fits best versus what looks best?” 

“Yeah, that’s about right.” She held out the brush handle toward Amy. “That, and we’re here to check your progress.” 

“Again, you’re here to check her work.” A phone had somehow ended up in Victoria’s hand while Cherie wasn’t paying attention to her, and she was typing on it while looking at the other two. “I’m here to check your check. And protect her, if I need to.” 

Another slight amplification of Amy’s reaction, another poke of suspicion and confusion at Victoria, and things were going right as plan. Still no outside reactions from either of them, but Cherie knew that wasn’t going to happen soon. A shame it didn’t quite reach that far. But it could have been worse, her brother could have been needling them. More than he already had been in the few days since the boardwalk, at least.

“Victoria, you’re an Alexandria package, and I’m harmless.” A ring of emotions that she knew as disbelief came off Amy, and she pushed them all out of the way without missing a beat. “What can I actually do to you? Who do you think I am, Nice Guy?” 

“You know, I always thought he was one of the scarier members of the Nine. Only other stranger I know that could come close is that guy out in Utah, Mister Sinister or whatever.” “I mean, with the glass trick, they don’t really have much of a need for stealth.” 

“Oh god, you’re a cape nerd?” Amy groaned. “There’s two of you now.” 

Victoria’s face fell for a second before she pulled it back into place, and she pushed herself even further back into the seat. “Nope, no cape talk. Charlotte’s gonna help you, and I’m going to sit back and not get in the way.” 

Cherie turned away, shrugging. “Suit yourself. Anyways, Amy, I want to do a pre-emptive test. Which of these do you think fits you the best?” 

Amy took the brush from her hand and bent down closer to the kit, looking over the individual shades, and Cherie let her smile get out onto her face. They wouldn’t get the real reason for it, even if Victoria’s suspicion backfired on her, but everything was going great. 

She wouldn’t even have to be mean to anybody herself this time.

Chapter Text

Amy was between rooms at the hospital when she heard a noise that baffled her. 

Specifically, somebody whispering in the stairwell. 

“No, really, thank you so much. I’m so sorry for dragging you away, but–no, it’s okay! I’m flattered you care so much. Of course, of course! I’ll be seeing you.” 

The door closed, away from where she could see, and she decided to actually turn the corner to see who was there. 

“Damn toton , why did he have to–Amy!” Charlotte perked up to her full height and smiled wide, walking over to her. “I was just looking for you!” 

Well, that was a surprise. “Charlotte? What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to go up those stairs.” 

“I just asked one of the guards nicely, and he let me up.” “No, but how did you know I was here?” 

Charlotte let out a slightly stilted giggle. “I was just going to walk around until I found you, honestly.” 

“Charlotte, this hospital has twenty floors.” 

“And?” Her smile didn’t fade, but the fact she phrased it like a question was proof enough. 

She sighed. “Fine. Are you just here to follow me around, or was there somebody that needed healing?” 

“Trust me, if my brother or any of his friends get hurt, I won’t be running them to you. And I just wanted to see how you were doing, what’s wrong with that?” 

“Right.” Amy’s eyes dropped down and to the side, away from Charlotte. “Here to see Panacea at work, whoop-de-doo.” Great, another spectator. Usually security or Vicky handled them, but apparently Charlotte was just nice enough she could avoid that. It was like having another Vicky, except not, obviously. She was lucky enough to…not be the subject of that. 

“Uh, no? I’m here for Amy, not Panacea. I’m only here because this is where Victoria said you were, and you weren’t answering your phone.”

She stopped midway through the motion of turning away. That was more than a bit of a surprise, even though she didn’t entirely buy it. Granted, she hadn’t seemed to care the last few times, but that was still unlikely. Especially since she was a parahuman. Charlotte didn’t seem to know that she knew, or at least didn’t know the scope of her powers or she wouldn’t have been so insistent with the earrings that time, but it still made her far less believing of any of that. 

“There was a shootout earlier today. The Empire tried to hit an ABB place, and then the Undersiders showed up. I was busy trying to get rid of all the bullets, plus the one guy that had like two dozen bee stings.” 

“That doesn’t seem like that many.” “They were all on major veins.” 

Charlotte shuddered. “That sounds rough. Were any of them, y’know?” She vaguely gestured downwards, and Amy snorted. 

“Not this time. I did have to stick bits of Lung back on like two weeks ago, when they caught him, though.” She paused for a second. Lung had almost rotted to pieces because of Armsmaster’s tranquilizers, and she’d seen quite a bit of venom from various insects in his system. The bug cape had only shown up during the aborted bank heist, and she was glad she hadn’t had to use her powers on the spiders–-she didn’t know how much she could trust herself with that no matter how small-–and the Undersiders had been fast to start gunning for the ABB’s territory and cash once they’d been captured over the last week or so. 

“Amy?” Charlotte poked her in the shoulder. “Are you okay? You just stopped talking. Was the sight of Lung’s decaying body really that traumatizing?” 

“Well, yes–” Charlotte burst out laughing. “--but that’s not what I was thinking, I just realized something weird. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Alright, but I’m still going to stick around.” Charlotte finally got enough breath back to stop laughing, and walked forward to throw an arm over Amy’s shoulder. “Because you seem like you’re in a shit mood, and you probably need a break.” 

“My break’s not for another hour.” “You take like, five minutes a patient. If there’s somebody in bad enough shape they need you and only you, they’ll let you know! Here.” She dug into her pockets for a bit and pulled out a few dollar bills. “I’ve got some cash, you can get a snack or some coffee. Don’t you need biomass to heal, or something like that?” 

“The patient needs biomass, not me.” Amy stared at the money for a few seconds before taking it. Victoria had made her stop smoking back when she’d just started doing it to destress, and while she couldn’t resist her, something besides taking naps on the roof would be a good idea every once in a while. “Do you know if that one fast food place on Louis and Jayten’s busy? Not Fugly’s, the other one. I don’t trust Fugly’s.” 

The end of the sentence pulled a look of confusion and interest out of Charlotte. “Did you have to save somebody who had a heart attack there once?” 

“Somebody tried to eat the Challenger and went into full on kidney failure on the spot. We had to move him outside the restaurant first for legal reasons.” 

“I thought Alec was joking about that, honestly.” 

“Nope, they’ve got the picture on the wall.” Amy motioned toward the stairwell. “Come on, let’s go. If you’re going to follow me around like a lost puppy, I may as well feed you.” 

That got another look of confusion. “I didn’t think you were supposed to feed strays.” 

“You’re not, unless you want to get jumped by Hellhound.” The stairwell was empty, the security guard that Charlotte had been probably-flirting with having gone back downstairs, and Amy made sure she was close behind her as they made their way back to the lobby. “If you want to come and drop by again, sure, go ahead I guess, but don’t flirt with another guard to get up to me. You might get in trouble for that.” 

Charlotte pffted behind her. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” 

“And I will be running back if I get paged or called. I have to heal people and all.” 

“Sure, that’s fine. Just don’t die while you’re at it. Anyways, what do they actually have at that place?” 

“I’m a healer, nobody’s going to attack me.” 

“You never know!” Charlotte pushed past her and out the door, waving to the guards and receptionists as she headed to the front door. “There could be a crazed gunman waiting to kidnap you for leverage, or a child serial killer looking for something.” She paused. “Or a guy that just really wants a morphine hit.” 

Amy rolled her eyes. “They’re all morons. I’ll be fine.” 

Charlotte’s smile cracked a little as she pushed through the doors, showing a glimpse of teeth as she made that noise that might have been a halfway laugh. “Yeah, but won’t you let me worry a little?” 

Amy managed to keep her expression level at that, pushing past Charlotte to lead her down to the local shrine of grease and fries that had kept her alive through at least one night of patching up the aftermaths of gang brawls. The way she said it wasn’t the same way Vicky did, but it wasn’t almost tainted the same way everything about Vicky was to her, a level of difference she wanted and needed, badly. Somebody that wasn’t Vicky, worrying for her, not caring about how good she was?

“As long as you still let me do my job.” 

She would take what she could get. 

“Does that include letting me sell spare drugs?” 

“No.” 

“I’ll give you a portion of the profits.”

“I really hope you’re not serious.”

Chapter Text

“Hey there, Lisa!” 

Has a request for you.

Lisa looked up from her laptop full of Coil’s half-buried secrets to Cherie’s smiling face in the doorway to the loft’s kitchen. 

Knows you can remain cognizant of your own decisions even if your emotions are being manipulated. Unlikely to use her powers on you.

“So, I need your help for something.” 

“Is it related to your brother’s passwords?” 

“Like I need his accounts for that. No, this is something else!” She clapped her hands together and started slowly strutting towards the table. “Your power lets you dig up secrets on people, right?” 

Lisa nodded, already not wanting to know where this was going. 

“So, then, do you know about the whole New Wave thing?” 

Referring to one specific New Wave secret. Not related to Pelhams. Likely related to Dallons. Either referring to Panacea’s parentage or additional possible secret, likely involving Glory Girl. Panacea is far more powerful than it seems, or Glory Girl is the child of an affair with Manpower.

“The one with the adults or the kids?” 

“The kids–wait, what did the adults do?” 

“You’ll find out when you see Brandish and Manpower in the same room. What secret about the kids?” 

Cherie stared at her for a few seconds before breaking back out into a smile. “The big one, but that’s besides the point if you don’t get it.” 

That took a second. “Oh, you mean the Panacea thing!” 

“Yeah, exactly.” She leaned onto the table. “I mean, even I could pick it up, she’s not subtle and you can’t stop your feelings.” 

“Wait, feelings–” 

Referring to Panacea’s attraction to Glory Girl.

“Oh, that. I’ve just been waiting for a chance to use it. I was going to drop it on them at the bank, but the whole Protectorate showing up thing shot that plan before it could even form.” 

“Yeah, that one.” Cherie looked to the side in a move that was faked to draw attention, built off of use of powers to avoid suspicion–not influencing you , and then back to Lisa. “So, do you know how bad it is?” 

Lisa thought about it for a second, her power staying oddly quiet about it, and moved her laptop to the side and out of Cherie’s view. “Nope. I know it’s there, but she’s good enough at hiding it that that’s all I could get. I don’t think she’s actually ever acted on it, either. Can’t you tell that yourself?” 

“The emotions are buried so far under the other stuff it’s hard to tell, and Victoria’s a giant spotlight to me. I can barely hear anything when she’s there.” She pouted, slowly slumping forward until she was halfway to being on top of the table. “It would be useful to have more, but just telling them about Amy’s thing alone should be enough.” 

“Probably. Might not be the best idea, though.” “What do you mean?”

Lisa let out a little exhale, painfully aware of how telling this to her was risky, but it wasn’t like she was going to stop anyway. “Panacea is incredibly paranoid about her power. One little touch, literally any other severely emotional event, could kick off a downward spiral. If that gets revealed to Glory Girl or the rest of her family, and they don’t take it well, she’s going to snap.”

“Already knew that one, I can hear her emotions. It’s kind of impressive.” Cherie stood back up and stretched, her focus still on Lisa. “You don’t have anything else? Nobody else in her family she wants that I don’t know because I haven’t met yet?” 

“Honestly, I only pieced together the Glory Girl thing because of some really weird body language, a bit of social media scouring, and the fact that everybody under the sun wants to get to know her.” If her power told her less concerning information, she probably would too, but the pit of hell that was Alec and the really, just, really weird mess that was Rachel taxed her enough without going onto PHO. “But I can tell you it’s likely entirely from Panacea’s side, and if you’re going to try and recruit her or whatever, be careful. This entire plan could blow up on you.” 

“It’ll be fine.” She shrugged. “I can keep her under control.” 

Confidence lacking evidence to back it up. “Sure. Let’s go with that.” 

“You sound like you doubt me.”

“You just said you know Panacea could go completely unstable if something happens to her and she’s unsupported. I’m assuming you’re not going to be puppeting her emotions the entire way, or otherwise you would have already revealed the entire thing to her.”

“She has to do it herself. If I go in and do it, she’d blame me, and that’s just no fun.”

Lisa waved a hand. “Just be careful. Nobody needs her snapping on them. It doesn’t matter if you try to put a leash on her, if there’s nobody holding it, there’s no point.” 

“When I say she has to, I mean she’s going to.” Cherie smiled, but it was fake. “I’ve got the situation under control.”

“Cherie.” Lisa kept her voice low as she met her eyes. “Be careful.” 

“I will.” A pause. “Thanks for the help.” Cherie’s smile brightened again, and Lisa suddenly felt her mood lift. “Sorry for wasting your time.” She turned and walked back out of the kitchen, only to stick her head back in the doorway. “Oh, don’t worry about me, like, tearing apart Amy’s mental stability or something. I can’t affect emotions that deeply, and making her that depressed would just kind of…honestly, she’s mostly there already, I can’t do too much. If anything, I want her to be more stable before it all falls down.” 

She dipped out of sight again, and Lisa let out a sigh that would have been oddly content in any other situation. 

Cherie was an absolute mess to deal with, and this plan was going to backfire. At the very least, it wouldn’t work out for her. There were so many flaws that any of them, even Alec would have been able to point out where it fell apart. But they couldn’t kick her out and give up the chance to moderate her, since Alec had actually been a limiting factor on her, hopefully. And they definitely couldn’t let anybody else get ahold of her, if Lisa’s guesses to her power were accurate. 

God, she had no idea how Alec had survived dealing with this for years.

Chapter Text

Taylor let out a deep breath. 

She actually had a plan, this time. 

The Undersiders had a boss. The bank robbery had been a smokescreen for something else, she’d discovered afterwards, and she was pretty sure it was the mayor’s niece getting kidnapped, if the recent news was right. She still wasn’t sure, though, and Lisa had said that her power would be able to give an answer with even a little bit more data. And while working directly against his plans was something she said not to do, if she didn’t know said plans, she couldn’t. 

So here she was, about to raid an Empire safehouse all by herself.

She inhaled again, listening through her bugs to the Empire house she was hiding in an alley across the street from. Her cover was still important, but she had to meet the boss somehow, and this was the best way to do it. There weren’t any capes inside, but the boss had specified not attacking the Empire, implying importance, so as long as he found out she didn’t do it–or even if she did, Lisa said the odds of death were low. Granted, the question had been couched in a different one, but she knew what she’d meant. 

The door of the safe house opened, a few gang members walking out, and she snuck a fly onto each of them before they escaped her line of sight. There were about a dozen people in the house, nobody that seemed there under duress, and her bugs were picking up cold metal and gray shapes that were probably guns. No drugs this time, but she was going to leave it all behind anyway. 

One of the guards in the kitchen opened a window, leaning out, a faint smell that might have been tobacco coming through her bugs, and she took the chance while she could. Her swarm awoke and moved from the streets around her, a cloud of darkness sweeping between buildings and into the safehouse with much more public effect than she was aiming for. She rushed the ones far away first, before they could react to the buzzing or the panicking downstairs, and set the spiders to start tying things up as she ran over, epi-pens ready in case of an allergic reaction. 

None of the bees and beetles she’d sent in were moving like somebody was swelling, but she still had her bugs open the door for her to check manually. One of the guards by the stairs was swatting all the bugs off him, one hand reaching for a phone, and she snapped her baton out and swung it right into his stomach. He doubled over, and she swung again into his shin, knocking him down to the floor. He didn’t move again, groaning, but a movement in her bugs behind her told her she couldn’t rest just yet. 

Her bugs covered the enforcer rushing her with a knife in totality, and she sidestepped and spun, swinging the baton up into his shoulder. They parted out of the way just in time for his shoulder to crack, and she dropped into a crouch as the feeling of his arm starting to swing at her came through before she could actually see it. The baton wasn’t made to be jabbed, but she could feel his diaphragm from where her bugs were moving in his breathing, and it was a worth shot. 

He went down faster than the first one after she did that. Weird, she wasn’t even that strong. 

It was a few more minutes of zip-tying and web-tying the gangers before the phone Lisa had given her rang. 

“I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch, I’m a–” “Regent?” 

“Hey, dork, what are you doing?” 

“Um…” She looked around. “Extracurriculars?” 

“Sure. Hey, next time, can you be more subtle with your plague of locusts? Glory Girl almost ran out to smack you when she saw it.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that.” She gave him a weird look that he couldn’t actually see. “Was Tattletale too busy, or something?”

“Nah, Glory’s just standing on the balcony right now watching for you again. Hey Victoria!” His voice drifted away from the phone a little, and the confusion of the fact that Alec was apparently hanging out with Glory Girl hit Taylor. “You wanna say hi to one of my friends?” 

“No, it’s okay–” 

A distant and indistinct reply came through, and Alec made a noise of vague disappointment. “Alright. Dork, next time Vicky and her friends are getting together, I’m introducing you to them. Probably. You need friends, just ask Lisa, she’ll know.” 

“Al..right.” 

Alec hung up, and Taylor blinked in place for a few seconds before accepting the fact that apparently, he knew Glory Girl well enough to be able to do that. She wanted more friends, any chances at that, but going back to a group of socialite high schoolers rubbed her the wrong way. Alec’s presence in the group was a sword with so many edges it looped back around to being a neutral point. 

She mentally shelved the deliberation in time for her bugs to pick up a familiar motorcycle engine on the edge of her range, and moved to go sit on the step as it got closer. A few bugs were left behind on the gang members to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid, but the rest left and started crawling around the outside of the house, staying clear of the streets and the other buildings. 

To his credit, this time, Armsmaster wasn’t already drawing his halberd when she saw him. He just slowly rolled to a stop in front of the house, hidden gaze tracking her, and she just stayed sitting on the front step with her hands on the concrete. 

“Are you here on Undersiders business?” HIs tone was stiff, and she shook her head. “No. Not technically. I didn’t steal anything, I just thought this was a good one because there was a lot of cash and guns inside.” 

His jaw relaxed a bit, and she got the feeling he would have been raising his eyebrows if she could see them. “You can feel through the bugs.” 

“All of it. That’s how I heard you that night with Oni Lee.” 

He nodded, slightly tilting his head to look at the house. “You are here on Undersider business.” He said it like the lie detector had fed him the answer. 

“I need to meet their boss to confirm something. I’m not sure, but I think the bank robbery was a cover.” 

“The mayor’s niece.” “That’s what I thought.” 

His lip twitched a bit, like he was biting the inside of it. “That’s only a hunch, and you still haven’t met their boss.” 

“Which is why I’m trying to disrupt them plan without being caught. I don’t know if you need to report this or not, I was just going to call the cops in a bit if nobody showed up, but I’m working on a way to get close to them without being busted.” 

“This is dangerous.” 

“I know that part–”

He waved a hand to cut her off. “I mean the Empire. You’re trying to pull the Undersiders’s boss out of hiding, but provoking the Empire is a fraught way to do it. You’ve been in two cape fights and an aborted robbery, and bugs will not help you against Hookwolf.” Something flashed across his jaw for a second before he sighed. “The Empire is dangerous. Their capes can beat you, easily. You do not want to give them reasons to.” 

“Is this you telling me not to?” “This is me giving you advice. Don’t provoke the Empire alone, even if you’re certain you can win. You haven’t verified that, and it’s not worth putting yourself at even more risk if you do it by yourself.” 

Armsmaster reached up to the side of his helmet, tapping a pattern along the side, and nodded to her. “I’ll keep your involvement out of the report, and ask the BBPD to keep it quiet. But this is dangerous. If you can find a way to pull their boss out of hiding, good, but don’t throw yourself into the fire doing it. Especially all on your own.” 

“And a baton might not entirely cut it. You may need to start investing in alternative weaponry.” 

Taylor nodded again, staying quiet, and slowly pulled her swarm away with her as she walked away back to somewhere to change out of her costume. 

She stopped at one of the old caches she’d discovered Oni Lee had used to own along the way. 

Glaives were probably too close for halberds for him to have used anyway.

Chapter Text

Lisa leaned back from her laptop on her desk, stood up, ran her hands through her hair, and winced at the beginnings of a headache she was getting. 

It wasn’t even from her power. 

PHO was unreliable sometimes, but she’d gotten what she needed to know, that being that Taylor had definitely gone out and hit an Empire cash and gun stash house last night. She’d then come home with a giant spear-like weapon that had definitely not been hers before, asked for where the toolset was, and then tried to figure out how the collapsible portion of her baton actually did it's collapsing before stashing the weapon there and heading back to her home. 

If she wasn’t a secret mole for Armsmaster before, she definitely was now. 

She started pacing her room, thinking. Telling the others wasn’t an option, obviously. That would just get everybody mad at everybody. 

It was time to start considering damage control, though. 

Alec and Cherie were the first things she was worried about. They were twin time bombs, prime targets for any villain group looking to assert any control. Coil would definitely try to push Cherie into proper joining, but a manipulation battle was something Lisa didn’t want to witness, considering Cherie could and would attempt to sway him to her side. Alec, he already had, but if the extent of their powers managed to get out the Empire wouldn’t stop for a second in trying to scoop both of them up. 

What would happen if their father found out where they were was something Lisa did not want to consider, and in fact would rather like to avoid. So they were staying hidden away, not doing public cape things, and definitely not doing anything that looked like Heartbreaker’s children.

Thankfully, her other teammates were far easier to deal with in a worst case scenario. Rachel’s case was dangerous, with too many bodies to write off, but enough lawyers wouldn’t hesitate to use the power-influenced psychology line to get the problem reduced, if they even got caught. Brian was far less of an issue to deal with, a plea deal with some provisions for his family would keep him covered, but that was the same thing that was just going to drive him deeper into Undersiders business. and none of that took into account the fact that Taylor herself was still an absolute mess and the reason Lisa had accepted her being there was the fact that the girl needed some support and the Undersiders were, somehow, the best way of doing it.

Was surprised at the bank because she didn’t expect Armsmaster, not because she didn’t expect a response. 

Wonderful. Lisa sat back down at her desk, eyes grazing to the small text files of notes she’d been getting on Taylor. Looking back, it wasn’t garbage in garbage out, just garbage analysis. A failed reinterpretation of her own power. And Armsmaster was either an idiot or he didn’t want to lose track of a girl that kept throwing herself at capes that wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. Lisa was really hoping it was the latter so Taylor could have another handler before she tried to jump Coil, in the event she wasn’t able to stop her because of some Coil related obligation or the use of whatever contingencies he almost certainly had. 

She had clearly gone after the Empire house to mess with Coil, since he’d literally just told them to not go after the Empire, probably hoping to get him in person, but one house would only get the Empire a little annoyed, and Coil wouldn’t notice. Taylor wasn’t the only one feeling a little antsy about only scraping up what was left of the ABB, Brian knew exactly what it looked like from the outside and Rachel just really wanted to hit a dogfighting ring again, but Coil was saving up for something big, and hitting the bank hadn’t been the goal originally. In fact, he seemed to be stalling for time. And if Taylor had told Armsmaster, then he would have had to tell Triumph and the Wards, but Coil hadn’t known from inside the PRT…

Real-time non-combat thinker, potentially postcognitive but unlikely. Would have used blackmail instead of hostilities with you. Nature of requests and acquisition of mayor’s niece implies plan, also implies fallibility in plan, constructed by himself without use of his power. Power assists with execution of plan, not construction, not long-term thinker. 

Her power shut itself out before the headache could kick in, and she held it there as she thought about it herself. It needed data to work, and didn’t hesitate to be uncertain, but Coil’s wasn’t actual timeline jumping, at least. It probably analyzed possible points of failure and how to avoid them, and the kid’s power was a way to find out where to really focus. A proper thinker, not some dimensional changes. An answer for that question.

None of which would help if he didn’t see it coming, because he wasn’t a precognitive, and Taylor didn’t care apart from the fact that she had to be subtle without getting noticed. 

Sensory input from bugs is simultaneous, not delayed. Doesn’t need to stop and focus on bugs, always receiving input and controlling. Multitasking only limited by the physical ability to fit bugs in her range.

Lisa slapped her power down again, leaning back in her chair. The edges of a plan were starting to crawl together in her mind, one resulting in a snake pinned to the wall, and she smiled. 

Taylor was still going to be a pain, feeding information to the heroes, but it was something that she could live through. It was something she could control. Not actual manipulation, that would just drive her out, possibly past the safety net that Armsmaster had become, but assistance. Keep her actually on both sides of the fight to make sure that everybody won. 

After all, she had been clearing out entire buildings by herself. If nobody else properly grasped how powerful she was, all Lisa had to do was explain it. She was a freight train in motion, on tracks rotting beneath her, and it was better to aim the crash instead of getting hit by it. 

Lisa closed PHO’s browser window and opened up the map of the city she had, safehouses and stashes from all the gangs nice and edited in. 

Taylor was either going to crack Coil open, or get them both killed. 

Lisa was going to get that first one. 

Chapter Text

Cherie really wished she could give Amy a beer while she was on duty. 

Obviously, she wanted to know if the healer was a lightweight, maybe get some secrets that Amy didn’t think she knew spilled out, but she could also admit that the girl really needed a break at some point. Just because she was going for long-term chaos didn’t mean that she wasn’t actually starting to like her as something vaguely like a friend. 

And she definitely needed some alcohol right then, if how she was lying on the break room couch with her robes thrown over her eyes was any indication. 

“Are you okay in there?” 

“Do you have any alcohol?”

“You told me not to bring any.” Despite a few pokes of rebellion. 

“I…ugh.” Amy peeled her robes off her eyes, squinting at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling, and turned her attention to Cherie. “How did you even get in here?” 

“You said I could follow you around, so I did. You really seem like you need it today.” 

“But this is the break room.” “They think I’m your emotional support human.” 

She sighed, not of exhaustion, but of sadness and a bit of resentment that didn’t seem like it had a source in the room, and let her eyes shut again. “Charlotte, can…can I talk to you, about something?” 

“Of course, no problem. Is this a thing we can do here, or is it private?” 

A mix of emotions that sounded like every negative emotion Amy had ever felt started thrumming in the background, cacophonous, and Cherie shoved it out of her mind before she could shut it up. Touching anything now would just hurt the point, especially when Victoria wasn’t here. 

Amy stood up from the couch, holding a hand to her head to let the wooziness pass for a second, and started walking, tossing a mutter behind her. “Let’s go to the roof.” 

Cherie just shrugged where Amy couldn’t see her and followed, tuning out the sound of her emotions as the healer led her up the stairwell to the roof hatch. A few discordant hits of anxiety and nerves poked through, but she didn’t leave it around to see if it was undercut by anything. Amy wasn’t actually saying anything yet, opening her mouth every few floors but stopping before the words could actually get out, and she let out another sigh as she pushed the door to the roof open. 

“I know you’ve only been here for a few weeks now, but I need somebody to talk to, and you’re more receptive than Vicky’s been in a while. Look, I…I really need to talk about something.” 

She sat down next to one of the air conditioners, limply motioning for Cherie to approach. “I know you’re a parahuman.” 

Cherie’s eyes went wide, and Amy waved her down. “I won’t say it’s fine, because you should be doing something with your powers, whatever they are. Helping people, probably. But you’re not a gang cape, you’re not a villain, you’re not in college, or you’re skipping it with a stranger trick, I don’t care. You’re the only person outside my family I can think of talking to about this.” 

“Is it about constantly worrying about getting shot by a laser in this city?” 

She smiled, weakly, and wasn’t happy. “I’m immune to that. No, it’s about something else.” 

Amy sighed like she was about to say something big, her nervousness poking through even as Cherie tried to listen to her over her emotions, and spoke. 

“I don’t know how much you know about New Wave, but I was adopted.” Her fingers tapped on the gravel, and Cherie sat down against the doorway. “Brandish and Flashbang aren’t actually my parents, it’s not a secret. I don’t know who my dad actually is, but I’ve been thinking, and…what if he’s a villain?” 

Cherie leaned forward, interested. “Are you scared?” 

“Of him? I don’t know, I don’t know who he is.” Her fingers tightened into a fist, pulling the gravel into her grip. “I don’t know what that makes me, but I was thinking, and…I don’t want to be a villain. I want to be a hero, I don’t want to become that, to break my rules, but I feel like I need to know now, and…” She sighed again and loosened her grip, 

“Fuck it, let’s go looking.” 

Amy looked up at her, gravel dropping back down, and Cherie smiled and lightly shrugged. “You’ll never know if you don’t look, right? What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Worst that could–I could be the daughter of a villain! Some murderer or something, or–or Bonesaw’s older brother!” 

“Yeah, but what would that do to you?” She pushed the tiniest bit of calm into Amy, just enough to get her to listen. “You’re still you, right? Big miss Panacea? Just knowing couldn’t hurt, right?” 

“I–maybe.” Amy shuffled, pulling herself up a little further against the air conditioner. “I–I just want to know why, and hopefully not worry anymore, but I’m scared that if he is a villain then I might be a villain too–” 

“You spend your free time volunteering at a hospital and haven’t been in a combat engagement your entire life, I’m pretty sure you’re not a villain.” “Do you know one to prove it?” 

Cherie played up a flinch at that, not that she actually cared, and Amy’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god.” 

“My family–” “Alec’s Leet, isn’t he?” 

She immediately started coughing violently. 

“What-no, no, Alec’s not fucking Leet. He’s not pathetic, he’s just a lazyass that plays a lot of games. Why, I don’t understand, but if he wants to be a little computer pest, he can be. No, it’s just, my mom and dad, back home, they got wrapped up in a little bit of some stuff, and I know what it’s like.” 

Amy’s eyes went even wider, and she got quiet. “Oh, god, you triggered because of a villain, didn’t you?” 

“It happens. Not fun, but it happens.” 

She nodded, feelings declaring she wouldn’t ask more, and let out a breath tinged with resolve. “Fine, fine. You’re right. I should know, before I worry.” 

Amy stood back up, brushing her robes off and taking a few deep breaths. “I need to get back on shift, but could you try and do some searching? I don’t remember exactly when I was adopted, but it was probably before I was six or seven, and powers have similarities and all that so it was an organic-themed villain, maybe. I can ask Vicky for help if you can ask Alec?” 

Cherie scoffed. “Like he’d be useful. I’ll try, though. Are you going to be okay?” 

“Maybe.” 

Her emotions couldn’t agree on anything. 

It wasn’t anything on Cherie’s conscience. She was still, in the abstract, aiming for the little reveal-the-crush trick, cause some chaos maybe, but now she had another angle for it. The revelations of the parents did usually lead to very important sibling conversations, and even though Victoria’s suspicion didn’t like staying up, it had to start working at some point. 

Besides, she was almost starting to like hanging around Amy.

Chapter Text

“Do I want to know what you’re doing in the library?”

The only reply Alec got was Cherie turning to him from the desk she was sitting at, music blaring through her MP3 loud enough for him to hear even when the earbuds were in, and making an noise like he should have already known the answer. 

“I’m doing research.” 

He leaned over and looked at the search engine open on the library computer. 

“Does Nilbog have a daughter–what the fuck, Cherie?” 

“Amy wants to know who her daddy is, but she’s too scared to do the research herself. So, I’m doing her a favor.” 

“The first page of results of that search is either Bonesaw theorizing or disturbing capefic. None of this is related to Amy.” 

“I know. Kind of a shame the theories are wrong, that could have done something.” 

He ignored that for now. “I didn’t know you actually cared enough about this.” 

“Oh, to be honest, I really don’t.” She made a disappointed face and hit the button on her MP3, the song changing. “Why do I still have that one on here? Whatever. Anyway, I don’t really care about who her dad is, but I want to see her react to it, and I’m pretty sure it’ll do most of my work for me.” 

“Still having trouble getting your medic girlfriend?” 

“I told you, I’m not trying to get a medic girlfriend. Just a medic. The original plan was taking a long time, and I really want to see what would happen when she finds out. I won’t even need to keep adding suspicion on either of them, all the snooping around’s just going to make her concerned enough that she’ll be able to figure it out without trying.”

His stare continued for a second longer, and she let out a huff. “I haven’t even been touching her love.”

“You’re just unimaginative.” “You’re trying to bang your team leader.” 

He made a mock gasp of shock. “I resent that implication! If I wanted to, I totally would have already. Ask, that is.” 

Cherie raised an eyebrow and turned back to the computer. “I’ve decided it wasn’t Nilbog. New Wave wasn’t actually there for Ellisburg, so they couldn’t have picked her up then, and digging a child out of that mess would have been all over the news. Crawler showed up too far back to still be able to give birth, we know what happened to Mannequin’s family, and–it wasn’t a Slaughterhouse member, is my point. Or an S-Class.” 

“No need to prove it to me. You’re the one that’s spouting a Slaughterhouse Nine fixation on a medic.”

“I’m not spouting them, I was just filing off an explanation. But while you’re here, do you know any organic-powered villains that were in this city? You’ve been here longer and know more about this place than I do.”

“Really?” “I just looked you up after I saw a video.”

Did she think he actually chose this place? It wasn’t even his own volition. Only half, at least. “Nope. I’m only here cause Boston was too far and Legend’s lasers are bullshit.” 

“Useless idiote .”

 “ J’m’en calice ton avis .” 

“The least you could do if you’re here is help me. That’s literally why you came here.” 

“But if you’re looking for Panacea’s long lost father figure, why didn’t you just ask Lisa?” 

“Didn’t get the chance. She told me it was a bad idea to be poking around in Amy’s secrets a few days ago.” 

Alec ran that through his head one more time. “So Lisa didn’t just say not to do it, she said it was a bad idea.” 

“Yep.” 

Well, that didn’t say that much, but it was still a red flag. But she probably expected Cherie to do it anyway. He shrugged. “I can’t tell if that’s genetic or if you’ve just picked up the time-honored tradition of doing whatever Lisa says is a bad idea.” 

“She just doesn’t believe in me, the coward.” She changed the song again. “Her loss. But that’s besides the point. It's good to see you here and not knocking off another game store. I know you still need a rematch with the Wards, but this is far more important than that, and I do appreciate all the time you’re taking out of your day for this. ” 

“I wasn’t actually looking for you. I just got a text asking–wait a minute.” He’d been tricked into doing work, hadn’t he? 

“Oh! Alec!” Victoria rounded the corner, a stack of books tucked under her arm, and smiled as she floated over to the desk Cherie was at. Something tickled the back of his brain, probably her aura, and he dodged the attempt at a friendly hug by slumping into a seat right next to Cherie. “You’re here! Great, did Charlotte tell you what we were doing? Amy’s getting a little worried, and I still felt a little bad over the whole last, like, year so–” 

Yep. He’d been tricked into doing work. 

“But why?” 

“I want to help.” She dropped the books on the desk, parahuman textbooks on organic powers and cape families, and her smile faltered. “Amy’s stressed out about this, and I think she has been for a while now. Our parents are…they don’t have positive opinions on villains, and their kids don’t get any slack either. I don’t like villains, they suck, but I don’t go for the sins of the father. And if finding out helps Amy by giving her clarity or something, I’m willing to do that.”

“Wait a minute.” He held up a hand, vaguely gesturing at the textbooks. “Do we actually know it's her father? What if her mom’s like, some PRT doctor or something? It doesn’t have to be her dad. She’s adopted.” 

“It was her dad.” Victoria rested her hand on a chair, finally setting down on the ground. “She doesn’t remember much of what he was like, but she knows that her mother was dead, and our parents only mentioned her dad when they brought her home.”

“And they wouldn’t have brought her home unless her dad had just been captured or whatever, yeah, got it. That makes sense, I guess.” 

“It’s not like New Wave would kidnap a child.” Cherie turned to the computer, and immediately turned back to them, looking worried. “Your parents wouldn’t kidnap a child, right?” 

Victoria just stood there, eyes wide. “I mean, nobody attacked trying to get her back?” 

“Probably safe to assume it was after he got arrested then, cool.” Cherie returned her gaze to the computer. “And you’re sure your parents never fought the Nine?” 

“Amy doesn’t even look like Bonesaw.” A smile returned to Victoria’s face as she finished the sentence, and she gestured to the books. “So, Alec, you want to help?” 

“Would you have asked me here if saying no was an option?” 

Her smile went self satisfied as she floated forward, picking him up out of his chair. He tried to make her trip or drop him as she set him down in a chair much closer to the textbooks, but she barely wobbled as she sat down in the seat that was rightfully his. A fake pout didn’t get anything out of her, but the hopefully adorable grabby motions did, and she got out to let him swap seats. 

He let out a sigh of satisfaction as he sat back down. This was a nice chair. Had cushions. Decent odds of stealing this later. 

“Now,” Victoria said, “what do you know about healing powers?”

“They’re weird, and none of your family has any?” 

“Yeah. Which is our next subject. How familiar are you with the history of New England villains?” 

Not at all, unless Quebec counted as part of New England. But he could help her out. He’d come here when she’d texted, anyway. 

He held out a hand. “Give me the textbook.” 

Cherie snickered. And immediately dropped her MP3.

Chapter Text

“You’re sure it’s not somebody in Canada?” 

“If they had a child to adopt, Narwhal would take it.” 

“The Guild might have missed it.” 

Alec raised an eyebrow at his phone. “Canada.” 

Victoria winced on the other end. At least, she sounded like she did. “Right, Heartbreaker. And he’s the master, not something organic. So, not Canadian.” 

“Yep. Probably not somebody active either, I’d be all over that shit if my kid was the best healer in the world.” He fiddled with the neck of his shirt, popping the top button open with his other hand as best he could. 

“Plus, Mom would be super paranoid about it.” She sighed, and he could relate. The one time Brandish had dropped in on an Undersiders thing, she’d seemed like a bitch. 

Victoria cleared her throat. “Anyway, did you get the list of east coast villains?” 

“Nope.” He didn’t actually know that many American villains, and spending more time around the library than he got pulled into would be bad for things like staying subtle. 

“Alright, I’ll do it later. Hey, do you want to come over and work on it? Amy’s gonna be at the hospital for a few more hours, you can bring Charlotte along.” 

“Maybe. She’s got–”

“Regent!” Brian yelled from across the giant warehouse. “If you’re going to be here, do shit!”

“Yeah, she’s got college stuff, sorry.” 

“Bullshit, I know you two don’t go to school.” 

Alec huffed. “I gotta go now. See you, Victoria.” 

“Just call me Vicky or something already. Bye!” She hung up, and Alec pocketed his phone in time to make the Empire dumbass rushing at him with a bat trip and faceplant. He jammed his scepter into the guy’s back, waiting until he stopped moving, and looked up, twirling the weapon between his fingers. 

He could read Brian’s pissed expression under his helmet even as the man threw his arms forward and sent a cascade of smoke toward Fog, blocking the other cape for a second before turning to face him. “Regent, what the fuck! What are you doing?” 

He had exactly the excuse. “Extracurriculars.” 

“You’re supposed to be watching her! I swear, if you left her alone, I’m cutting off your share for a month! If you’re going to run off, the least you can do is–shit!'' A concrete block the size of a watermelon whizzed through the air, and Brian dropped down before it could smash through his helmet, pulling Alec down with him as a baseball-sized rock flew through where his head was. Brian threw out more smoke, blocking up Rune’s sightlines, and Alec slightly regretted the fact he didn’t have something more useful. Like a gun. 

Brian let out a high-energy sigh, stretching his arms as the smoke stayed in place, and he looked around. “ Fine, you’re here and fighting. I can keep Night and Fog contained, but I don’t know how Rune’s power interacts with mine. Could you make her fall?” 

“Yeah, if I could hijack her and make her fall, but I’d really rather not add more murder to my record now by making her do her best seizure impression.” Another piece of concrete flew through the smokescreen, completely missing them, and the sound of an angry teenager cursing echoed through at the same time that Fog began to seep through his cloud. He shoved out more smoke, pushing the cloud back further, but Alec could tell it was not going to hold. “You wanna swap?” 

Before Brian could say something about that idea, something charged through the Rune side of his smoke, faintly chittering, and Alec almost whipped his scepter up before he realized it was just Taylor trailing some disoriented bugs. She was still holding the big glaive she’d brought in, the thing was almost as tall as her and that was saying something, but it wasn’t covered in blood or broken yet, and she started speaking as she rebalanced herself. 

“Tattletale’s got the schedules, and Bitch is still holding out against most people, but–” She took a quick step to the side and dodged half a cinder block that had been going for her torso, a nervous breath escaping her. “Krieg’s on his way, and apparently Bitch can smell Cricket or whoever runs the dogfights. We need to go, now. Running retreat?” 

Brian nodded. “As soon as Tattletale gets out of the office, we get on the dogs and run. Regent, run interference.” 

“Pay me an extra hundred for this.” “You’re lucky if you evenl get paid.”  

He’d take what he could get. Alec stood back up, scepter firmly in his hand, and Brian dropped the smoke between them and Rune. Taylor threw a thin cloud of bugs at her before running off, and Alec didn’t check what her or Brian were getting up to before scuffing the sole of his boot on the ground. Rune wobbled, loose balance getting worse as he tried to swing her leg out, and he made her mirror his motion as he jerked his arm. The piece of pavement she was flying on wobbled and began to crack, and she moved as it broke in half, doing her best Kid Win impression as she flew the vastly reduced chunk of concrete down and at Alec’s face. 

He sidestepped it, and she threw her hand out, a handful of pebble-size concrete pieces flying right into his face. The impact sent him staggering, his mask still somehow intact, and he’d barely recovered before Rune did the shaker equivalent of dropkicking him, slamming her lift right into his chest. His ribs managed to not crack, but his scepter dropped out of his hand as the concrete disintegrated on contact, and the sound of something crumbling made him limply pick his head up to see Rune prying a new platform out of the ground. 

“Don’t–” 

Alec jerked one arm out and made her half-drop the platform, the rubble dropping back into the ground, and he lunged for his scepter as he ignored the screaming bruises in his chest. Rune dropped both hands down and threw them forward, chunks of the floor soaring up and past Alec as he dodged, one clipping him in the leg as he lunged. The tip of scepter grazed Rune, and she jumped back, the movement of the rubble flickering for just long enough for him to recover into a roll and pop right back up in front of Rune, jamming the scepter into the area he was vaguely sure her throat was. The weapon crackled, and she let out a noise that vaguely sounded like a scream before dropping to the ground, groaning. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Hard pass, I don’t even know what you look like.” 

Rune just groaned again, and Alec rolled his shoulders and started running out of the warehouse. A cloud of bugs was clustered around the door, and it parted for him as he ran through, clearing to reveal Rachel and her dogs still juiced up, her and Brian already on one as Lisa and Taylor ran out of the other door out of the warehouse, Lisa holding a bunch of papers under one arm and Taylor carrying a duffel bag in the hand not holding her glaive. He threw himself onto the dog behind Brian, deciding not to make any snarky jokes yet, and held on to his back as the dogs took off. Brain threw out one last giant cloud of smoke, and Rachel whistled as the dogs kept running. 

They didn’t stop until they were a solid dozen blocks away, the dogs fading back to normal, and Lisa spoke up. “Well, I got the schedules for every Empire drug run in the next two weeks, and I can probably pick up every cash drop in the city for the next three off this, plus maybe another hit.” 

“Yeah, but the boss is going to kill us for this.” 

Taylor just lifted her bag in reply to Brian. “This has ten thousand in it.” 

Well, that was worth it for Alec. 

He immediately whirled on him. “Did you leave your fucking sister unattended?” 

“Absolutely not. She’s still at the loft, I know where she is.” 

“You two are going to give me a stroke.”

Chapter Text

“The alternative is that she’s Othala’s and Victor’s child they abandoned for not being blonde.” 

Alec’s expression didn’t change for a few seconds, before he raised his eyebrow a fraction at Cherie. “Are you just trying to justify putting ‘bone daddy’ on Lisa’s laptop?” 

“You would have gotten it on there anyway if I asked you to do any research at all for this. Or even if you ever got on her laptop at all.” She sighed. “It’s not like she was paying attention to me or it. The point is, her dad’s Marquis.” 

He shifted a little on the couch, making a grabbing motion at her, and she handed him the papers she’d printed off Lisa’s computer, a report that she’d put together by feeding her notes through the aggregator program. He flipped through them like he was barely reading them, but started snickering around the second to last page. 

“Ooh boy, her daddy never got married. That’s…wow, you’d think more people would be writing about this. Did they have any idea who the mom was?” 

“What do you think I am, a detective?” She grabbed the papers away from him. “I have no clue who she is, it doesn’t matter. But this covers her power, too. If she had some derivative of his bone powers, the same principle that goes for us, then she can go for muscle and bone both but she can only heal, and it explains why she can’t do brains, because bones can’t think. He was Birdcaged around the same time that she got adopted, and we literally know that it was New Wave that got him because they were all over the news for going after his house and unmasking after. It all tracks.” 

He snorted. “Apart from the adoption papers. Public my ass.”

“God, I hope what this is saying is true.” A smile broke over Cherie’s face, enthusiastic and eager, and she leafed through the papers one more time. “If it turns out Amy’s adopted mom that hates her actually kidnapped her in the first place, I’d need to be there to figure out what the hell anybody was thinking in this. Just hearing them won’t be enough to get it. I can’t wait to see her reaction, it’ll be better than the–well, it won’t be as fun as Victoria finding out, but it’ll be close.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Alec stretched himself out with a groan, satisfaction slipping into him as his back made a faint cracking noise and he doubled the amount of space he was taking up on the couch. He wasn’t even wary of her, after this long. “Are you sure you were actually making her suspicious of Amy and not you? Cause I’m pretty sure she thinks you’re flirting with her sister.” 

Cherie blinked at him. “Seriously?” 

“I told her you weren’t. I don’t know if she bought it.” 

“Does she honestly think I’d do that in nazi central with her parents watching? I mean, really.” Cherie put the papers down on the chair next to her and reached for Lisa’s laptop again, re-checking the aggregator for anything she’d missed printing. “I’m going to have to try and aim that better, then. She’s supposed to be getting suspicious at Amy only liking two people on the planet, not me for existing. Actually, I’m just going to have to amplify what Amy’s feeling, then. Make it more obvious, maybe she’ll crack. Lisa did say she was a little unstable if something went wrong.”

“Yeah, about that.” 

She looked up from the computer, meeting Alec’s alert gaze as he returned to sitting on the couch like a normal person in a stunning contradiction. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” 

Cherie scoffed. “Of course. I know what I’m doing.” 

“Yeah, and so does Lisa, but the bank robbery was still a fucking mess. Are you really sure that this is going to work? Playing with somebody that goes boom on rejection is like trying to play hot potato with a batch of uranium.”

“That’s what I’m setting myself up as, her fallback. Look, if I have to prove it, I won’t even touch her when she confronts her parents or whatever. She’s going to come running to me afterwards because there’s no way she’s going to go to Victoria.” 

“Unless you’ve managed to make her ignore whatever is keeping her from doing something dumb about that right now.” “Her shame.” “Yes, that’s always an infinite resource.” 

“Of course it is.” Cherie gestured out with her arms like she was presenting something obvious to him, which she was. “I can drag it out forever. If she does something stupid on it, she’d run away from that, too. Either way, she ends up in my pocket. Even if nothing happens at all, she’d probably just give up at some point.” 

“All of this only works if you can actually get her associating the emotions right.”

“Jean-Paul, Alec, brother, it’s going to work. I can disintegrate a relationship just fine.” 

He looked at her for a second more, opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then let out a quiet sigh and sunk back into the couch, head turned away with a tinge of sadness. 

“You’re just being like dad.”

“Well, that’s the point?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “My powers are better than his—“

“Are you sure about that?” Alec turned back to look at her, faintly incredulous. “You still haven’t gotten anybody permanently. You couldn’t even grab somebody from wherever they are now to bring with you.” 

“But I don’t need to, because I’m better. My range is better, the fact I can track people is way better, my long-term impact–” “Is clearly shit, because you haven’t used it successfully yet, your aim is looking worse, and the entire thing is not looking too hot right now at all.” 

“Even he had growing pains with his power at first. I’m still working on it, and I can fix my mistakes ” She put the laptop back down, the command to print the final draft of the pages already running. “Jean-Paul, I can do this better than dad did. Even if I’m not keeping her, I’m going to do it.” 

“But why? You’re putting in so much effort for no reason.” 

“Because it’s fun.” 

“Fun for you, or fun for dad?” 

“Wh—both, obviously.” 

He didn’t answer. Just kept looking away.

The disbelief in the air was the loudest thing she’d heard from him in years. 

She was annoyed. That brat. “I do enjoy this, you know.” 

“Sure.” 

Cherie pursed her lips and reached for the remote. He didn’t stop her as she turned on the TV, setting Lisa’s laptop down on the chair next to her.

“I don’t doubt you enjoy your power,” He said.

“You don’t think I enjoy the long cons?” 

“I’ve never seen you have fun in any of them.”

“I’ve never done one myself before.” 

The TV couldn’t drown out what his music like. 

“I can do it. Don’t even try and stop me.” 

She said it like a challenge. It was. 

He didn’t rise to it, standing up and walking off toward his room. 

Like he even could stop her. 

Chapter Text

Victoria was kind of surprised that Alec had printed out all those papers. 

“Char figured this out.” 

That explained it. 

She moved the midtown cafe’s shockingly good cup of coffee out of the way and pulled the stack of papers closer to her, flipping through them. It was a long list of information about the main candidate for Amy’s biological father, an assessment of where her powers could have come from and how they were properly manifesting, and a shorter list of other candidates that had been on the east coast and that new Wave had fought before. Most of the shortlist seemed unlikely, especially the ones even she didn’t recognize, and she dropped the pages back down as she looked up to Alec. 

“So you guys settled on this main one?”

He reached for her cup of coffee, got his hand slapped away, and flipped to a page near the back. “Char’s Marquis guess makes sense to me..” 

She thought for a second, and nodded. “Mom did have a fixation on fighting him, but they went for his house. Wouldn’t it be pretty obvious if he had a daughter?” 

“Brigade broke the rules, not the news. And she was going off your time frame, so if it’s wrong, your fault or something.” He leaned back and looked over at the cafe’s menu, blankly staring at it before shrugging with the least effort possible and turning back to her. “She did all the search engine shit.” 

“No, no, I can see it.” Victoria moved her coffee a little closer to her, out of his reach, without looking away. “But his powers were bone, not healing stuff. It’d be pretty hard for a healer to be a villain.” 

“Bonesaw.” “Way to kill the mood.” 

Alec wordlessly smirked, eyes barely matching the mirth he was clearly feeling, and began to get up to order something before Victoria slid the other cup of coffee on the table toward him. His smirk dropped, and he looked between it and her for a second before a flat, smug smile with absolutely no teeth crept onto his face. 

She recognized that kind of expression. 

“Don’t. Or I’ll shred the papers and make you print them again.” 

His smile didn’t change at all, but he didn’t say anything, just taking a long slow sip before returning his expression to its normal blankness and putting the cup down right on the edge of the Marquis page. “Marquis was all bone power, but it like, grew out of himself to start, and he could restructure it. It wasn’t like your mom, he could fix his own bones and shit. Best guess, Amy’s power’s kind of like that, but for the non-bone stuff. Her dad could do anything with bones, and she can affect anything, but can only heal.” 

“But she patches over scars and numbs pain.” 

“Fuckin, proteins and shit.” He shrugged. “The brains are some Manton thing, probably. Powers are stupid.” 

Victoria nodded. It was actually a pretty solid guess, without the specifics of Amy’s power, but everything considered it did make sense. A lot of sense. And considering how cape family powers tended to run along similar themes but slowly getting stronger, that was a pattern that perfectly fit. 

“Yeah, they’re bullshit,” she replied. She moved the papers off to the side of the table, pushing Alec’s cup of coffee back toward him. “I’ll  run this over to Amy, see if she agrees, so thanks for that. Really, thanks.” 

“No problem, you pulled me into it anyway.” He gave her another smirk and got up to go, taking the cup of coffee with him, and for a guy that seemed dead inside he was moving pretty fast to go. 

“What, you’re leaving already?” 

Alec stopped two steps away from the table and turned around. “Was this not a business thing?” 

“Uh, no?” She was pretty sure her expression matched her actual confusion. “I just wanted to, you know, talk to you and get some coffee? I didn’t even know you’d finished, that was a nice surprise.” 

“Char did, I didn’t.” A smile flashed across his face for a second before he made a strange noise that took a second for Victoria to decide as him choking down a snicker. “No, you don’t deserve that. You’re actually being nice.” He sat back down, coffee cup back on the table. “Alright, what do you want to talk about?” 

“Well, we’ve hung out before, but it’s always been around one of our siblings or just by accident. We might as well–” “No, I get the why. I meant the what, like hobbies and shit.” 

She paused for a second, caught off guard, and shrugged. “I don’t know. Honestly, I just wanted to try and figure a few things out about you.” 

“Vicky, you’ve known me for all of about three weeks.” 

“Yeah, and in that time you haven’t reacted to my aura once.”

Alec clapped his hands to his face in mock shock. “Oh no. My magic flashbang field doesn’t work on somebody. I am going to completely ignore the fact that people often react vastly differently to master powers and assume something insidious is going on.” 

“Well, is there?” 

“Yes.” His hands dropped down and he looked her straight in the eyes. “I’m the devil. They got the names wrong. Alexandria’s my trusted colleague, hence the name of Alec, and the Siberian’s the runaway angel we’ve been tracking on a crime thriller from god. We got lost because of the Endbringers showing up, but we’re making our way back.” 

She might as well play along. “The Endbringers aren’t yours?” 

“I don’t know what you people come up with. For all I know, they’re made by Mars God and dropped here on accident.” 

“Then who’s Scion?” “An idiot with lasers coming out of his ass.” 

It took Victoria a moment to get over what seemed like blatant disrespect, but when she did she just laughed. “He’s–okay, he’s got weird priorities, but he’s not an idiot. He saves people.” 

“Fair.” He leaned forward. “I have to be honest with you.”

“What is it?” 

“I’m not actually the devil.” 

“Oh my god.” She made a show of scooting back in the chair. “And I was going to make a deal about kicking the Empire out and everything.”

“You might not have to wait long, have you seen them?” Alec waved a hand at something outside. “The Undersiders are grabbing shit off the Empire. The Undersiders. The ran away from a bank robbery Undersiders.” 

“Honestly, I don’t think we should lowball them. Like, you saw their bug cape at work, right?” 

“I was sitting next to you when she hit that place, of course.” He paused for a second. “Does she have a name yet?” 

“I don’t know. Skitter or something? PHO likes calling her Stinger, and…they haven’t actually attacked any heroes apart from that bank, so I don’t know, the Undersiders are weird.” 

“Yeah that sounds about right.” Another long sip of coffee followed, cut off by Alec giving the cup a look. “This is foul.” 

“It’s great.” 

“I can get you to at least two different places with better coffee.”

“You’re on.” 

It was fascinating how alive he was if she actually got him into a conversation. 

It still wasn’t that much, compared to the people she knew at Arcadia, but it was nice to have somebody that didn’t give a shit.

Chapter Text

Amy was positively singing with anxiety and fear. And Cherie was loving it. 

This was it. Her moment. 

And Amy would get her own thing too, but that wasn’t likely. Cherie could hear Brandish in her office from where they were in Amy’s living room, a low thrum of paranoia that was impressive even for a lawyer, and she had exactly no hopes for how this would go based on how much Amy complained about her mom. In fact, if Cherie didn’t know better, she’d almost say the woman was scared of Amy, something that Amy didn’t know, and she wouldn’t even have to do any work on the woman.

“Alright.” Amy’s nervous exhale brought Cherie’s attention back to actually being on her. “So, even if we’re wrong about…this, we’re still going to get an answer out of her, right?” 

“You are, not me. This one’s all you.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” She took a deep breath and left the papers on the table, getting up and walking towards Carol’s office. Cherie followed, almost out of sight, and stopped to lean against the side of the door frame as Amy went in. 

“Carol, can I ask you something?”

A bolt of concern jerked out from Carol before sinking into her background, running like a drone, and Cherie smiled.

“What is it, Amy?” 

“It’s about my fa--my family, before you adopted me.” 

The paranoia ratcheted up again. “What about them?” 

“Well, I-I was doing some research, and was wondering about them, and I thought they might have been capes since you never mentioned anything, and if they were normal people you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

The paranoia split, diverging into worry, anxiety, a split of recalcitrance and ambition. She was assessing risk. “They…were capes, yes.” 

“Was my father one?”

Everything got worse. “He was. We don’t think your mother was.” 

“Okay. That’s…what I thought.” Now she was definitely scared of Amy. “Was he a villain?” 

Carol didn’t reply right away, the ambition dropping into nothing as she did something Cherie assumed was working to backtrack, but the few seconds of silence was enough for Amy. 

“He was, yes.”

“That’s fucking it, isn’t it?” Amy didn’t snap, at least in her emotions, but her voice sounded like it, and Carol was suddenly filled with the faint but growing tinges of vindication. “Is that why you hate me? Because my father was a villain?”

“I don’t hate you.” The words were gritted, and they only sounded half true. Only were half true, to Cherie’s ears. 

“It-it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you only ever want me to heal, just make everything about New Wave look nicer, covering for Vicky, just being Panacea and not Amy! Like you can’t stand me, not even from my powers, just me!” 

“If you think you’re spending too much time at the hospital, we can look at your grades-“ “You didn’t even ask what Vicky did that would need to be covered for! How much more obvious does it have to be?”

It was taking an ironic amount of Cherie’s self control not to shred Carol’s self control, of which there was a shocking portion relative to the rest of her emotions, all of which seemed to be leaning toward the fight part of the fight or flight response. “I will talk to Victoria after this, when she gets back from her friends, if you want it that much. What do you want, Amy.”

“I want to know. Do you just hate me because my father was Marquis?”

Carol’s emotions stilled for a second, a noise that sounded like a slow exhale coming from inside, and Amy’s turned to a cocktail of loathing-logged certainty. “Do you hate me that-“

“I do not hate you!” “Then what else do you want to call it? You treat me worse than your fucking clients, run me into the ground when I just want to do something that might just be good for once in my life, and I can’t remember the last time you treated me like the daughter you parade me around as!” 

“This is not about your father!” 

“Why, you don’t want to remember the affair you had with him?” 

Carol went incandescent with sheer rage, a better than textbook example of capes going off. “I would never have even considered that with that monster! He was a murderer and a threat to everybody in the city, and it is better for everybody that he’s in the Birdcage! Do not dare to accuse me of anything that disgusting!” 

“And how much of a monster do you think I am?!” 

The seams of Carol’s restraint were slamming against her anger and vehemence so much Cherie legitimately thought they might snap, harsh ringing against her ears that was absolutely wonderful to hear. Come on, Amy, do something stupid. 

“Because I don’t know what else it could be!” God, Amy’s rage sounded wonderful. “Do you just want me in the Birdcage, out of your way? How much did you want to sign me over to the Protectorate when I got my powers so somebody else had me on their hands? Or was it better for your PR to have me as the healer, with all the fucking brain damage Victoria gives people?” 

“I was never going to send you away.” “Too scared to send your nightmare away?” “I am not scared of you!” 

“Bullshit!” Specks of depression crept through Amy’s anger, the bitter sound of defeatedness sinking through the walls. “You hate me, you hate my powers, you hate something about me that’s like my father, anything, you hate that I’m the daughter of a villain because you think that I’ll turn out like him!” 

She let out a single noise like a half-choked sob. “Does it not matter to you how much I try to be a hero just because you think I’ll be a villain in the end?” 

Amy’s feelings damn near broke as she started crying, loathing and depression clashing against the rage in a harsh bellow of sadness she’d only heard from the people that really got tortured. Carol was still sitting there, straining against herself to bury any instinct to snap and shoot back, the strings of control solidifying–wait.

Cherie’s smile wavered a little as she listened to Carol more closely. The paranoia was still there, the fear and anger all present and clear, but something was off about them. The paranoia was more cautious, but that risk assessment emotion was slowly slinking back to the surface, her self control slowly boldening as Amy cried. Anger faded into the back, gradually seeping into the quieter, more instinctual type, replaced by pensiveness and reflection, very close to the risk assessment before they solidified into one feeling.

Carol was feeling regret. 

Not properly selfless regret, more of the type that happened when you realized you shouldn’t have gone to that party or shouldn’t have said that, but it was there, mottled with specks of pity around the edges. Cherie tried to grab it, pull it back up without Carol noticing the strange shifts, but the woman’s own emotions bubbled and swirled for a moment before something else joined there. Resolve.

“Is that what you think?” 

And so the game was set. 

“What else could it be?” Amy choked the words out through her sobs. 

“Well, I made a mistake then.” Carol sighed. “I…you’re right, Amy. You remind me of him, and I’ve been blaming you for that. I shouldn’t be. Is there…is there any way, I can make it up to you?

“No.” The reply was a sniffle. 

“I thought not.” Her emotions relaxed, slightly, the paranoia a permanent thrum but the anger fading out as the damage control worked and Cherie’s changes slipped away in the natural current. “I think it’s time to calm down. We can talk about what you want to do with your powers, your time, all that later. Is that okay, can we wait a bit?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“It’s unfair to you to blame you for what your father did, especially with all the good that you’ve done. You’re a good person, and I’m sorry if I made you think you weren’t.”

She wasn’t. Paranoid, bouncing between keeping a person that terrified her on good terms and doing the hero thing of keeping everybody happy, but not sorry. Not that it mattered when this was the result. 

Cherie sighed to herself and left the emotions as they lay. There was nothing more she could do, especially when Amy knew she was a cape and Brandish probably knew master protocols like the back of her hand. Anything would set either of them off, because the course wasn’t reversing now. And she was so close, too. 

The rest of the conversation escaped her as she left, leaving a note for Amy about leaving from fear of the yelling. 

That could have gone better.

Chapter Text

“You have no idea how rough it is at home right now.” 

“I’m pretty familiar with sibling bullshit.” Alec tilted his phone. He wasn’t entirely sure if there was actually a picture in this image or if Lisa was being paranoid about cognitohazards again, but his nervous system was apparently fried enough that it would work. Yay for the help, family.

“Has your sister ever looked like she wanted to burn your mom alive?” 

He paused for a second. “Don’t know. They don’t really get along well.” 

Victoria gave him a confused look as she collapsed on the couch. “Did you avoid every argument they had?” 

“I’m pretty sure she never spent a minute in the same room as my mom longer than she had to.” He was assuming, at least. He was only partially sure of who his mom was out of the entirety of that cult-harem-church-thing. 

“That’s kind of sad.” He couldn’t see Victoria anymore, but he assumed she was making a sad face at him, as if that would accomplish anything that he didn’t already acknowledge. “Is your family dysfunctional or something? Like nobody gets along?”

“Yep.”

There was a sigh of realization from beside him. “Oh, that’s why you guys aren’t in school! You ran away!” She leaned in close enough that he could see her again past the screen of terrible PHO memes he’d switched over to. “Were they abusive? Do you need help dealing with them?”

He snorted at that. “It’s fine. Dad’s probably not even looking for us, and if he is, then we'll be out of his way before it becomes an issue. Don’t sweat it.” 

“Hey, Alec, have you–wha?”

“Hey Brian.” 

The doorway was silent, Brian probably frozen in it, and Victoria waved at him. “Hi! I’m Victoria. Do you live here with Alec?” 

“Kind of.” He rapped his knuckles on the door frame. “Alec, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yep.” He didn’t move. Brian sighed and continued. “Alec, why is Glory Girl on the couch?” 

“Because she wanted to hang out, but I didn’t feel like leaving.” 

“Okay then.” The fearless leader let out a deep breath, his voice obviously coming out between gritted teeth. “Just…I’ll let you do that, I guess.” 

“You’re the best.” 

Brian didn’t respond, just leaving, and Victoria looked around the loft. “Am I missing some context for this?” 

“Probably.” Alec put the phone down on the couch beside him, actually looking at Victoria now. “Do you have something?” 

She paused, expression dropping into something almost sad, and slumped a little further in the couch. “Not…not really, no. I just wasn’t sure where to go. Did Charlotte tell you what happened?” 

Something dropped about a third of an inch in his stomach, and he snuck a glance at the cabinet where he kept his bug-out bag. “Was it something she did?” 

“No, not at all. You guys have been great, it’s just…we were right.” 

“About Marquis?” 

“Yeah.” She sounded almost cold, trying to talk about it without thinking about the context. “He was Amy’s dad, and it turns out, my mom had hated her for it. She reminded her of him, and now it’s just…” 

An extended moment of silence, not enough to make Alec awkward, but enough to make him concerned before Victoria spoke again. “Nothing’s right. My mom doesn’t love my sister, my dad can’t decide who he wants to support or if he wants to be there again at all, Amy’s staying away from the hospital and won’t even speak to mom, and I don’t know if I can blame her, but it’s just all wrong. The only bright side is that Amy doesn’t blame herself any more, and my aunt’s with her on that.” 

Victoria sighed and leaned closer to Alec, and he only then noticed the missing presence in the back of his head from her aura not being there. “My friends are there, but they don’t get what’s going on. I can’t go and tell them Amy’s dad’s Brockton Bay's biggest hometown villain, but they’re going to start wondering why she’s not healing anymore once they notice, and the Wards have their own stuff going on that I can’t deal with.” 

He stayed silent, letting it sit for a few seconds before she finished the thought for him. “I just need something that stays how it’s supposed to right now?” 

“And I’m your first choice?” 

“You’re one of the only people I‘ve met since getting my powers that doesn’t care about them, and Charlotte’s the only person I trust to stick with Amy regardless. My family’s a mess that’s barely holding together, I don’t know how my friends will take it, and, well, you’re the only person I know that would stay normal right now.” 

Alec’s eyes widened a little. “I’m your baseline? Really? How bad is it in there?” 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure you’re either depressed or brain-damaged and I’m only confident that saying that won’t make you attack me because you show fewer emotional cues than Armsmaster when he’s tired–” “Excuse me, I show emotions.” “Barely, it’s all smugness and boredom, and boredom doesn’t count as one. You’re lazy and an asshole sometimes, but I respect how much you care about Charlotte, throwing stuff away to make sure she’s safe. You haven’t missed a chance to hang out and make sure she’s fine, I’ve noticed when you’re watching while pretending to be lazy. I trust you to be reliable, something that doesn’t shift that much.”

She met his gaze with actual genuine exhaustion, and he glanced at the bug-out bag cabinet one more time before letting out a combined exhale-groan and getting up. “Alright. You win. You want to co-op?” 

“I’m not the most familiar with games.” 

“I’ve got Medal of Honor, Overwatcher, Team Defense Fortress 2, War Pistons-” “I’ve played War Pistons with my cousin, sure.” “By your leave, player two.” 

Victoria rolled her eyes as she caught the controller he tossed at her. “Just start the game, Alec.” 

“Of course, my liege.” “Just because I have a tiara doesn’t mean shit. If you were making that joke to Regent, sure, but it just doesn’t work this way.” 

He didn’t even bother to not laugh at that. “That would just make him worse, have you seen those videos?” 

“He’s PHO’s favorite, and it pisses the Wards off. Did you know that Clockblocker wants to try and corner him just to have a wisecrack-off? His words, not mine.” 

Alec just shook his head in fake shame as he booted up the game, only to pause before he could select the couch co-op mode. “How’s Amy taking the Marquis thing?”

“I think she knew, and she had this moment talking about being glad it’s not her fault, but apart from that she’s still kind of mad at mom.” Victoria limply shrugged before looking down at the computer. “I mean, it’s good, but it’s weird to me. I always kind of assumed villains were just like that, but obviously not, since she’s one of the best heroes I know.” 

“Oh, the villainy gene.” “According to my mom, yeah, but I don’t really think so anymore. Like, Amy’s dad was the…second? Third worst villain on the east coast, and she’s, you know, her. Apparently, parents don’t actually mean all that much.”

“A-parent-ly.” “That was fucking bad, even for you.” 

Alec smirked as he sat back down, opening cutscene starting, and he tried to focus on the superhero next to him and the game. 

Even if she was just using him as a bit of peace and quiet, it had been a while since he’d felt this content.

Chapter Text

The loft didn’t really have a roof.

There were windows out to the side of the building, but no real way to stand on it, and it was in an area of town where there wouldn’t be too much to look at.

So Cherie didn’t go there.

The music in her earbuds was clear over the music of the city, faded and quiet that night. A few spikes of confidence and eagerness were scattered around, presumably capes looking for a fight, but for the most part the city was extraordinarily quiet. So she wasn’t disturbed as she walked toward the boardwalk.

No lights reflected out toward the bay, a rolling darkness occasionally broken by whitecaps catching the faintest reflection from one of the few skyscrapers, but the skyline was bright enough that she could see her path perfectly fine. It wasn’t shiny or tall, not like New York had been, but it wasn’t broken, and if she looked at it without thinking of where she was it was almost pretty to look at, especially with the last dregs of sunset behind it.

It was inspirational, almost, and she kept walking as her music kept playing. The mix wasn’t as poppy as usual, sadder and quieter yet still there, a theme she thought was fitting considering the time. Being caught by surprise wasn’t an issue, unless somebody with exactly no emotions or an immunity to being detected by powers snuck up on her, so the volume went up and she sunk into the sound as pavement transitioned to planks and fake wood.

The boardwalk was empty as she walked along, the only sounds the crashing waves and her steps on creaking wood. A few late night birds flew overhead, only audible by the faint flapping of their wings, and Cherie pulled her earbuds out as she slowed to a stop.

The music of the city was faint from this far out, but she could still pick it out. The smugness and fear of Lisa, running under a current of anxiety from digging through secrets again, the strange off-kilter nature of Rachel over in her shelter, Brian’s protectiveness next to somebody belligerent, mingled with enough affection that she assumed it was a family member, and the mixed depression, guilt, and faint resolve of Taylor off back in her home. The anger and excitement of the Empire soldiers, and the frenzied combined ecstasy and melancholy she’d figured out belonged to the Merchants, more bipolar than most capes she’d seen. All that, the highlights, the melody over the symphony of the city, she stopped and soaked it in.

And bristled when the sound of dulled calm and concern reached her.

It was a familiar dullness, not far off down the path, and she set off to find her damn brother.

He was calm and content, a thread of worry pinging in the back of his mind, but he was alone out there. She didn’t try poking him, but she knew he knew she was coming from the tiny portion of alarm, as alarmed as he could be at her appearance, when she entered his range. He still couldn’t do shit to her, but she couldn’t do much to him either, unfortunately.

She found him on a bench near where the boardwalk started to bleed into the docks, almost sitting on the beach, looking up at the skyline. A sketch pad sat in his hands, and he didn’t look away from the sky as he worked on it.

“You’re out late.”

“Felt like it.”

“You never feel like anything.”

“I did this time.”

“What are you worried about?” Cherie slid her MP3 back into her jacket pocket. “It’s not me, it’s none of your gang, there’s nothing going on in this city that I wouldn’t have at least a clue that you were getting a hint of, what is it?”

He paused for a second, emotions tumbling around like a badly mixed home-spliced tape, until they settled on anxiousness and something that felt an awful lot like sympathy, however deep inside him he was pulling it up from. “It’s us, actually. Kind of. I was talking with Victoria.”

“We were right about Marquis, I know. Apparently Amy still wants to be a hero and all that, which is kind of remarkable, considering how much of a house of cards New Wave is. Seriously, Brandish is so paranoid, I was half sure she was about to fight Amy.”

“Yeah, that’s my point. Amy’s dad was Marquis, who, like, Cherie, he was behind the Butcher and Dad. That’s it.”

“So? He was competition. If he was still out there, we’d be fighting Amy for space.”

“Space in what?”

Cherie faintly gestured around her. “Space, turf. For her, probably, if dad decided he wanted a healer. Or if I decided.”

“Because you want to, or if dad wants to?”

“Are you having rejection issues? I thought you didn’t like psychology.”

He set his pencil down on the sketch pad, eyes dropping from the skyline to somewhere on the ground.

“Amy’s dad was Marquis, and she still decided to do what she wanted. She grew past him. Yeah, she didn’t know, but she knows now, and she’s still probably going to.”

“He obviously did a bad job of raising her.”

No chuckle, but a little bit of amusement at that. She continued. “Dad’s not here, but we’re still doing our thing, and I don’t know why you haven’t just hijacked your entire team yet. Taylor, I get, she’d probably notice you’re doing something and sting you, but why? I mean, I’m trying to be subtle, and it’s a little tricky. Your power is the definition of subtle once you pull it up.”

“Because…that’s what dad did. That’s why he wanted me to use my powers, to be him without the frills. And…I don’t think I want that anymore.”

Cherie blinked at him. “You’re not feeling spiteful.”

“It’s not spite.” He looked up vaguely in her direction, not quite focused on her. “It’s…I like what I have here. The Undersiders are assholes or pathetic, but they’re almost on the level of actual people, nobody–they know I’m me, but nobody else does, it’s nice here. I just make somebody twitch, have Brian give me his pancakes without him realizing I tricked him into it, I’m fine with what I have.”

The silence settled for a second before Cherie replied. “Well, you’ve lost some ambition.”

“Not really. I enjoy this.”

“And you didn’t before.”

His gaze met hers.

“Did you?”

She didn’t respond right away. She wanted to hear this.

He could tell, apparently, and spoke. “I didn’t, that much. He didn’t make me do it, but he made me do it by the end. Hate’s a little too strong, I don’t know if I can feel anything that strongly about him, but I didn’t really want to do it. He made me stick through it as long as I did, up to when it wasn’t something I wanted to do anymore.”

“I didn’t.”

“Want to, or hate it?”

“Hate it. I never did. He never had to make me enjoy it.”

She’d caused fights, breakdowns, more than a few catastrophic breakups. And none of them had been something she didn’t want to do.

“I know what you’re going to say. I did grow up with you.”

“Grow up’s a loose term.” He shrugged, but it was weak. “We lived in the same place and used our powers on each other.”

“Don’t proselytize to me.”

“If you mean big speeches, no, that’s not me. But…” Their gazes broke, and he went back down towards the pad. “I didn’t like it, Cherie. And I can’t go back to fight him about it.”

The faintest gasp of something slipped past his emotions.

“Did you ever figure out who mom was?”

It was her turn to shrug. “I never really cared.”

The smirk he gave was nowhere near real, even for him. “I think I did. I’m pretty sure it was the first one I ever used my powers on.”

He paused. “I don’t remember her name.”

She hmmed. “Shame.”

“Yeah.” There was no sarcasm. A faint bitterness, running through and through. “It is.”

“I was serious when I said I enjoyed it all, you know.” She leaned forward a little, making sure he noticed her. “He never made me enjoy it. I didn’t do what you did, I couldn’t, but it was pretty close, even when he told me not to because I could live past his next swing of depression. I still think that pileup was the best stunt I’ve ever pulled, right down to the music timing, so before you start trying to be all heroic onto me because your best friend is, it’s not happening.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to be a hero, Cherie, I’m not stupid.” Alec sunk back into the bench. “I was just going to ask why you’re here.”

“Because I wanted to find you after you so rudely ran away, Jean-Paul.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because I can still salvage Amy.”

“If you wanted to, you could walk in and take her away with you right now. Why won’t you?”

“Because I’m better than him.”

An emotion rolled off of him. The same as the last time they’d had this discussion.

Disbelief. Not the absurd shocked kind, the quiet, pitying kind. Doubt, for another way. Not in distrust, but from another source. One aimed almost from somewhere else.

“And I don’t care what you think about that.”

She reached down for her MP3 and earbuds. “I’m going to go and borrow a few things from downtown tomorrow afternoon. Feel free to join me.” It was a plan she was going to do at some point to get some power exercise, but she could move it up to prove a little point.

Alec didn’t respond, just looking down filled with that same emotion and getting back to the sketch pad. Cherie pulled up her earbuds and turned back to go back to the loft, not mad, just irked at his doubt. He may have lost his ambition, but she could pull something together. The two of them were Heartbreaker’s most powerful children combined, their few weaknesses covering each other perfectly. If he just wanted to be the guy making people trip and twitch, keeping himself from getting touched, that was okay with her. She could still hit the goal.

She could be better than him.

Had to be.

Chapter Text

Taylor had expected a lot of things to happen in her attempt with the Undersiders. 

Running away from Cricket and Stormtiger was something that happened eventually if you ended up in Empire territory at a bad time of day. 

Running away from them while creating human-shaped clouds of bugs and holding a glaive nearly as tall as herself was not something entirely expected. 

Half of the bugs in one distraction swarm were blown apart from each other, a handful of them disintegrating without a physical sensation apart from a slight pressure and then nothingness, and she tuned out the hearing of the remainders before Cricket could do her disorientation trick. Their sight was a little scattered from being tossed through the air, so all she could see was the vague shapes of the two Empire capes hustling down the street in vaguely her direction, which, while the goal, was absolutely terrifying. 

She’d been practicing fighting with this weapon for all of two weeks, dueling the cape infamous for her weapon skill was out of the question unless she suddenly got really good at it, or could offload the disorientation effect. 

Another distraction was blown apart from the air pressure, half a block closer, and Taylor began pulling any bugs not in form away from them. Brian and Lisa had both made it clear a good chunk of their objective was not being noticed, and she was inclined to agree, if what she thought was happening was happening. 

Their boss had told them to lay off the Empire for all of a week, and now they were being told to start a fight between the Empire and the Merchants. It wasn’t enough evidence yet, but it was getting there, and she couldn’t really afford to question the likelihood of their boss being a gang war profiteer when she was running from two capes that would most certainly not hesitate to kill her. 

Her bugs picked up the sounds of two different cars coming from two different directions, one much nastier than the other, and Taylor’s eyes went wide as fumes of gasoline reached the bugs she’d slipped onto Brian and Rachel. They were supposed to be getting Mush’s attention, maybe Skidmark, not Squealer. She could outrun the dogs, and blinding her or making her twitch would just make everything get worse. 

Stormtiger was getting closer, boosting his run with his powers while Cricket lagged a little behind, throwing a kama through one of the distractions and catching it as it bounced off a building. It didn’t actually do anything, just squishing a few of the bugs inside, and she kept on running past it, yelling something up to Stormtiger that Taylor didn’t quite pick up.

“Shit.” They weren’t going to be distracted by those anymore. She needed another plan. They still hadn’t invested in radios because of Brian’s smoke, and Lisa was with Alec sneaking away whatever spare cash was still lying around the Empire armory they’d hit, so she had to get a message to them somehow. 

A cloud of bugs flew in front of where she was pretty sure Brian was as Taylor herself ducked into a side alley, letting the hearing kick back in despite the Cricket risk. Brian slowed, and Taylor formed the swarm into a generic bug shape, then a stick figure, only to make an X over the figure and reform it into a kama. 

“Got it. You have a plan?” 

A Y, then a vague cloud shape and two crossed sword-like things. Metal crunched from not far off, and she sprinted out of the alley, still holding the swords in place. 

“Lo–” Her bugs heard a cannon near Brian, and Rachel yelling a command at the dogs, cutting him off for a second. “Location?” 

A concussive blast struck the pavement behind Taylor, bits of rubble flying up past her face, and she turned around the corner onto a different street at the same time she tried something else. The bugs in front of Brian buzzed, pitches shifting, and she tried to push something through them as she ran. 

“Pull…bus…sig…nal…wait.” 

It sounded more like a shoddy ham radio signal, but it worked, and her bugs saw Brian nod. “Loop Squealer until your signal?” 

Another Y out of the swarm, and another nod from Brian. He turned to yell the message to Rachel, and Taylor dispersed the bugs. 

And immediately got grazed by a cloud of pressurized air. 

It blew straight through the air to the side of her head, faintly pressing against her mask, and she whirled around to see Stormtiger standing in the street, dirt swirling around him as the air at his hands shimmered. 

“You should have stopped a long while back.” He scoffed under the mask. “You should never have started.” 

Taylor didn’t flinch, her grip tightening on the shaft of the glaive as she looked around with her bugs. Cricket had to be nearby, but she had no idea where. Climbing up a building to get the drop on her, maybe? 

Time to stall and goad. “Poking the Empire?” She tilted her head, overlaying a little bit of the buzzing of her bugs into her voice to try and even it out. “You guys took so long to actually notice, I wasn’t sure if you would at all.” 

“You think you can fuck with the Empire and get away with it?” The air around Stormtiger started shimmering more noticeably. “Just because the PRT got lucky doesn’t mean we’re as stupid as the asians.” 

“We already have. We know the numbers of every shipment you’ve made in the city. And if it’s in the city, it’s in–” 

A flash of angular metal in the vision of one of her bugs was all the warning Taylor got before Cricket leapt off a fire escape and straight for her. 

She scrambled to the side, bringing the glaive up into a ready position as Cricket hit the ground in a roll and threw a kama at her. It bounced off the shaft of the glaive, clattering to the street, and Taylor swung out the blunt end at the fighter before it even hit the pavement. Cricket dodged back, swapping her remaining kama to the other hand and catching the shaft in the crook of her weapon. Taylor yanked it back, sending a handful of beetles at her hand, and they both broke away from each other without landing any hits. 

The bugs around Taylor felt the air shift, and she dodged back again, more feeling how the air blast tossed the bugs around than feeling it herself, catching a glimpse of Cricket’s kama floating up off the ground and back towards her. Another blast of air blew through the bugs and almost knocked her over, disturbing her balance for a second, and that was enough time for Cricket to run up and swing at her arm. The blade chipped through the chitin armor, and Taylor flipped the glaive’s shaft under one arm and swung it, nicking a thin line across Cricket’s shoulder as the villain yanked her kama back out and tore half the armor plate off with it. Taylor’s hand snapped down, bringing the blunt end of the glaive up into a quick jab into Cricket’s sternum that didn’t do anything but knock her back and ran toward Stormtiger, assembling a distraction in front of her as Stormtiger raised his hands, shimmering with pressurized air. 

Her bugs felt the shift in air faster than she did, the blast approaching in not quite slow motion, and she tried to dodge as fast as she could. It didn’t entirely work, projectiles detonating next to her, knocking her down to the road and nearly breaking the glaive from her grip. Another blast struck her right in the chest, blowing most of the chitin armor off her costume and sending her flying into the wall of a building on the edge of the street. Her yell of pain came out as more of a buzz, echoed through all her bugs, and she gingerly reached toward her chest, trying to judge if her ribs were broken. 

Cricket blew through a denser patch of bugs, an air distortion boosting her upwards, and Taylor grimaced in pain as she rolled out of the landing zone and thrusted the glaive upwards. The glaive pierced through her forearm, clean through the gap between bones, and Cricket just growled through her electrolarynx before everything went woozy for Taylor. Her balance faltered, the world spinning around her as something dull throbbed in her ears, and she tried to get through to her bugs only for the sound to get worse before she slammed the feedback shut. 

The kama swung again, knocking the glaive from her hand, and another blast knocked her back into the wall. Cricket backhanded her mask before just punching her in the stomach, dropping her to the floor again, and she scoffed. 

“Is that all you got? Pathetic.” Another kick to the ribs forced out another noise of pain, one that Taylor barely heard herself make over the ringing in her ears. “More fight than the rest of your gang, but still not enough. Nowhere near enough for me, and not enough for Alabaster, not enough for Hookwolf, for any of us. So pick your–” 

A bug flew down her throat. 

Cricket stumbled back, choking, and Taylor grabbed the glaive up off the ground and took off running as fast as she could. Stormtiger raised his hand, aiming, only to lower them at the last second as a familiar van came screaming around the corner, the sound of something very loud and angrily yelling trailing close behind it. 

Alec threw the door open before the van could properly stop, yelling to Taylor. “Buggy! Get in!” 

Taylor booked it in, crashing onto the floor of the still-moving van with a thump and another yell of pain, and flinched as Alec slammed the door shut behind her and Lisa began poking her. 

“Cracked ribs, severe bruising all over, you’re lucky that she didn't hit you again or that Stormtiger didn’t blast you into a corner–what were you thinking?” She went to go for Taylor’s costume’s zipper, but got slapped away. “You could have died! We’re escape, not fighters!” 

“I didn’t–” Taylor paused. Brian and Rachel were standing by the rear doors. “Who’s driving?” 

“It’s me!” Alec’s sister spoke up from the front. “They let me do getaway!” 

Taylor ignored Brian’s muttered disagreement as an idea struck her. “You’re an emotional manipulator, right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Get out, I’m driving. You’re going to keep everybody else distracted while we leave.” 

“Finally, I get to do something!” 

“Just make sure they don’t really notice.”

Chapter Text

Colin wasn’t even going to ask if she would react well to anger. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

“It was supposed to be Rune against Mush, or Stormtiger! And you didn’t have anything to say about the warehouse!” 

Apparently, the bug cape reacted with more anger. He took a deep breath in and out, looking around the empty corner of the Boat Graveyard that they were using as a contact point. “Assuming you mean the Undersiders robbing the shipping hub, that was something you have under control as a member. Provoking a citywide fight between the Merchants and Empire that brought out not just Cricket and Stormtiger, but Krieg and Alabaster against the entirety of the Merchants was a poor decision.” 

“Like I said, that wasn’t the goal. We were supposed to be dealing with a few of them at most, but it escalated.” The words came out through a tense jaw, it sounded like. “And I think that’s what our boss wanted.” 

“You think the boss of the Undersiders is trying to provoke a gang war?” 

“I can’t say anything for sure, but I’m pretty certain.” Her posture relaxed a little, and he canceled the boot process of her combat algorithm. “We were getting paid for scouting out Empire houses, and we stole manifests and maps from the warehouse. The boss wanted information about their shipments, and he was fine with us taking apart the ABB after they fell apart, but didn’t let us hold anything.” 

“That could just be seen as being cautious. Without the ABB, anybody could be seen as wanting to stay out of the Empire’s way.” 

She didn’t respond for a few seconds, giving Colin the impression she was glaring at him behind her mask, and he held back a sigh. “The PRT’s hands are tied with bureaucracy. I can't tell you about incoming operations, but I do thank you for your help.” 

“We broke the boss’s plan.” 

“If that’s true, why wouldn’t the moles you claim are there have broken out Lung?” 

“Because I’m pretty sure we work for Coil.” 

Colin glanced at the corner of his visor, sending out a sonar ping to confirm they were alone. “Is that through the process of elimination, or a random guess?” 

“Elimination.” She shifted around, the buzzing of her bugs intensifying a little in a way that he wouldn’t have noticed without the enhanced microphones in his suit. “Somebody kidnapped the Mayor’s niece and hasn’t asked for ransom. Coil’s mercenaries have been slowly seeping into the old ABB territory, territory the Undersiders were paid to take out safehouses in.” 

“Do you think the Mayor’s niece is a parahuman?” 

“Why else would she have been kidnapped? There hasn’t been any ransom. Then the Undersiders start riling up the Empire, capping it off with dragging them into a large scale fight with the Merchants that nobody would have seen them in because they ran before the fight even really started.” 

“Plausible, but something you could write off as the Undersiders being a bunch of teenagers. Which you all are.” 

“Their route the night of the Lung fight would have dragged them right along the edge of Empire territory.” 

Her explanation clicked in his head, and he pulled up a notes program in his visor, setting it to record. “So your theory is the boss of the Undersiders, who is presumably Coil, was attempting to provoke a gang war between the ABB and Empire to strengthen his own position both in the city and in the other area, but your actions of taking down the ABB capes shot that plan down. He kidnapped the Alcott daughter, who you claim is a parahuman based on the lack of any activity regarding her or attempts to ransom her, also presumably to bolster his own strength, and is now attempting to draw the Empire into a fight with the Merchants to either make the PRT look incompetent enough that his own agents are able to take control, or have them eliminate the Merchants, drag the Protectorate down on them, and then take control of the rest of the city without any challenge.” 

“Probably the first one. Otherwise, he wouldn’t need the Undersiders as a front.” 

He nodded. “I can see the logic. None of this is confirmable, but leads are useful. Do you have anything actually verified?” 

She shook her head. “That’s just my guesses, but it makes sense. Do you want something else?”

“No, that’s good.” He sent the notes back to his desktop and drew himself up to his full height, which wasn’t actually that much taller than her, for some reason. “But don’t do what you did today again. If somebody dies because of the Undersiders, I can’t help you.”

“I know, I know.” The words were annoyed, but her tone sounded more exhausted. Tired. 

He suppressed a wince. This girl was going to get herself killed, and she still didn’t trust him enough to actually believe him. This was turning into an absolute mess, even if it had barely been under control before. 

She was already turning to leave, back stiff and arms limp, a clear picture of despondent yet annoyed in her posture, and he silently damned himself for deciding on this in the first place. 

“I don’t disagree with you.”

She stopped mid-step, and he kept speaking. “The Empire is full of scumbags, and the Merchants are close in a different way. The Protectorate was trying to keep a delicate balance while the ABB existed, and while they’re gone, it will still take time to fully spin back up. Your efforts may very well take out the entire rest of Brockton Bay’s criminal world, but you still want to be a hero, correct?”

A slow, cautious nod, but still a nod from her.

“You need to be careful. Eating off fingers with bugs and swinging to sever limbs aren’t tactics that are going to win you public points. It might seem simple now, but if you want to be a hero later, you’ll need to be careful. And that goes for this entire plan.” He waved a hand up and around, trying to emphasize his point. “It’s certainly useful and important, but it’s not worth your life. The Undersiders, and Coil, are threats, but ultimately they’re not going to destroy the city like the Empire could. Dealing with them is important, but it’s not necessary.”

“Do you not trust me?” 

She wasn’t even mad. Just wounded. 

“I do. I just don’t want to see a new hero die.”

The only sound was the buzzing of her bugs for a few seconds before she spoke again.

“Do you have a name suggestion?”

He let out an exhale that was almost like a laugh at that. She sounded like a middle schooler trying to edit a report. “To be honest, I quite like Stinger. Far better than Skitter, or the other names PHO gave you. It even tracks with the glaive. Good choice on that, by the way. Versatile weapon.”

“Thanks. I stole it from the ABB.” 

“Assault has an entire Hookwolf leg in his house. The director doesn’t know about it.”

That got the barest dregs of a laugh out of her, only for a few seconds, but it was a sign of life that relieved him. Good to know that one still worked. 

“If you give me a contact route, I can send you advice on how to use it.” He preened a little, completely unashamed. “Polearms are a specialty of mine.”

“I could guess.” She sighed, a noise not accompanied by bugs, and looked up at him. “I’ll try and get them to dial it back.”

“Good. You’ve got potential, and it would be a shame to waste it.”

Another nod, firmer, and her posture lightened a little. “Oh, wait did you want to—“

“Know how you escaped? I have my own theories, don’t worry. Good luck.”

She didn’t nod again, but whispered a thank you and ran off. He smiled.

That girl would most definitely be a good hero.

As soon as he figured out what the hell the Undersiders did with their escape trick. 

They’d just used a damn van this time, how did they miss that?

Chapter Text

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “You could be up to something behind my back.” 

That just made Victoria even more confused. “I’m a superhero, nearly everything I do in costume ends up online somehow. What could I be doing behind your back?” 

“Protection rackets. Bodyguarding scams with staged threats. Any number of things in this city, frankly.” 

“And you think I’m going to go and get Alec involved?” 

“Partially. Though I’m mostly just messing with you right now. How’s Amy doing, by the way?” 

A flash of guilt hit her for a second, the reminder that she hadn’t been there for that talk, but she pushed past it. “Amy’s been doing better, actually. She’d probably like it if you went and hung out. She just needs some support that’s not from my parents.” 

Charlotte hmmed. “I’ll drop by. But only if you drop Alec in the bay and record it.” 

“What? No. Why would I do that?”

“It would be funny.” She smirked. “I’ll pop by Amy later, if you were worried I wouldn’t actually go unless you did that. It’s nice to see you again, Victoria. I was starting to wonder if you two had gone and run away after that little thing.” 

“You mean you couldn’t see me in the sky?” Victoria gasped in fake shock. “How could you have survived without my comforting presence?” 

“You’re a giant spotlight across all of Brockton, I couldn’t miss you if I tried.” She turned around and swung a backhand at the door to the warehouse-thing, right as Alec walked through, only to completely miss him with a random twitch away at the last second. Charlotte shot him an annoyed glare, but he ignored it, and she stumbled over the doorstep as she went back inside. 

“How much was she annoying you?” 

“Not at all, it was nice to talk to her again.” Victoria gave the warehouse-loft-whatever it was one more look before turning back to Alec. “Did you guys get in a fight or something?” 

“No, she’s always like that. We just had a disagreement where only one of us thinks it was a disagreement.” He sighed. “Whatever. You didn’t actually tell me where we’re going, you know.” 

“We?” 

“You. Whichever it is, if you just want to gloat to me about your cool hangout spot.” 

Victoria couldn’t quite match Alec’s manic cackle, but she could give him a smug laugh as she held her arms out. “You'll see. Now come on, let’s get going.” 

He just stared at her. “Are you trying to give me directions? I’m not Shadow Stalker, I can’t phase through walls. Pointing back at the loft just makes me want to go back to sleep.” 

She rolled her eyes and gestured to herself. “No, get in.” 

“I’m not seeing a car here.” “I mean me. I’m flying you there.” 

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Alec made his smirk, and she slapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. Charlotte wanted me to drop you in the bay, and I wasn’t going to, but don’t make me reconsider.” 

His smirk dropped a little, but not enough to be gone, and Victoria realized that him and Charlotte had a very similar sort of quiet smile as he spoke. “Why are you blaming me for your choices?” 

“Because they’re decisions that you could help change.”

“You expect me to simply leave opportunities like that on the ground?” She stretched her arms out for him, and he collapsed into her reach, princess carry style, looking her right in the eyes.

“But there’s so many jokes I could make.”

“You’re literally lying in my arms like a damsel in distress.” “I vastly prefer the term prince in peril.” 

She took off, and his expression immediately changed to fear, both arms wrapping around her neck. “Oh, Glory Girl, please don’t let me fall! I have so little to live for! My friends will all be so ecstatic that I’m dead!” 

“Okay, but do you really want me to drop you or not? Because you’re holding on tighter than Amy does.” 

“Yeah, don’t actually drop me. This is legitimately a little terrifying.” 

“You’ll get used to it next time.”

“You’re going to kidnap me somewhere again?” 

“Considering I can’t find you at any schools, yes, unless you want me to keep making your roommate mad.” 

“He’ll be perfectly fine, he’s used to me cackling at comp matches by now. You yelling at your controller should be tame in comparison.” 

“It would be rude to keep disturbing people like that. Especially with summer break coming up, and my college classes don’t start for a month or so.”

“Really, spending your summer with me? I thought you wanted to do more research.” 

“I mean, you weren’t a bad partner.” She adjusted him in her arms. “And you’re fun to do stuff with. A lot of my friends from school will be going on vacation anyway, and I think it couldn’t hurt for us to hang out more.”

He was quiet for a minute, then gave her a look like her aura was suddenly outputting disgust. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head in your last fight?” 

“It’s called wanting to spend more time with your new friend.”

“I’m just making sure you haven’t been mastered.” “Is the fact I’m only willing to cover half your bill enough proof for you?”

“Yeah, that’s fair–” He cut himself off as he saw where Victoria was descending down to. 

“What?” 

Now he genuinely looked a little betrayed. “Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why here?” 

“But I thought you’d like it.” She landed on the sidewalk. “It seemed up your alley.” 

He looked at the arcade, then back to her, then at the arcade and her again.  

“Do you think I’m Leet or something?” 

“You know, I hadn’t seen it before…” 

He literally screeched in pain and fell to his knees, reaching for the sky. “My reputation!” 

“You don’t have any change, do you.” “Yes, but my image! It’s gone!” 

She didn’t actually think he was Leet. 

But it was nice, that what he was most worried about was keeping up a terrible joke. And not her imminent attempts to kick his ass at air hockey.

Chapter Text

It was fortunate Cherie’s range was pretty big, because otherwise the emotions coming off of Amy would have hit her like a truck the second she knocked on the door. 

It wasn’t depression and loathing anymore, or at least not entirely aimed at herself. It was more of a tumultuous seething, mixed with vindication, none of it really internalized but that dimension could get muddled when her emotions were so vague. 

She adjusted the jacket, glanced in the mirror to make sure her hair was good, and then decided that making Amy go answer the door would annoy her and wouldn’t be as big to her. There was a tree by the Dallon house, though, and since she wanted to avoid who she was pretty sure was Flashbang sitting in the living room sounding like apathetic depression, she just had to check and make sure-yes, that was by Amy’s room. 

Five minutes later, Cherie was shimmying along a branch, all four limbs wrapped tight around it and praying that she didn’t fall. 

“Charlotte?” 

Oh, she was leaning out the window. 

“Uh, hi Amy.” 

“What are you doing?” 

She shuffled around as much as she risked, eyes widening as a branch snapped off in her grip. “Trying to say hi to you, since I haven’t seen you in a whi-WHILE help.” 

Amy sighed, looked around, and met Cherie’s eyes. “Don’t say a word.” 

Cherie gave her a confused work as Amy put her hand on a branch near her window, but her wide eyes barely registered a few branches from the top of the tree slowly shrinking as the one she was holding stretched out to the windowsill and thickened. Amy didn’t say anything, and Cherie scrambled along the thing as fast as she could and nearly fell into Amy’s room. 

“Don’t say–” “I wasn’t going to. I thought you were just a healer?” 

That provoked more exhaustion than anger, different from the last time. “I can use my powers to heal, but it’s not just that. I’m not giving you any boosts, before you ask.” 

“Wasn’t going to.” Cherie brushed the bits of bark and dirt off her jacket and sat down in a chair right by the window, trying to recover her composure. “Did you think I would?” 

Amy shrugged. “I’ve known people that were only here for a prettier face.” 

“Well that’s shitty.” She leaned back in the chair. “Was that common?” 

“Not really, but it happened.” Her shrug only half matched the slow annoyance Amy was feeling. “I couldn’t actually before, Carol didn’t let me do anything that wasn’t healing, but now she’s more willing to just…let me do stuff. I could probably give people touch-ups now, but I don’t know if I want to. It feels trivial.” 

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Cherie pulled another piece of bark out of her hair and tossed it back out the window. “I know I don’t want to just sell my powers.” 

“What do your powers even do, anyway?” Amy leaned forward. “I have a hunch your brother's one too, but I can’t tell. Is it something master-related?”

 “What makes you say that?” 

“You haven’t reacted to my sister’s aura apart from wincing that one time. Are you like Gallant?” 

She blinked at her. “I’m not a tinker.” 

“It’s a smokescreen. He’s an empath with emotion blasts.” 

“Emotion blasts?” 

“Yes…” Amy trailed off as Cherie fumbled for her MP3 out of her pocket, stabbing the buttons as fast as she could. “What are you doing?” 

She looked Amy in the eyes. “He’s a master blaster.” 

Amy looked at her with utter blankness.

Cherie hit the play button. 

The combination of a song being actually relevant for once, the sound of Amy’s exasperation, and the actual sound of emotional pain that she made as she recognized the sound made it completely worth it for Cherie. She let out a cackle and yanked the device away before Amy could switch it off, smiling through the music. “You like?” 

“Turn off the Stevie Wonder, please! Vicky used to play that all the time when she was dating him, I had to hear it on loop for a solid hour once. No more.”  

Cherie gave her an exaggerated frown and turned the music off, stowing her MP3 back in her pocket. “You don’t appreciate my humor. And don’t worry or anything, I didn’t use my power on you to like, become friends or mess with Carol.” 

Amy stuck her hand out. “Prove it.” 

She sighed goodnaturedly and put her hand in Amy’s. “Is this a lie detector thing?” 

“Yes.” 

“Alright. I did not use my powers to become friends with you or to make your conversation with Carol go any worse than it would have otherwise.” 

Amy pulled her hand back, absolutely singing relief. “Thank you. Really, I…I was worried.” 

“Don’t be. My powers are…they’re not like that. It’s amplification, really, I can make people act on their terrible ideas that they would shut down. The tinkers stole ‘impulse amplification’ from everybody else, but that’s a pretty solid idea of how my powers work.” The risk of using her actual powers on Amy to make her believe her was not worth it right then, but she already had a plan to make her believe her if she had to test her powers on somebody else. This wasn’t even the first time she’d had to make that excuse, but it was the first where she’d actually be seeing the person she was tricking again. 

“How often have you cheated people out of giving you free stuff with it?” “Not that often. You’d be surprised by how greedy people actually are.” 

“Oh, thank god, I’d have to arrest you for assault with a parahuman power otherwise.” 

Cherie just flattened her expression out until Amy snickered and looked away. “Yeah, I can’t judge you for that. I know how powers work.” She sighed. “It’s…it’s good to know you’re not just using me. You know that there’s some theories about parahumans attracting each other?”  

“Oh, the coronas are magnetic now.” 

“They’re not. I can barely tell how they work, or even if they do, but they definitely aren’t magnetic. That would legitimately screw up a lot of other things in the body, and I have a lot of weird trouble with radiation. Need to flush out all the irradiated cells, it’s a whole procedure.” 

Cherie nodded. “I have no medical knowledge at all.” 

“Do you have any alcohol?” 

“I might know where we can get some.”  “I can make some.” 

Oh, perfect. Alcohol was wonderful for poorly timed confessions.

Chapter Text

“Char, what are you doing asleep in this restaurant?” 

Cherie blinked, pulled herself up off the booth’s bench, and almost flinched at the sight of her dead void of a brother next to the giant spotlight of Victoria. Contrast hurt her ears.

“Amy’s taking a mental health day.” 

Victoria tilted her head in confusion. “Arcadia doesn’t give mental health days this close to summer break, though, does it?” 

“I don’t even go there–”  “Yeah.” 

Amy groggily raised her head off the table where she had been actually sleeping, instead of Cherie’s just wanting to recover from the alcohol headache. “I was going to just stew in my room, maybe try and make a cactus or something, but then Charlotte showed up, so I decided to try and get drunk together.”

Alec and Victoria blinked in sync before the latter crossed her arms. “Have you had a stash you’ve been holding out on me and everybody at school? Really?”

Amy waved her away. “No, I don't even know where Mark and Carol keep the alcohol. I tried for the uh, apple trick, but apparently my liver’s tougher than I thought. You remember the nightshade test? It’s that again.” 

Victoria nodded like she was getting a joke Cherie had no context for. “Got it. At least you won’t be getting alcohol poisoning in the future.” 

“I won’t, but she had a little, so we went out to eat because empty stomachs. Unfortunately, I’m tired, and she’s got a headache from the empty stomach thing.” 

“You let my sister make a rookie mistake like that?” Alec made an offended face at her, and it lasted for all of three seconds before he slumped into the seat opposite Amy and next to Cherie, lounging back obnoxiously. “Eh, whatever. Did you guys order anything yet?” 

“Nope.” Cherie straightened her jacket, yanking it back into place so that the zippers were actually facing inwards. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I invited Alec out to the arcade, and now we’re getting an early dinner.”

Cherie shot her brother a disappointed look over the sound of sheer emotional suffering from the other side of the table. He seemed slightly pained at the mention of the arcade. Must have been embarrassed or something, she’d need to get the details later..

She turned her gaze back to Victoria. “Why him?”

“What do you mean?” 

Amy slammed her head back into the table with pain in both senses of hearing, Victoria gaped, and Cherie tried to ignore the sound of the happiness and friendship Victoria was feeling at her brother. Honestly, her team might begrudgingly appreciate his presence, but she actually liked him as a friend, it was disgusting. And getting in the way of the plan a little, but he at least seemed a little happier about it too. 

Hmm. She didn’t really want him in the way of that disaster. Even more work to do, it seemed. 

“Charlotte?” “Yes, Amy?” “Please make me jump off a cliff.” 

She reached over to pat Amy’s hand, and Victoria leaned in for a hug that Amy did not appreciate in the intended way. “Amy, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you/”

“Vicky, please, I’m tired and just want to eat something.“ “Message received. I’ll let you do your thing.” Victoria lifted off Amy with a little bit of flight, pulled Alec away from squeezing the ketchup packets until they popped, and flew off to several booths down and out of earshot and sight.. 

Amy halfheartedly rolled her eyes, the disgust in them only noticeable if you were looking for it. “Vicky. Why.”

“Your sister’s just worried about you.” Cherie idly grabbed the attention of a waiter via a paranoia spike that she immediately flattened out, trying to be subtle about it. “I’ll take a Pepsi.”

“Same here.” She groaned as the waiter left. “Why can’t I go back to not knowing shit?”

“Because it hurt you worse when you were all wondering.” 

“Yeah, fair enough.” Amy let out another, smaller sigh. “Charlotte?”

“Yeah?”

“Can your…” Her voice dropped, much quieter. “Can you see those impulses you make worse?”

“Are you worried about blackmail, or some psychological disorder?”

“I’m perfectly healthy.” She sighed. “Can you see them?”

“Amy, what is it?”

A slow shake of the head, confirming what Cherie already knew from the sudden emotional turmoil. “Okay, I was just…worried. About the thing, with my dad. I’m not a bad person for thinking things, right? Even if they’re not at the front of my mind?”

“Nah, you’re not.” She kept looking at her, unnerved and on edge, and Cherie continued. “I only get vague impressions, it’s not like a precision tool, but all I’m seeing is something involving confession. No murders or ribcage inversions in there, and I can’t see anything deeper than that. It’s always the things they don’t want to do.”

Amy’s relief came out at the same time as her sigh, the sounds blending together, and she didn’t quite smile but her body lightened a little. “Okay. Cool. I—I don’t want to tell you, obviously, but thank you.”

“I get it.” She didn’t need to be told at this point, anyway. She knew all she needed to. “You’re good. In both ways.”

Cherie leaned back in her seat as her drink arrived, slowly slurping it up as Amy looked for another topic to complain about. 

It would be much easier to hear if Victoria wasn’t enjoying Alec’s presence in the next booth over, somehow.

Really, this should have been going worse for them.

Chapter Text

Taylor was normally slightly jumpy around the Undersiders, but this was a new level. 

Rachel had actually shoved one of the puppies they’d pulled from an Empire house into her arms to cheer her up.

Unsure of why Taylor’s sad, but knows it’s not deserved. 

Lisa smacked her power back down as she approached Taylor. She was going to need it later, if Taylor was going to be as cagey as she usually was. 

“Taylor?”

Three separate spiders were dropped via beetles into hair, was semi-consciously moving them around out of paranoia, paranoia justified, justified due to knowledge where security is uncertain, and the spiders were gone in a fit of panicked flailing.

“Oh god, Lisa, I’m sorry.” Taylor spun around and looked her over, inspecting the damage. “I was just a little on edge, and–”

“Taylor, I can tell. We all can. Why do you think Rachel gave you that puppy?” 

“I…thought she didn’t want it?” 

“Why would Rachel not want a dog?” Taylor weakly shrugged in response, and Lisa shook her head. “That’s not my point. You are stressed, and I can’t tell why, so you’re going to explain before you twitch on our next job and that glaive stabs Assault or something.” 

She sighed, paused for a second to check her bugs for watchers, and gestured for Lisa to follow, leading her to her room and checking around again before opening the door. Lisa stepped inside, not finding anything on first glance, and she turned to face Taylor as she shut the door. 

“Do you have some sort of secret conspiracy you’re running?” 

Taylor flinched in a way her power didn’t even feel like calling out, and she shook her head. “No-I mean, I’m not running a conspiracy. But, there’s something else, so…” 

A spider dropped a string of silk in her hand from the ceiling, and Taylor took a deep breath before pulling on it. 

A corkboard on wheels rolled out from behind a curtain of the same color as the wall.

“I think we’re working for Coil.” 

Lisa blinked. “Okay?”

Taylor let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. You didn’t shoot me.”

“Why would I–” Thinks you work directly for Coil. “I don’t work for that fucking snake.” 

“So we don’t work for Coil?” 

“Let me hear your evidence.” 

“Okay.” Taylor let out another deep breath and pointed at the first thing on the board, a map of the city with holes chewed through it. “The first clue, at least from my angle, is our path. Before the ABB got their asses kicked, who did you guys mostly hit?” 

“The ABB.” 

“But where did you guys escape to?” 

“We always bounced along the edges of the Empire.” 

“But why?” 

“The boss told us to, because–” Was trying to provoke tensions between gangs. “Oh, that rat fuck.” 

“Yeah, exactly. These, uh, chew marks are the paths you traveled, or at least were spotted on, and just about all of them lead from one gang’s territory through another instead of just booking it to the boardwalk or into the Protectorate areas.” She moved her hand over to the next thing on the board, a bunch of newspaper clippings. “We didn’t run through gang turf on the bank thing, but at that point we were running for our lives. We were underprepared for that.” 

“We were ready for what it was supposed to be.” 

“Lunch break at the Wards school. With heroes in the area.” 

Lisa opened her mouth to reply, but shut it once she saw the other papers on there. 

“You think we were a smokescreen?” 

“He had no way of knowing if I was good or not. I could have concussed Lung and got lucky, my range could be nothing, and he wanted my debut to be robbing a bank and fighting the Wards?” 

Lisa held her tongue on saying that he probably could have actually known, letting Taylor continue. “It was risky, sending me out without verifying my power. Especially fighting the Wards. But if he did that, then he probably wouldn’t be caring about the bank robbery itself. What was the profit share on that?” 

“We kept most of it.” 

“If it were an actual bank robbery, wouldn’t he have kept most of it?” 

“You are really focused on this, aren’t you?”

Taylor stopped and froze, trying to get out a response, and Lisa laughed. “Next you’re gonna say that the bank job was a cover for the kidnapping of Dinah Alcott, who’s a parahuman that Coil wanted in his pocket.” 

“The bank job was a cover for–oh.” 

Taylor’s shoulders literally sank, and Lisa patted her on the shoulder. “Sorry, I just really wanted to. But what’s your evidence for it being Coil and not some random benefactor?” 

“He’s paying us a lot, but not actually taking all that much in profit, implying that he already has a lot of cash, and we think that Coil’s loaded. His mercenaries pop up in the cracks in gang territory, but we’ve never actually fought them even though they do a lot of the same stuff we do. Also, obviously, they do a lot of the same tricks that we do, hit and runs and such, really similar. Our boss isn’t ABB, because no new force popped up to replace them, they’re not Empire unless Hookwolf’s been running an entire side operation, but I only think so, I’m not sure.” 

“You’re right.” 

Dead silence kicked in, even the bugs freezing up, and Lisa continued as Taylor stared at her wide-eyed. “Coil recruited me at gunpoint. I don’t want to be here. I want to try and yank his plan out from under him, all of it, and he’s been playing the Undersiders to try and control the city.” 

Taylor blinked. 

Lisa smiled. “Good work, Bug. You’re officially smarter than Brian.” 

“We need to tell the others, this is huge–” 

They both froze as Taylor was cut off. 

A siren was ringing in the distance.

She turned to look at the door, then back to Lisa.

“I need to borrow your phone.”

“This is a hell of a time.” 

“I know. Go get your costume.” 

Lisa tossed the cell phone to her and sprinted out of the room, leaving the door half-open as Taylor punched a number in. 

“Brockton Bay Dockworker’s–” 

“Kurt, I need to talk to my dad.”

“Taylor, what the hell are you doing?”

“Get me to my dad.” 

“Hurry. Please.” 

The line clicked to static for a second, before another voice came back on, the sound of movement in the background. 

“I’m sorry, but there’s an Endbringer coming in, if this is a negotiation then I can’t take–”

“Dad, it’s me.”

“Taylor?” Most of the movement stopped. “What shelter are you going to?” 

“I…” 

She took a deep breath. “I’m not going to a shelter, Dad.” 

“You can volunteer afterwards!” The desperation in his voice was so legitimate to her, it hurt that it had taken so long. “Taylor—“

“I’m going now, Dad.” 

He didn’t respond. 

“I’m going now.” 

“Taylor, please tell me this is some fucked-up joke.” 

“It’s not. I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything! There’s nothing wrong with going to the shelters!”

“I’m a cape, Dad. I have to.”

“Can you fight an Endbringer? Because if not, why risk it?”

She chewed the inside of her lip. “I’m the bug cape with the Undersiders.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m a hero, I swear, it’s just a little complicated. I’m a hero.” 

“Just because you're a hero doesn’t mean that you have to–” He cut himself off. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” 

“I’m not a fighter. I have bugs. Search and rescue, probably. I need to go, Dad. I’m a hero, I want to be, and I can’t just let people die. There’s only so much I can do, and I want to do that much.” 

He didn’t have a reply to that one. 

“I’ll stay clear of whichever one shows up. I swear.” 

“It’s my fault you didn’t tell me, isn’t it?” 

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah.” 

“Fuck.” He exhaled slowly, the sound backed by the rain starting to hit the windows. “Leviathan. FUCK. Taylor, please. Even if you have to do this, if you have to, please don’t die. It doesn’t have to be for me, if that’s how we got here, but please don’t die. Do it for yourself, if that's what you need.” 

“I’ll stay alive. We’ll…we’ll talk about this after.” 

“Taylor…”

“I’ll see you once I’m out, Dad. Love you.” 

She ended the call as Lisa poked back through the door, already in costume, and tossed the phone back to its original owner. 

“Where’s my costume?” 

Lisa made a sad face at her. “We could just run.” 

“Did I leave it in here?” 

A sigh.

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

Any complaints Alec had about his game closing out were overridden by what popped up on the screen afterwards. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Emergency alerts sucked.

He dropped the controller and looked around, immediately met with a look of legitimate terror on Cherie’s face. She was frozen, the sound of the sirens distant but loud in the loft, and he immediately wrote her off as just running to the shelter. 

Another quick glance around the room showed Rachel staring at Brutus with an expression on her face that looked vaguely like sadness, and Brian looking out the window in fear, mumbling something under his breath. 

He was going to be useless. Great. 

Why had they agreed to this, to fight these things? None of them had actual Endbringer-fighting powers. He could maybe do search and rescue, Lisa could use her power and figure out whatever, but Taylor was useless, Rachel was useless, Brian was useless, they were all fucked. 

But Victoria wasn’t. She’d be duking it the hell out with the lizard, pushing her kinda-Alexandria package to the max. 

He was pretty far from a hero, but she’d trusted him. Digging some people he could see out of the rubble would be worth repaying. Hopefully. 

Something shuffled to his side, and he turned back to Cherie, slowly pulling herself across the couch with fear all over her. 

He twitched her head to face him. 

“There’s signs to shelters all over, but the closest is at Lasser and Berhardt. I don’t know how far you can run to the safer ones inland, cause this is totally Leviathan–” The patter of rain beginning to hit the windows confirmed that guess. “And there’s not a sewer line under that one. Brian drilled us on them in case this shit ever happened. Go.” 

Her face filled with confusion for a second, before going straight to shock as she got up and nodded. ”You’re going.” 

“Probably.” 

“Do you know why?” 

“Probably.” 

“Don’t die. I still need to make you throw yourself into the bay.” 

“It’ll be a lot closer after this.” 

Cherie made a motion like she was starting to roll her eyes and took off, grabbing her backpack as she ran out the door. Alec turned back around to see Rachel still standing there, dogs by her side as she watched Brian. 

He spoke up.

“Hey, fearless leader, what’s the plan?” 

Brian jerked around from the window he was pacing at, eyes wide. “I don’t know. We're going to go, but we're not fighters, so I don't–” 

The door to Taylor’s room slammed open and the bug dork herself came into the living room, stumbling a little over her half donned costume. Lisa was right behind her, already fully dressed. 

“What the fuck are you all doing?” She yelled, grabbing Brian’s helmet off the hook it was on and threw it at him. “Get moving! We’re going out!” 

There was more resolve in her voice than Alec had heard in the entire month they’d been working together, and he got the memo. His costume was stashed in the closet on the same floor as the couch, and he pulled his own shirt off and threw on the Regent shirt and mask as fast as he could. 

Taylor yelled to them as she continued getting her costume on. “Forget the weapons, we’re not going to do shit to Leviathan. Just grab your stuff and go. Rachel, can you use your power to get us to the rally faster, or would that just drain you?”

“I’ll live.” The reply was gruff, and Rachel immediately started pumping up her dogs as Taylor finished pulling on her costume. Brian paused for a second as he zipped up his jacket and opened the door, guiding the others out. 

“My sister-” 

Taylor cut him off. “I know, and that’s why we’re going to do search and rescue. None of us are fighters. And Leviathan doesn't really care for stranger stuff. You can hide groups of people out of the way, but trying to blind him probably won’t go well, so just get people out. That goes for all of you, we’re not dying because somebody tried to fight him with a sharp stick.” 

The dogs were big enough to fit people by the time she finished, and Lisa climbed on Angelina with Taylor behind her while Rachel pulled Brian and Alec onto Brutus, taking off along the alleys and clearing the way as they charged to the rally point. He could feel the traces and systems of the heroes they’d fought slowly slipping more into focus as they got closer, Armsmaster’s tension and Velocity’s arm, plus a few strange signatures that he didn’t recognize. Taylor got off before the dogs had properly stopped in front of the building and marched on in, a swarm of bugs trailing behind her like a weird lag effect, and the others followed close behind as Rachel clicked her tongue and the dogs sat down outside the building. 

Armsmaster was the first thing he saw when he walked in the room, right next to—shit, that was Alexandria. And Legend. 

The Bay’s favorite Tinker nodded a little as they entered. “Undersiders. Here to participate?” 

Taylor glanced at Brian, who just nodded at her, and she faced Armsmaster. “Search and rescue, whatever we can. None of us are combat capes.” 

A giant robot suit with a strange mass of nervous tissue he couldn’t quite get a normal reading on stomped through the door, and started speaking with a Canadian accent. “Good. We’ve got everybody assembled outside, but while you’re here, armbands.” 

Alec only realized that was Dragon when the suit handed him a wristband with a screen and a few buttons on it, and he raised it to get his name in. 

“Regent.” “Grue.” “Bitch.” “Tattletale.” “Stinger.” 

“I thought you were Skitter.” “Not a good name at all.” 

He shrugged as they walked out to where all the other capes were in the next street over, flashes of red and black marking Empire, random bursts of color marking Protectorate and independents, and a very bright white and gold marking Victoria and the rest of New Wave. He shoved down the urge to wave at her as Lisa tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Yeh?” 

“Did you ever deal with the Travelers?” 

“If they weren’t borderline lobotomized, I didn’t know them.” 

“No wonder your people skills are so awful.” 

Legend got in front of everybody and started talking as Dragon began handing out armbands to everybody else, and Alec glanced in the direction of one of the shelters. His grip on Cherie’s nervous system was tenuous at best, but he could still see her running through the streets, almost there. Almost safe. He hoped she got there in time. 

It had to be Victoria’s fault that he actually didn’t want her dying by now. Or the Marquis thing. Somebody else had done it. 

“Wave!” 

“Well, shit.” 

And then he completely lost sight of everyone in the tumble.

Chapter Text

Cherie had to get the hell out of there. 

The streets were pandemonium, honking cars and yells of fear mixing with the sounds of fear and panic all down every single street. No sheer terror yet, at least not from the civilians. They were still coming to grips with who was bearing down on them. 

Her jacket wasn’t a windbreaker, and the rain was pelting down on her, bringing the colors several shades darker as she looked at the street signs. Lasser and Berhardt. Not this street, so time to keep moving. 

She would have followed the crowd, the map of everybody in the city a perfect guide, but literally everybody was running in a different direction. She had an idea of where the shelters were, from how clustered together people were, but the muddy borders between the inside and outside and sheer volume made it hard to actually determine, and she wasn’t going to waste a second to pull out her map. At least the vague direction of Lasser from the hideout was something she knew. 

Tires squealed over the cacophony not far off, and she grimaced as rage flared in a bunch of people near the sound. Car crash in this weather, somebody wasn’t making it in. There was barely any time as it stood, every second of rain another second for Leviathan’s waves to get closer and sweep everybody still outside off their feet and into an early grave. 

And that was not what she was aiming for. 

So she was entitled to run for her life once in a while. 

It was normal, really. It wasn’t something new that she had never done before. There was nothing to be ashamed of, running from an Endbringer. And she couldn’t do anything to it, anyway. 

The end point was that she wasn’t dying here. 

Somebody was pacing on the sidewalk, some teenager desperately trying to call somebody, and she grabbed onto Cherie’s arm as she walked by. “Do you know where Lexington Insurance is? I think my father’s there, but–”

“Not the time, lady!” She pulled herself away, picking up the pace a little. The handful of people in the skyscrapers and the ones she thought were on the Rig were all looking terrified, and that meant she didn’t have long before the water was trying to eat her. A glance around and check of the sounds of terror made it clear she was heading at least sort of in the right direction, shelter locations pinpointed to vague radii no more than three blocks out. 

She just had to make it there under the crush of people. 

It was a crush by now, the abandoned cars probably a good indication where people were parking to run the last few blocks. Cherie weaved through the mess, bumping into people and back and forth, before stopping in the middle of the street. 

People were moving away from the shelter a few blocks back and to the west of where she was heading. 

It was further, but waiting in lines could kill her. 

A few people gave her weird looks as she turned and started walking back, the surge much harder to move against than with, but their own fear and survival drives shoved any concern right out. The rain was absolutely hammering down now, drenching her nearly to the bone, and nobody had brought umbrellas. Her dye hadn’t started running, but she had to get through this crowd fast. 

It got more dense the further she got to the edges, the packs of people all parking and getting out of their cars jamming the roads full of bodies packed end to end to get to the shelter. Probably because that other one was full, now that she thought about it. But there were still a few people on the surface level near there, away from where the bulk of civilians were hiding, and if they were there she could get in. 

Shouting matches were breaking out, not even ones she caused, but surges of sheer terror from the waterfront and panic from the cluster of capes told her all she needed to know. Distant screams confirmed it, with the thin splash of water cresting over some buildings she could see in the distance, and the people not in shelters suddenly going all over. 

Time was damn near up. 

She ran through the last remnants of the crowd, shoving them out of the way with all the strength she could give and sprinting straight for the shelter. A few notes of fear or resignation from those hiding in houses or outside shelters reached her, but there wasn’t much she could do on that apart from give them a little bit of calm and keep running. 

The giant metal door set half in the ground and half in the building was obvious, but the smaller side door wasn’t, and there was only a person behind one of them. Cherie ran up and pounded on the door, slamming into it as she glanced back at the direction of the bay. 

“Hey, hey! Let me in!” 

Somebody moved on the other side of the door, annoyed but pitying, and she tried to make herself sound a little bit more like a lost teenager with the next try. “The other shelter’s too full, I can’t get anywhere else! Please, let me in!” 

The door opened a crack, a middle-aged man in uniform peering at her through the crack. “Lady, we’re full. The shelter can’t fit anybody else, you should already be in one.” 

She lunged forward, one hand grabbing on the door between it and the frame, and pulled on his pity hard. “ Sacrament, idiote! Please!” 

His face twisted, and he opened the door fully. “The door to the rest of the shelter’s over there.” He pointed to a metal hatch-like door. “I’ll walk you in.” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She shut the door behind her, and he pressed a few buttons before a hissing noise came from the locks. “Really, honestly, thank you so much.”

“Don’t get lost next time,” he grunted. “Shelter’s through here.” 

She smiled, bouncing a bit of satisfaction back at him. 

Her MP3 was nice and charged. 

Hopefully she could sit this one out without having to hear anybody be stupid.

Chapter Text

Thankfully, Taylor didn’t pass out when the wave hit. 

Crashing into a street sign tended to jolt one back to awareness. 

A look around her surroundings and at the sign that she’d hit confirmed she was between Lancaster and Wilhelm, not too far away from where she’d been swept off, and she started pulling her bugs around and spreading them through buildings as she pressed down on the button on her armband. 

“I have basic first aid training and can find people through rubble. Just direct me to somewhere I can help, I’m not a fighter.” 

The armband beeped, the map flashing for a second on it before a blip appeared about a block away from her, and she sent her bugs ahead of herself toward it to start searching. There wasn’t much rubble on the street yet, but the first wave had done some serious damage, and her bugs were settling on a facade she vaguely recalled from being off one of the taller buildings by the boardwalk. 

“Starturn deceased, GC-7. Vertexed deceased, GC-7.” 

The building had landed mostly in pieces, the top half of it having crumbled into bricks on the way down. The sound of anything in the bricks and debris was hard to pick up over the rain, especially with her bugs getting smacked out of the air for a few seconds at a time, but she saw the man groaning in the rubble at the same time as she heard him. She was by him in a second, checking his injuries with one hand as the other pressed the button again. 

“This is Stinger, found a civilian at…D-11, checking for-make that three civilians on my location, they need to get to a medic now. One bleeding a lot.” Her bugs had slipped on the pool of blood, and she sprinted over to the other woman, pulling out a strip of spider silk from her costume’s belt and tying it around her arm, doing her best impression of a tourniquet on the woman before she was replaced with a larger chunk of rubble. She spun around to look at the others, one replaced with a dislocated boardwalk bench and the other by a man in a top hat. 

“Thanks for the heads-up.” He tipped his hat at her and vanished, a large log crashing to the ground in his place, and her armband buzzed again with another indicator two blocks closer to the boardwalk. 

“Good Neighbor, deceased, FA-16. Duanan, down, FB-1. Downshift, down, FB-1.” 

The rain lightened a little as she ran, making it even easier to see the handful of people lying in the rest of the rubble or floating in the soaked wreckage of a few buildings, but every time she stopped to call them out or try and help her armband just beeped again and she kept going. 

Taylor was in the middle of judging how badly a woman’s arm was broken when something crashed through the convenience store. 

“Alexandria down, F-10.” 

She pressed down on the button immediately to reply. “Not down, just got sent flying.” Her bugs started feeling around for her armband within range, helpfully not influenced by the fact Alexandria was slowly pulling herself out of a crater. The hero looked around, gaze landing on Taylor. 

“First aid going alright?” 

“It’s okay.” 

Alexandria nodded. “Keep it up.” 

Taylor grabbed a piece of wood and held it up to the woman’s arm, pulling some more silk from off her belt to make some string, only to stop as her bugs noticed something. “Your armband fell off somewhere in that direction.” She raised a hand and pointed. “It’s by a lamppost. The bugs will show you.”

“Thank you. You can leave the splint, just let one of the rescue people know. The break isn’t too bad.” The hero was off in a split second, and Taylor shrugged and dropped the board back on the ground. The silk was back in her belt a second before her armband chirped. “Alexandria, active.” 

A tall man in a silver jacket burst through the door, moving for the woman on the floor, and Taylor ran back out the door without looking up from her armband. A chain teleporter she vaguely recognized reached her destination before her, and she formed a few vague arrow shapes out of her bugs before taking a turn for the new ping on her armband. 

“Aegis, deceased, H-7. Riverrun deceased, H-8. Songless down, H-8. Miss Militia down, G-7.” 

The road she was running on felt like it twisted, the space between her and her bugs suddenly doubling for a second before returning to normal as an impending wave slowly shrunk into a trickle of water splashing around the side of a building. A few pieces of rubble from a fight off in the distance clattered against the ground semi-harmlessly, and Taylor looked away from her map long enough to dodge a particularly fast-moving piece of rebar bouncing off the pavement. 

She looked back to a giant red warning. 

“Wave incoming. D, E, F-1 through 10.”

There was barely enough time for Taylor to send all her bugs up and away from the water before the surge caught her, the world going to distortion and tumbling before spitting her back out in the middle of an intersection. 

Right next to a dead body floating in a puddle. 

“Heavy casualties, please wait.” 

She pulled herself upright and looked around, trying to guess where she was and stay calm about it. There were more capes around her now, long-range blasters taking shots from higher up while shakers and brutes tried to bounce for cover or clear the area. Stray waves lapped through the puddles on the street, water pouring out of the front of a few buildings, and Taylor began the process of replacing her swarm with more water-resistant bugs as she tried to get away from the chaos. 

“Incoming!” 

Another wave, smaller but still clearly full of power, came rushing around the corner, a green shape vaguely visible behind it. Taylor dove for a doorway, getting in the frame just in time to avoid another surge, and pulled herself out as her bugs stayed away. A flame blaster was going all out on the wave, turning it to steam, and two heroes in matching purple costumes leapt past him and into the cloud, sending the vapor swirling around and obscuring whatever they did until a tail snapped out, one of them wrapped around it, sending the brute flying into a building before recoiling back as the other went retreated off a dropkick.

“Moraded down, C-8. Triumph deceased, E-8. Leafless deceased, E-7. Shadow Stalker down, E-6. Weld down, G-1. Prism down, G-1. Bleak Watcher deceased, G-2. Rockwell deceased, C-10…”

Taylor tuned out Dragon as the armband droned on, the flame blaster still going at the water as tail and claws lashed out from the cloud, striking at the closer brutes and shakers. The water echo snapped out after a claw strike, smashing through a building, and she dodged out of the way before the bricks could crash onto her. A cape she didn’t recognize started throwing out black humanoid shapes, stacking themselves into a barrier against Leviathan, and the monster started lashing out at them before a stray jet of water knocked a chunk of concrete into their head. 

“Thrallway down, C-6.” 

She rushed over to them, course of action already set. Leviathan recoiled as a giant blast of bright white light smacked into it, water echo disintegrating into steam, and once it recovered it was met with dozens of humanoid shapes in front of it, none of them actual people. Taylor slapped Thrallway back to awareness, their pupils blown wide open, and she reached for the armband. 

“Thrallway’s awake, but concussed, and we are RIGHT next to Leviathan. Need a mover, now!” 

Purity descended down next to her before she even finished sending the message, picking the other cape up and blasting off, and Taylor turned around in time to see another white shape flying through the air, Rune aiming at Leviathan behind her. 

Then the Endbringer froze up, a figure in white and clocks flailed around in the water next to it, and Armsmaster walked in front of her. 

“Time to get to work.”

Chapter Text

Colin was grateful the city was calm enough that there weren’t any distractions. Nobody he’d need to set up or send running, nothing to get in his way. He just had to do what he was going to do all along.

Just had to kill the beast.  

The corpse of a cape he didn’t recognize was suddenly replaced by Clockblocker trying to spit up water through his mask, and failing, and the Ward limped off still spitting up water as the other capes in the area turned to him. 

He cleared his throat, getting everybody’s attention to properly start the plan. “We need to work fast, Clockblocker’s power duration varies. Large scale shakers, that’s you, Kaiser, Gritted, start making barriers. The ones who can manipulate, wrap them around Leviathan, move it to get in its way. Fenja, Menja, can you two hold him back if the barriers break?” 

The two Empire capes nodded, turning to start bending the dust and rubble pillars and massive blades that Kaiser and Gritted were creating, Rune already flying around on some rubble and forcing what she could touch into place. The handful of blaster capes that had been following him retreated to all the way back, trying to climb up buildings or onto crumbled storefronts to get solid vantage points. It wasn’t going to work, but it was a noble goal. 

He looked to the side, taking stock of who was still there, and held back a grimace at the sight of Stinger looking around like she was trying to find somewhere to go. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but she’d proven herself useful enough that he could actually try and recruit her over the original plan, and didn’t quite deserve being left alone. Despite that, she was still a fairly poor power for this, and in his way right now, and he had to work out something–

All the water on the street suddenly exploded outwards, and he shouted at her. “Get to cover! Now!” 

A blur of gray was all he caught in the corner of of his vision before the sound of screaming metal filled his ears and somebody else yelled in the distance. 

“Rune down, C-6.” 

Kaiser’s blades lasted a second longer than Gritted’s constructs, but both gave way as Leviathan tore through them, brute strength snapping metal and stone in half. Fenja and Menja met its advance, the former’s spear crashing against its claw as the latter braced against the monster’s chest. It took crucial moments for the water echo to re-emerge, but Leviathan crashed its claw down past Fenja’s spear and the water followed, near-solid surface tension crashing against her head and knocking her to one knee. Menja let out a cry and backhanded its head, barely eliciting a twitch, and it swung both claws at her midsection. She didn’t dodge in time.

“Menja deceased, C-6.” 

Fenja’s scream of rage actually tripped off his armor’s loud noise filter, and she charged the Endbringer, spear cracking in two over its head, delivering blow after blow on the beast as it stumbled back. Kaiser threw up blades behind it, the street erupting into a gallery of all kinds of sharp spikes, and some managed to barely pierce its shell as Fenja’s blows increased. 

Its tail made short work of the metal garden behind it, smashing Kaiser through a building, and the water echo kept going straight into Fenja’s head. 

He started running to meet it as she fell. 

“Fenja deceased, C-6. Kaiser down, C-6.” 

Four empty eyes turned to meet him, and it swung an arm, water surging forward. 

This was where it began. 

One arm pulled the ancillary halberd off his back while the other engaged the prototype, gray blur kicking in, and he vented the startup plasma directly into the oncoming water. It went to steam instantly, and Leviathan charged through the cloud, claw coming for him. 

The gray blade went out, and half the claw turned to ash. 

The Endbringer almost staggered, a miniscule twitch as what remained of the claw hit the ground, and Colin’s face shifted into a snarl under his helmet. 

“Did you expect that?” 

A warning blared in his helmet, projected path of Leviathan’s tail and the water echo overlaying over his HUD, and he brought the other halberd up to send out another plasma jet, turning that part of the echo into steam. The tail itself missed by an expected margin, and it spun around, bringing another claw forward, but he was already dodging backward and out of the path he’d seen coming. 

“I know exactly what you’re going to do. I’ve trained my combat algorithms on your fights, your tricks.” The nanothorn blade carved a furrow through the side of its claw, ashen dust scattering into the air and clumping in the humidity. “If you make a move, I can tell what it is. If you so much as twitch, I can tell what you’re going to do.” 

He dashed forward and spun the nanothorn halberd in one of his hands, the sub-molecular points lopping Leviathan’s claw tips into nothing, leaving scratches and scrapes along the ends of the limbs as dust spread through the air. 

His armor’s sensors felt the change in humidity and air pressure a second before the sound reached him, and Colin recognized the move enough on his own that he didn’t need his combat algorithm to know to fire the multipurpose halberd’s grapple into a building and pull himself above the surge of water, push off the side as he released the hook, and spin through the air as he fell, nanothorns carving straight through its face, the middle eye of the three winking out into ash. 

A claw swung for him out of the corner of his vision, algorithm throwing up an alert, and he jammed the multipurpose’s blade into the ground just before he landed as a pivot point, spinning around to dodge the blow before planting his feet back on the ground, twirling the shaft of the multipurpose around his arm before catching it back in his grip and shooting out more plasma at the water echo before it could hit him. 

“Wondering how I did that? You’re intelligent enough to, but not smart enough to get the answer.” 

Three beady eyes stared at him, and Colin twirled the multipurpose halberd again, flaring plasma everywhere and turning the street into a massive cloud of steam in a move that was flashy but deservedly so. He revved the nanothorn, the gray blur around the tip intensifying. 

“Nanothorns, bastard. They slice through matter at an atomic level, splitting the bonds between particles, nothing but molecular dust left behind. Something that can kill even you.” 

Leviathan loped forward, half-charging, and Colin sidestepped between its legs with both halberds in motion. Half of one of the back legs turned to dust, and it stumbled a little, tail snapping back down and missing him. The water echo was mostly steam and gone now, whatever water slowly accumulated back into it from far away fading away immediately as he vented out even more plasma and heat. 

He was halfway through the windup to finally take out one of its legs when the arrow made of bugs pointing at the sewer lid in the middle of the street came into his view. 

He thanked himself for the backup plans as the emergency microthrusters on his suit’s front engaged and bent him back out of the way of the manhole cover as the drain exploded, the metal flying past his head and barely missing. The humidity sensors started going wild, and he slammed the plasma vents open, one massive ejection coating the street in more steam than even he could try and see through. 

And then a stream of water that felt more like a brute 6 slammed into him. 

His own tumble through the air disturbed enough steam to finally clear the area, and the microthrusters re-engaged to upright him, feet landing on the ground in time for him to get face-to-face with Leviathan. 

Colin barely had a moment to process the sight before something wet pierced his stomach. 

“What…”

The water tendril slowly faded back into the water echo, his blood on it diluting with the greater mass as his legs gave out and he fell. Alerts from his armor popped up on the screen, indicating not just one but multiple punctures, but he barely felt anything specific that wasn’t pain . Leviathan stared at him for a second longer and turned, striding off through a building and off in the opposite direction, leaving Colin alone and bleeding out in the street. 

He collapsed onto his back, gasping, staring up at the sky past his helmet. He’d almost had it, but then, Leviathan had been waiting for him to get cocky.  It had turned it back on him, biting him back. 

“Armsmaster down, C-6.” 

“Stinger here! I’m trying to patch him up!” 

The voice came as he felt a pressure around his midsection, bandages of some kind getting wrapped around the wounds, and Stinger kept talking as he registered she’d run over to him. “I can track Leviathan now, but not for long, before my bugs get washed away. I need a medic here, fast, because…fuck, Leviathan’s going for Layton and Parkview!”” 

His helmet obliged with a map of the city that he didn’t quite need to recognize the name. One of the older Endbringer shelters. One that possibly wouldn’t hold if Leviathan hit it.

“Armsmaster? Are you awake?” 

He didn’t like this at all. 

“Yes.” 

But as much of a questionable figure Stinger might be, she was a hero. Not yet, but soon. It would still be his weapons, and his protege. 

“Follow Leviathan.” He coughed. “If you can track him, we can get an accurate location, this fight might be winnable.” 

She nodded, expression unreadable behind her mask but clearly in the wide-eyed shock and determination combination he’d seen on the Wards so often. “Okay, I’ll just…wait for a flyer to show up.” 

On cue, Laserdream and Lady Photon landed, the latter’s eyes going wide at Armsmaster. “Oh, god, that’s bad.” 

“Yes,” he choked out. “Just get me to cover. Stinger can track Leviathan in a radius, keep her close.” 

“I’m on it.” Laserdream nodded, but he placed a hand on Stinger’s shoulder before any of the other people there could move. 

“Were you listening to that fight?” 

She nodded. 

“Then you know–” Another cough. This would be hell for Panacea to fix. “You know what this one does.” 

She slowly looked down at the nanothorn halberd, a hand gently closing around the shaft. 

“You made a good choice with the glaives. Miss Militia’s down, so get this to somebody who can use it.” 

She didn’t say anything, vague stammer sounds coming from underneath her mask. 

“Tell me I’m your favorite later. Go.” 

Stinger finally nodded, picking up both halberds and letting Laserdream pick her up before New Wave hero flew off. Lady Photon gingerly picked him up off the ground and kept him in a bridal carry, taking off and blazing back to the triage tent as fast as possible. 

He hoped that trust was worth it.

Chapter Text

“Is it at the shelter yet?” 

“Not quite!” 

A handful of Taylor’s bugs suddenly stopped responding, feeling very cold, and she thanked whatever cyrokinetic was still present for trying to freeze Leviathan in place. It wasn’t working that well, but it was keeping her in range. 

“It’s still in the middle of the street, but only like a block away from the shelter. The water echo still hasn’t recovered from being evaporated, so I can partially tell what it’s doing, but I’m trying to conserve bugs here.” 

Laserdream managed to give her an incredulous look despite barely even having her head in the same direction. “You’re trying to save bugs? Why, for your city takeover?” 

“Because the bugs are my only power, and if they all die, I’m useless.” She bristled. “Now get me closer, I want to drop these off to somebody that can use them.” 

“Point taken, sorry.” 

Leviathan whirled, water splashing all around the street it was fighting the heroes in, and Taylor pulled just enough more bugs to her to make a few distraction clones in the air around her. The jet of water that followed wasn’t as deadly as the one that had holepunched Armsmaster, a sight she never wanted to see again, and the bugs caught in the water pulled themselves out before it hit the ground. Laserdream dipped down below the stream, dodging behind one of the skyscrapers that the Endbringer hadn’t knocked down yet, holding in the air out of its sight.

“Who am I dropping this off at?” 

Taylor tried to shrug before realizing it wasn’t a good move to make, and pressed down the armband button with a clump of bugs. “Does anybody have expertise with polearms? Armsmaster had a weapon that could hurt Endbringers, but he put it on a halberd.” 

There wasn’t a response for a bit, until Lisa spoke through the channel. “None of the thinkers that have any idea how to use that tinkertech are frontliners, and none of the frontliners have weapon expertise. Also, fun fact: endbringer material gets more dense the further past the skin you get. Enjoy yourself, blasters~”

Laserdream scoffed, and Taylor grimaced, craning her head up at her. “You don’t happen to have polearm training, do you?” 

The hero raised an eyebrow. “Do you?” 

“A little? With one, not two. I watched him fight with them, so I kinda know how it works, but still don’t know. I know what three buttons do.” 

Now Laserdream was grimacing. “Well, do you have a–oh, shit!” 

A blue forcefield appeared in the street for a second before Leviathan crashed into it, shattering the hard light, and a small figure went flying back. Laserdream took off, heading straight for the figure, and Taylor barely managed to aim the grapple halberd and fire it at the lower edge of a lowrise apartment building’s roof just close enough to her in time for Laserdream to let her go and catch the figure. 

“Shielder down, C-3.” 

A barrage of laser fire immediately flew over Taylor’s head, a blur of similar color to Laserdream taking off after Leviathan, and she climbed back up onto the apartment building’s roof before firing the grapple again down at the street and regrouping up with some of the blasters. They all jumped as she landed, but didn’t actually get hostile as she started talking. “Who’s still here?” 

“Not a lot of us.” Legend himself touched down in front of her, hands shimmering with shifting light. “Scion’s on this side of the Atlantic, but you know the odds on that. Miss Militia might be up soon, so her power might work with that, and I can go grab a combat thinker if anybody thinks that might work.” 

A few collective nods, and then a wince as a building crashed down. Legend let out a hostile sigh and took off, lasers flying free, and the other blasters turned and went back to taking potshots with all manner of projectiles. 

“Laserdream down, C-2. Glory Girl down, D-3. Manpower deceased, C-2.” 

A surge of water kicked off in all directions, reduced to mist by the time it reached Taylor, and she across the street to safer cover as fast as she could. This was not looking good. She’d seen how useful this halberd was, with how careful she was being to not touch it to anything, but nobody else knew how to use it, and…

Nobody else knew how to use it. 

Armsmaster had trusted her with this. Her. 

Somebody had to do it. And it had to be her, right now.

She took off sprinting toward a straightaway, moving the clump of bugs onto the buttons again. “This is Stinger, I need a flyer fast!” 

A few seconds later, Assault crashed into the ground next to her, picked her up, and leapt off again, skipping across the streets at high speed.

“So, crazy bug lady, where are we off to with Armsy’s big sticks?” 

“At Leviathan!” 

“I was joking about you being crazy!” 

“Not you! Just throw me at it, keep him in place!” 

His eyes went wide, and he pressed his chin to the armband. “On mark, flashfreeze Leviathan, anybody out there!” 

A flash of green and white in the distance was cue enough, and he leapt off right after landing, flying past another block and ending up right in line of sight of Leviathan. Assault turned his head to face her. “You sure about this? Too many good people die in these fights.” 

“I know what I’m doing.” 

He pressed the armband again. “Mark!” 

The bugs she still had on Leviathan caught sight of Eidolon right in front of it before things went very cold, and the hero’s voice came through the armband a moment later. “The water echo’s frozen around the legs, but I don’t know for how long. Dammit.” 

That was all she needed. The last syllable hadn’t finished coming through the radio before she pulled in the bugs from across her range. 

All of them.

A tide of chittering chitin and buzzing wings swept towards Leviathan, parting around the capes fighting it as the skies darkened from the flying bugs. They crawled into every nook and cranny, burrowing into the frozen water all around the Endbringer, and Taylor could feel every crack in the street, every move Leviathan made as it strained against the ice prison that wasn’t going to hold long against the hydrokinetic but it didn’t need to. She could see everything outside, half of what was inside, a perfect view of Leviathan and the heroes and villains around it. 

Assault whistled, and Taylor nodded. “Now.” 

He stilled, perfectly so, and threw her forward so hard that she had to close her eyes, not that it did much to offset her vision. The bugs parted around her as she hurtled toward Leviathan, barely anybody else reacting to her. 

Leviathan’s head turned in her direction, and she felt the insects all over its face shift. The ones around the eye moved, clearing a spot as she approached them, and she sunk into the sensations. 

The world felt like it moved in slow motion as she raised the halberd, grapple aimed right at the single cockroach she left in the middle of the wound. She had to have been moving faster than anything she’d thrown herself in her life, but she still knew exactly where she was aiming. 

Her eyes snapped open as she fired the grapple, cockroaches scrambling away in the exact instant she fired. The head landed in the strange flesh, and the cord went taut, pulling her toward the Endbringer in an arc that was even faster than she’d been flying before, an island of space with the air absolutely full of bugs. She pulled the halberd closer to herself, other hand thumbing the button to kick the gray haze back on. 

Taylor sailed past Leviathan’s head, cable retracting in, and she yanked on the halberd one more time to send herself into a spin. 

She landed on Leviathan’s back feet-first. The impact jolted her, sent her staggering, but she landed. 

And started slashing. 

The nanothorn halberd was a short-action shaft, easy for her to grip, and she doubled the bugs on the Endbringer’s back as she slashed at whatever space she could reach. Flesh turned to dust as she cut, an array of shallow marks appearing and deepening as Leviathan tried to throw her off, efforts made useless by the collective senses of balance and place of several thousand bugs all flowing through her. She felt every shake before it tried to make it, and she reacted, planting the other halberd into one of the now dozen plus cuts to stabilize. 

Ice cracked under her, Leviathan straining against the prison, and she dropped down as it reared back and finally broke free. Her bugs swarmed its legs, coating them and adding the exact three-dimensional feeling to everything else she had, awareness expanding to everything the monster could do as she pulled herself back up and started moving. The nanothorn blade plunged into the nexus of all the cuts she’d made so far, and she pulled, one hand mimicking Armsmaster’s movements to get the plasma venting as she dragged the cut even further down Leviathan’s back. 

The water beneath Leviathan surged, ice beginning to melt, but a full scale barrage from Legend disintegrated most of it with smaller blasters knocking the rest out. Taylor pulled the halberd from the long cut and kept going as Leviathan thrashed, more and more gashes appearing as dust filled the air and the holes in its skin got deeper and deeper. 

The armbands of everybody in the area beeped. “Scion incoming.” 

Taylor’s eyes widened under the mask, and she took the chance, running down Leviathan’s back. Water jets began shooting for her from all around, pointed and packed with force, but she kept slashing away with one hand while the other began venting plasma at the water jets flying at her, guided by the bugs within the jets themselves and watching from all around. The area she was running on narrowed, and then gave way as Leviathan stood upright all of a sudden and dropped, tail coming straight for her. 

She fired the grappler one more time as the tail went for her, latching onto a piece of rubble on the ground, pulling to the side as the weighted cable wrapped around its tail, and swung right on impact. 

Her bugs tracked exactly what building she crashed into, searing pain shooting up her back, and she collapsed as both halberds fell from her grip, the multipurpose one sparking slightly and the nanothorn’s haze fading. 

The last thing she saw before she passed out was a golden glow and something that looked vaguely like the limb that had just hit her lying on the ground.

Chapter Text

Cherie didn’t want to be there any more. 

The sound of the shelter, the entire city, was deafening. 

Sorrow, fear, rage, anger, the slow increase of grief from the hospital and people by the fight, all of it was a sonic cluster that she absolutely hated. She’d heard it all before, caused some of it, but never like this. 

The shelter itself was far from quiet too, wails of terror and quiet sobs all mingling together with the tense chatter of people that were struggling to grasp that this was actually happening, that didn’t want to admit it. Rain kept smacking against the door, a slow trickle against the metal that was starting to get on her nerves as the battle raged outside. 

Somebody dropped a flashlight off behind her as she paced, and Cherie whirled around to the direction of the sound as somebody let out a shriek. Her face turned into a snarl, and she silenced the panic with half a twitch, the scream dying out as she forced calmness on the girl. 

“ Calice. ” She shook her head and turned back to the corner, pacing a hole in the flooring. It wasn’t just the shelter she didn’t want to be in, she didn’t want to be in this city with an Endbringer here, even if there was so much room to toy with so many people now and after because she didn’t want to die in a bumfuck New England city because a four-eyed lizard didn’t think she was drinking enough. 

The rage of a cape she didn’t know spiked and then vanished, utterly disappearing, and she didn’t flinch. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard somebody in her range die, it happened all the time, especially in this fight, but the fact she could tell where Leviathan was from where the capes were all clustered and dying was unnerving. 

The temptation to make any of them actually do something, pull up their anger into barbaric rage or pump everybody full of single-minded resolve, was tempting if it wouldn’t be a coin toss on their actual reactions. People could generally be trusted to react the same when you made them unnaturally angry or sad, but more normal emotions did different things per person and capes were so volatile that determination could bleed into overconfidence and she of all people knew how deadly that could be. She could still remember the exact song she was listening to in the last car chase. 

Alarm reached her ears, deep concern from every cape there, all shifting in the direction of one of the shelters. A few started moving all at the same point before blinking into unconsciousness or out entirely, a coordinated assault on the thing, with one in particular going very fast before crashing. One she recognized as Alec’s bug friend was flying alongside somebody that might have been a local hero before the local went incandescent with rage, but she stopped paying attention. There wasn’t much she could do. 

It was infuriating, being trapped in the shelter, unable to get out. And probably unable to leave the city for a while, which was even more annoying. 

Another person faded to nothing, and then she remembered why she was stuck in there. 

Cherie hadn’t actually seen Leviathan, and she was glad for that. That wasn’t something that needed to be in her sight or head. The utter inability to affect it had been chilling at her the entire time, the fact that something so much more powerful—

Taylor went completely empty into nothing but determination and resolve, and then went absolutely flying. At where she was pretty sure Leviathan was. 

Those bugs had to be affecting her sanity in some way Cherie couldn’t see. She ignored the slow surge of awe and spreading resolve among the capes watching whatever the hell the bug was doing to look for the others. Lisa was over with all the other thinkers, nearing the edges of her range, while Rachel and Brian were seeping trepidation in an area Leviathan had already torn through, and Alec was…nervous. 

She poked it, trying to get a reaction. He didn’t even make her slap herself. Disappointing. 

Taylor sunk into unconsciousness as a melody she’d never heard before soared into her range, relief running through those around it, mere scraps but enough.

Must be Scion.

Good. She could go and see what was eating Alec faster. 

Chapter Text

The second the doors opened, Cherie snuck right out. 

A couple cops probably saw her, but she didn’t care. They wouldn’t see her again in the next few hours, with how many people they were going to have to wrangle in the aftermath, and she wasn’t a person of interest yet. So she started picking her way through the fairly wrecked city, slowly moving through caved-on streets with minimal dirt on her toward where Alec was. 

She found him digging through the rubble of a building that was completely gone, dust covering his pants as he tried to throw the rocks around with his bare hands. 

“Unless your powers changed into being able to leech people's strength, I don’t think that’s going to work.” 

He actually spun to face her, a fraction of conflicted relief slipping into him. “You’re alive.” 

“You didn’t notice? I’m pretty sure you would have felt my spine snap.”

“I’ve been distracted, Cherie.” Back to digging away at the rubble he went. “An Endbringer came through. I’ve been looking for nerves and running away all day. I saved at least two people by making them twitch out of the way of Leviathan’s claws.”

“Are they still alive?” “I don’t know.” 

Vile worry, like an instrument working off a rotted reed, came up at that, not entirely directed at her. Cherie walked up behind him as he worked. “But then what are you doing here?”

The sound of him got worse, laced with rubbed-raw irritation. “Trying to find someone, Cherie. Listen.”

She had been, but she decided to humor him, focusing in on the pile of rubble to see what he meant. 

“I think I hear something about three feet to your right.”

He moved faster than she’d ever seen him, including the time with the fight they set up, and started tearing through the rubble. Cherie didn’t entirely get why, it was just somebody knocked out and halfway to death. Normally he’d have left them behind by now. He could probably tell, depending on how much he’d made them twitch, so she just really didn’t get why.

A particularly sharp piece of rubble nicked his hand, and Alec jumped back with a flinch, hissing as he shook the hand in question. Cherie rolled her eyes at the show. “Really, I didn’t know manual labor—“

“Shut up and help, Cherie,” he snapped. “Start digging or go get Amy. She’s on her way, so just get her here faster.” .” 

The outburst was accompanied by an even bigger spike of irritation, the worry flaring out into something so discordant and utterly out of character for Alec she was surprised he wasn’t expressing it yet, but she decided not to shrug as she turned away and listened for Amy. As he’d claimed, she was running full tilt toward them, and a realization immediately hit her. 

“Does she know you’re Regent? Because she knows I’m a cape.” 

“It doesn’t matter, she was probably going to figure it out soon anyway.” He threw a piece of rubble away to the side, and a glimpse of something white poked through. “How far away is Amy?” 

“A few blocks. Why–” 

 Alec removed another piece of rubble. 

There was a slightly dented tiara underneath it. 

“Oh, shit.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she ran back down the pile of rubble to street level, yelling off in another direction. “Hey! Panacea, Amy! Over here!” 

How Amy ran that fast while in her robes, Cherie didn’t know, but it was probably something with the sheer desperation and half-crushed hope running through her head. The other girl slowed to a stop in front of her. “Charlotte, what are you doing here? I can’t stop now, I’m looking for somebody.” 

“Amy!” Alec yelled from behind her. “She’s up here!” 

Amy glanced between Cherie and Alec, eyes widening a fraction, before taking off sprinting up the pile of rubble to Alec’s side. The body underneath was fractionally more visible now, and she started throwing rubble away faster than Alec had been, white and gold covered in dust, the toxic ringing of denied grief getting very loud in Cherie’s ears. 

With a heave, they both shoved the final piece of rubble out of the way, and Cherie heard their hearts fall. 

Victoria was barely breathing. 

Amy grabbed her sister’s arm, face blanking into an expression of paralytic fear. “Her forcefield’s not kicking in. Water in her lungs, lots of it, very low brain activity, weak heartbeat probably caused by that lack of brain activity, fuck, fuck, I can’t do anything about it, fuck!” She jerked her hand back. “I can’t disturb the consciousness, trying to mess with her brain to wake her up might break so many things, I can’t touch her brainstem to hijack her heart, there’s not enough time to cause a system shock wakeup, god, Vicky, wake up!” 

Both fists slammed against Victoria’s chest, shaking the body without causing any sort of reaction from her but digging one out of Amy, her emotions spiraling into grief and guilt and a whole mess that Cherie would have been proud to pull out of somebody. “Wake up…just, wake up, please…” 

The sobs came one by one, muffled cries, but it didn’t take long for them to turn to full blown wails as Amy clutched at Victoria’s costume, robes falling to the rubble beside her. Alec’s face was stock-still, utterly unmoving, but he sounded like he was roiling just as much as she was, a tone of sorrow and defeat she hadn’t heard off of him the whole time she’d had her powers. One hand was halfway to Victoria’s face, frozen, like he didn’t know what to do from there. 

Cherie didn’t know either, to be fair to him. She’d expected it to happen at some point, capes died, it was what they did when an Endbringer came to town and happened a little slower and more infrequently when one of the more infamous villains did, but she hadn’t expected Victoria to slowly fade out from unconsciousness into death while she watched. Hadn’t expected to feel pity not just for her, because she always felt a little bad but not too much whenever somebody kicked it on her watch, but for Amy too. For her brother, for some reason. 

“Cher frère.”  

Alec, dear old Jean-Paul with a new name, went through so much. Amy went through so much. 

They deserved a little break every once in a while. 

“Cher frère, Amy, vous avez de la chance.” 

She muttered the words under her breath, out of their earshot, but their feelings were within hers. 

It wouldn’t do to leave them like that.

Exposure had given both of them tolerance for effects, but this wouldn’t be an obvious one. She moved, pushing something new into them, a clear, resonant tone, not brash or bold but clean and true. 

The barest pianissimo-quiet trickle of hope made it through Alec’s thoughts, and his fist clenched in the air. 

Victoria’s arm jerked the tiniest bit. 

Then her ankle rolled to the side a little. 

His grip on nothing tightened, his own ignorant determination growing out of the hope Cherie’d given him, and Victoria’s body kept making the tiniest twitches, resistant to his efforts but still reacting barely. Amy pulled her head back as Victoria’s head fell to the side, jerking, and her own eyes went wide. “Keep doing that.” 

“I’m trying to find her heart, of course I’m going to.” “No, not that. If you keep doing that, I can try and carry the nerve impulses along to her brain stem, shock it back into life without moving anything, you’re generating motor movements from nowhere and I can use the reverse feedback to wake her back up keep going I can get it!” 

Amy grabbed Victoria’s arm again, a blindingly hopeful look on her face past the tears as Alec’s own arm started shaking from how hard he was holding his fist in place and Victoria kept jerking in place, limbs making miniscule movements and body shaking in place. Alec was muttering French under his breath, declarations of resolve, and Amy wasn’t doing anything on the outside but her emotions were running so fast it was almost imperceptible apart from the fact that it was hopeful and optimistic past the guilt and morbid fear. 

The spotlight sound reached her ears before Victoria jumped awake with a gasp and immediately started coughing out water. 

“Vicky!” Amy wrapped herself around Victoria in a hug, ignoring the water her sister was spewing up onto her robes. “Oh my god, you're okay, Vicky...” The sobs hadn’t really stopped, but they came back in full force now.

“Ames, I’m…I’m here.” She turned and looked up at Alec. “Why is Regent here?”

He just yanked off his mask and joined Amy in the hug. 

Cherie smiled and leaned in next to him. 

It wouldn’t be fun to end the game so early.

And they’d both earned that one.

Chapter Text

Cherie left them alone, not long after. Better to let them sort themselves out, now that Victoria was fine. 

He didn’t sit still, though. He followed her. She tried to ignore him. 

She was halfway down the street away from them when he spoke. 

“Cherie.” 

She turned, looking across the shattered street to see Alec slowing to a stop. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Not sure.” She shrugged. “Probably the loft, if it’s still standing. I’ll find somewhere else if it’s not.” 

“Loft should be good, according to Lisa and Rachel.” He paused. “I wasn’t paying attention earlier, didn’t really catch your nerves. You okay?” 

“Spent the whole time annoyed with loud people in a shelter, but otherwise fine. Your bug friend got knocked out, everybody else is alright though, shockingly. Including you.” 

“I got hit by a wave once, spent the rest of the time digging people up. Like at the end.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She knows it’s me now, at least. I’m gonna have to go talk to her about that.” 

“Have fun.” Cherie smirked. “Really, enjoy that. Before you go and dart out.” 

A sigh. “I wasn't planning on it, even if an Endbringer came. Might have to now, though. Didn’t have much of a civilian identity to leave behind anyway.” 

“Oh, don’t bother waiting for me.” Her smirk turned to a smile. “Can’t have you dying yet.” 

“Really?” He didn’t quite sound confused, on either front. “Why not?” 

“It wouldn’t be any fun if you were dead.” She made a show of looking around, then scoffed. “Who else would I torture if you were? Amy?” 

The sound of his amusement made his laugh all the more surprising. “You call it torture?” 

She raised a hand, in a so-so motion. “It’s not like I’m doing you a favor. Maybe torture’s a little harsh since you’re still emotionally and physically–only physically intact, emotional intelligence wasn’t something you had even before dad tried driving mind spikes into your parietal.” 

“That’s not what runs emotions.” “Neither of us are neurosurgeons.” 

He laughed again, but it was more to himself than her. “It’s not torture. If you were here to torture me, you’d have waited until I cared about my team more before showing up. Actually, you’d probably be showing up around now. But you didn’t.”

“It was a miscalculation.” 

“Was it?” 

Cherie stopped. It was, but only if that was her goal. She’d had faulty information, and a side project had found its way into her arms anyway. 

“I was busy by then. Doing both of those at once would have been a little much.” 

“You didn’t.” He was smiling, faintly but genuinely. “You could have messed with me at any time, shredded them all.” 

Alec took a step closer to her, continuing when she didn’t stop him. “You let them stay them, let me stick with my thing. 

“You’re the reason Vicky’s alive right now.” 

He pulled her into a hug for the second time in an hour. 

“I know it was you, and I’m shocked I’m actually about to thank you for messing with my head, but thank you.” 

Cherie was, and she knew it. But she hadn’t seen this part coming. 

She gently pulled his arms back. “Well, it’s not quite so fun to just be mean to you any more. I could have just given you the version where you sit there helpless.”

“But you didn’t.” “But I didn’t.” 

He smiled, a hand reached up to wipe his face. “I don’t know if I’m going to have to run after that Vicky talk, but you can come with me, if you want. I don’t care about all that fighting dad ran us through, you’ve got the chance.” 

Her face pinched. “Is this what actually having siblings is like? What does Brian get out of this?” 

“Pfft, hell if I know. See you at the loft?”

“I’ll double check your bug out bag.” 

He nodded, sound growing somber, and turned to go. Cherie did the same towards the loft, tuning him out as she listened around to the rest of the city. 

She hadn’t even planned for that. Really, repairing a relationship wasn’t something she usually did. But now it had happened twice, and was starting to get a little annoying. 

He was right, obviously. Fighting like how dad wanted ended up causing chaos, keeping things unbalanced between all of them. He didn’t hate her anymore, at all. He actually cared about her, and she was close to something similar, because she hadn’t given him that hope to taunt him when she thought about it. 

Giving a shit about him for reasons that weren’t related to emotional damage wasn’t something to be explicitly concerned about, really. 

The fact she hadn’t been able to make him hate her sooner stung a bit, though. But that was just from lack of trying. 

It had to be. Couldn’t be any other options. Next time she’d just steal all his friends first. 

If there would actually be a next time. Not much room for that if she booked it out with him. But she couldn’t cut her losses yet. 

Cherie stopped, closing her eyes and listening to him as best she could. 

Her damn brother. Of course he’d start actually acting like it. She was older, anyway. 

She should have got on to making him hate her sooner. 

She was glad she couldn’t hear herself then. She might have tried to guess why.

Chapter Text

The first thing Taylor noticed when she woke back up was Armsmaster standing in her hospital room, in full armor and remarkably standing.

“You’re not dead!”

The second thing was that she was still in her costume, in a hospital bed. 

“Holy shit, I’m not dead!” 

“No thanks to your reckless attempts at fighting Leviathan.”

She pulled herself up in the hospital bed, challenging him. “No, you don’t get to pull that on me, especially after you did exactly that and got stabbed by him a bunch–” 

“It was reckless and dangerous, regardless of what I did, and I told you to find somebody else to use the nanothorns, not try to attack him yourself. What were you even thinking?”

“Somebody had to! I couldn’t find anybody in time, and it was about to go for a shelter!”

“You could have died, Stinger!” He yelled. “You could have died. You’re a bug controller, a teenager. This isn’t your battle.” 

“It had to be somebody’s.”

Armsmaster sighed, almost dead tired. “Not yours. Stinger, you would have been leaving people behind. There’s people waiting on you, I would have been waiting on you to make sure you didn’t get swept away in S&R. Please, be careful.” 

She swallowed. “Okay. Okay, okay. But somebody had to, and I wasn’t going to wait around.” 

“Next time, wait a little longer. Please.” 

The room fell silent for a moment, until he cleared his throat. “But really, what were you trying to do?”

“I can feel through my bugs, so I just covered the entire area in bugs. I felt, and saw, and heard everything.” 

Armsmaster’s eyes were hidden, but something told her that they were very wide underneath his helmet. “Total sensory feedback? From all of them?” 

She just nodded. “That’s horrifying.” 

She didn’t get it, but shrugged anyway. “It’s my power.” 

Armsmaster let out a little chuckle, a faint smile climbing onto his face. “It is. And you’re using it.” 

She met his smile under her mask, letting a silence sit for a moment before speaking. 

“I don’t remember that much near the end, apart from my attack. Did Scion actually show up?” 

“Yes, he did.” Armsmaster nodded. “He didn’t have to do much to get Leviathan to go away, but that’s not entirely relevant right now.” 

Taylor straightened in the hospital bed as Armsmaster continued. “Between Coil not showing up to the fight in any capacity, the confirmation of the Travelers being here for no obvious reason after the rumors of them being spotted during the stunt with the Merchants, and your prior theory, I am both inclined to agree with you and worried for whatever moves he may make in the aftermath. Unfortunately, there is still the fact of…” 

“I live in Brockton and the Empire is still real.” 

“Indeed. And the Protectorate simply does not have enough resources to handle relief efforts, combating the gangs, and investigating Coil all at once.” 

“How many heroes…” 

Armsmaster took a deep breath before answering. “We lost Triumph and Velocity, along with Aegis, Browbeat, and Gallant of the Wards. Dauntless was injured and is currently unconscious, and we have no idea when he’ll wake up. This information is not on press release, but most of the remaining Wards were either badly injured or rendered unable to fight in the field, meaning the Brockton Bay Protectorate and Wards now consist of myself, Assault, Battery, Kid Win, Vista, and Clockblocker, as well as Miss Militia, and Shadow Stalker once they are both healed. Their injuries were severe, but far from mortal.” 

Taylor leaned forward a little in confusion. “Wait, but why are you telling me that, if you’re not supposed to…” 

She trailed off in realization, a cold feeling setting in. “Do you want me to snitch on the Undersiders now?” 

“Not yet, and don’t say it that loud, Tattletale’s on this floor.” He glanced toward the door for a second before looking back at her. “We still need an insight into Coil, or whoever their boss is. But the Undersiders are still a force in Brockton Bay seen as outside of Coil, and while your…temporary comrades are not the strongest in terms of sheer force, there is potential there.” 

“You want us to try and keep them busy.” 

He nodded again. “If you can convince the Undersiders to keep the remaining gangs and factions equally in check and occupied with you instead of tearing up the rest of the city, leaving the PRT to focus on relief efforts instead of battling off the gangs, that would be both vastly appreciated and go a long way for the PR work you’ll have to do.” 

“Well, that works for me.” 

Armsmaster spun around and Taylor’s eyes went wide as she saw Lisa standing in the doorway, smirking. “Don’t worry about it, bug. I could tell from pretty early on, but I’m on your side here. Armsy, tell the Protectorate to not worry about Coil all that much. I can confirm he’s using the Undersiders as an untraceable third party, but I’ve also got a plan to deal with him. Not your problem, but if you want to let us go in place of him...” 

He bristled. “Apologies if I don’t trust a villain.” 

“Well, trust your little friend. Little bug’s not one to be underestimated.” 

“I think I learned that on the first night in April.” 

Lisa’s smirk got even more smug. “Yeah, I figured. Oh, bug, by the way. Have you seen exactly what you did to Leviathan?” 

“Not…really?” Taylor looked around the room. “Was it something big?” 

She just looked at Armsmaster. He sighed, pulled out a portable tablet from somewhere and hit play. 

“Is that its tail?” 

And she’d told Danny she wouldn’t be fighting. 

She would have to try and stick to that, next time. There were people waiting for her to make it back out. 

Chapter Text

The boardwalk was shockingly intact for the devastation surrounding it. 

It had been one of the first areas in the city to empty out once the sirens started going off, so Alec wasn’t picking his way across bodies as he walked. The buildings around the boardwalk were mostly gone, right in the path of the first wave, but the boardwalk itself was still intact. The stairs onto the beach didn’t have railings anymore, but they were still there, and since Leviathan waves didn’t follow tidal pathings all the junk on the beach had ended up in the city itself. 

It wasn’t going to last, knowing Brockton Bay, but that wasn’t Alec’s problem. 

The sand was still wet beneath his shoes and he stepped off the boardwalk and onto the beach, and he was a little regretful of getting the vintage sneakers dirty, but the thought didn’t stick around as he kept walking. He’d ditched the Regent boots but kept the rest of the outfit, since it wasn’t really that obtrusive without the mask and scepter anyway, and he did think it looked good, but that was really past the point by now. 

He didn’t need to go far. There wasn’t much left on the beach, just sand and a few rocks, which made her all the more obvious. 

Victoria was sitting on the sand, hunched over with a blanket pulled over her back, staring out at the rock-gray sky and sickly dark sea. 

She noticed him before he said anything. 

“Hey.” 

He tried to smile at her, and didn’t quite do it for some reason. 

She looked back at the bay. 

He didn’t really know what to say, just standing there as his shoes sunk into the beach, Victoria completely still ahead of him. The tiny specks of her nerves he could see unnerved him a little, obscured like Cherie’s were, but they weren’t moving at all as she stared at the Bay. 

“Were you going to tell me?” 

He shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“Maybe? You’re a villain and you weren’t going to tell me?” 

“Should I have?” 

She sighed. “I don’t know. It would have been nice to know.” 

“But you would have dropped a dumpster on me.” 

“Do you really think I would do that to you?” Victoria’s head snapped around to look at him, hurt and anger written all over her expression. “You’re my friend, Alec, I trusted you, do you honestly think I’d abandon you and turn you in if I found out you were a villain?” 

It wasn’t even really a question. “Well, yeah.” 

She looked at him with her mouth open for a moment before sighing, her head dropping down between her knees. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.” 

“Don’t worry about it anyway.” He shrugged. “I’m booking it out of here anyway. City’s screwed, and my cover's blown. Sorry about that, but…” 

Victoria didn’t respond, and his attempt at a wry smile crumbled before he could make it work. It was worth a shot, anyway. Victoria wasn’t stupid, her and the PRT would put two and two together and figure out who he was, and that wouldn’t end well at all. Especially when Victoria realized, and–

“Why?” 

Her voice was smooth, and her aura wasn’t pressing at him, but he could tell how angry she was feeling. She deserved a reply anyway. 

“I’m not welcome in a lot of places.” That was an understatement, but she didn’t need to know that much. “It’s…messy, whenever I stick around enough to get public attention or even noticed by the important people. Easier all around for me to book it out before then. Honestly, it’s probably the thing I put the most effort in. My bug-out bags look impeccable.” 

“So you’re just running away because I know you’re a villain?” 

“What, you don’t want me to?” 

She looked back up at the sky, jaw tense and conflict in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know, Alec. You’re a villain, but you’re my friend, one of the only people outside my family that I’ve been able to get actually close to in ages, and they’re a lot different than I expected, even if we’re holding together.” A deep breath. “You’re a villain, but you’re my friend, and between that and Amy’s dad I don’t know anymore. Villains are supposed to be bad, their kids too, but villains are supposed to be bad people, not the guy you trusted when your family was combusting around itself.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t really wanna leave either. Undersiders are cool, you’re cool, but it’s easier if I just go—“ 

“That’s the problem! It is!” Victoria threw the blanket off as she stood up, leaving just her costume with an old pair of sneakers and a varsity jacket that seemed like it was just there to designate her as not fighting. “It’s easier to run, because you go for the easy option, which is probably why you never react to anything, and it’s easier for me because that’s a villain out of the city and I don’t have to acknowledge any of it, but I don’t want you to go because you’re my friend, and it’s easier, but we both take the easy way all the time and we can’t do that now.”

Alec sighed. “We really can. I can go and show up halfway down the coast with a new cover in a month at most. I’ll be in Atlanta by next week if I don’t get spotted, and you’ll never see me again.” 

She looked him in the eyes, wavering and uncertain. “Why are you running away?” 

He knew how dead his gaze looked against hers. “You don’t want to know.” 

“Fine, I’ll respect that, but I’m telling you to please not. I…” She paused. “I can’t promise anything, nobody can right now, but this isn’t something to just run from.” 

“No, Vicky, you don’t get it. Me sticking around could lead to danger.” 

“An Endbringer just came through! We were all in danger! That’s not an excuse! If it was, I would have run away when Amy triggered, the Protectorate would have packed up once Lung arrived, you can’t run away from these things! Even if you’re running from the fucking Slaughterhouse, they’ll come through eventually, and all you’re doing is making it easy by not having to face the hard choice!” 

She was half an inch off the sand, tips of her sneakers barely grazing the ground, and her aura felt like a tingling around his head as she stopped yelling. “I don’t want to take the easy choice anymore, Alec. I don’t think I can.” The blanket sunk into the sand as she sat back down on it. “I almost died. I basically did, until you and Amy woke me up. I…it’s not the same, anymore.” 

He stayed silent for a moment. No reply was on hand for that, not when he’d been legitimately prepared to book it out of the city in case anybody saw him. 

It would be so much damn work to try and stick around, and way riskier than before. He wasn’t even that attached to the Coil paycheck. 

But he’d said it himself. The Undersiders were cool, Victoria was cool, he liked what he had here even if the cash was about to be running pretty dry. 

He only noticed her restrained jump of surprise as he sat down next to her thanks to his power showing the twitch. 

“I’m not being an asshole cause I don’t want to get attached to people. I just don’t get attached, really. It wouldn’t hurt me if I ran, but right now, I just don’t want to.” 

“That doesn’t help you at all.” “Half my capacity for feeling was carved out of my brain, sue me.” 

Victoria flinched a little, and he waved it off. “Like I said, you don’t want to know. Point is, I’m not trying to be all aloof because I’m scared of emotion. I’m just not the guy to feel a lot of shit in the first place, and there’s a whole lot of reasons for me to run. But.” 

He took a deep breath of his own. “This is a lot better than the last place I ran away from. And honestly, I think I might want to stick around. For one, Cherie’s not trying to kill me here, and the people I know are actually lucid.” 

She pursed her lips. “There’s more to the story, isn’t there?” 

“You can catch it if you look, but I want to go past that. It’s something I try to leave behind. I still reserve the right to run if things go wrong.” 

“No, you don’t. I’ll drag you back.” 

He lightly smacked her on the arm, bouncing off the forcefield, and she gave an actual smile. Small, shaken, but a real smile. 

It shocked him how relieved that made him, after seeing her damn near dead earlier. 

She moved a little, leaving space in the blanket for him to take over, and he wiped the sand off his ass before sitting back down next to her. 

The full story wasn’t out, but she wasn’t talking to somebody fake, some false name he’d grabbed. She was talking to him, Alec, who he wanted to be. Who he was. 

God, it was good to know people for real. 

Chapter Text

“How off-the-book do you need this to be?” 

Amy arched an eyebrow. “You never did your reports anyway.” 

Clockblocker sighed and rolled his head in lieu of doing the same with his hidden eyes. “You’re right, but now I’m Wards leader, and the only Ward until Stalks gets cleared for duty.” Amy’s face turned to confusion, and he continued. “Kid’s on psychological leave and–well, so’s Vista, just for a different reason. They’ll be back soon, but it’s just the two of us for now, and as such I need to get on with being the responsible one.” 

“Right.” She was just wearing the outer part of her robes, having dragged him aside into a mostly empty hallway in a gap in all the healing she’d been doing over the last four or five days, patching people up after Leviathan, and it made it much more comfortable than the whole costume set. Way better for just trying to talk to somebody off duty, too. “I need this entirely off the books. Nothing illegal, it’s just not some official cape business. I’m basically just asking for advice.” 

He nodded. “Got it. I will start snitching if it turns out you’ve been doing jazz band with Jack Slash, though.” 

That wasn’t funny, but she ignored it. “It’s about what happened with somebody I was healing. I had to work with a local cape to wake her back up, and there’s a few things I want to make sure of after, in case of any lingering effects. Do you know any capes that manipulate nerve impulses, or signals between the brain and the rest of the body?” 

“Not ringing a bell.” Clockblocker shrugged. “We know all the villains in city, so unless you’re talking about Newter dosing somebody, wherever Faultline and her crew are off at right now, or that ABB bomb lady having made some sort of weird pain inducing torture bomb and yanking somebody back to consciousness with that, I’ve got nothing.” 

“You’re absolutely sure there’s nobody?” 

He tapped a finger against his chin in thought for a second before dropping it. “I can’t technically tell you, but we think Regent might do something with that, instead of some sort of clumsiness aura or shaker effect. I’m not sure how many people affected by him you’ve treated, maybe it’s that?”

Amy’s poker face was good after years of healing she didn’t like, so Clockblocker just waited the few seconds for her lack of response behind a comfortably blank face and shrugged again. “Alright, I’ll take that as a yes. There are some theories about Regent’s identity, but I don’t actually know what they are, only that they exist, so I may not be able to get back to you on that unless I actually get into the files. I’m Ward leader now, so they might be nicer, but it’s still kind of illegal to send that stuff around, and I want to keep my job and my clean legal record. Don’t expect too much about that, I guess.” 

“So Regent’s probably had a career somewhere else, you just don’t know where?” 

“Yep, that’s right.” 

She sighed. “If you do go looking, could you also look for somebody else? A low-level master, making people more reckless or causing them to lose their inhibitions or something similar. I don’t know a name, just wondering if there’s somebody like that” 

“Doesn’t sound that familiar, but I’ll check.” Clockblocker nodded. “It is Regent though, right? What, is one of you dating him?” 

“God, no, that’s nasty.” Amy shuddered, playing up her disgust. Alec wasn’t actually that bad, and she didn’t care if he was one of the Undersiders, they were the most tolerable gang in the city besides Faultline’s crew. It still wasn’t a pleasant image, him and Vicky, though, so the disgust wasn’t entirely faked. “Neither of us are dating one of the Undersiders. The cape I worked with is unimportant, I was just asking about any potential with capes manipulating nerve impulses out of curiosity.” 

“Sure, and I’m going out with Stinger on next Monday because ladies with big knives scare me.” 

“Just go back to slapping Nazis. I’m looking for a quick answer to a question.” 

“What do you think she’d want as a gift? Leviathan plushie with a detachable tail? Maybe a tinkertech whetstone?” Clockblocker snickered to himself as he headed back down the hallway, and Amy groaned. She was going to be dealing with so much of that moron in the next few days until the other Wards came back, and that many jokes were going to grate on her sanity more than a gang member healing marathon with Carol the next floor down. But she had a few other problems besides him, and he would be honest with her if he found something. 

She hadn’t gone and asked Clockblocker for no reason, just because she was trying to vet somebody Vicky clearly liked, and that was wearing on her enough as it was. She’d been curious about Alec, with how weird his power was, but the problem was less with his power and more with himself. 

Vicky’s aura had a distinct impression it left on people, especially when the exposure was great, but it was a targeted neurological effect that was trackable. She’d checked, and there were elements that followed the brain chemical changes being made and slight tweaks to how some stuff worked. Not to mention she’d been unconscious with her forcefield off and the aura usually switched off around then. There shouldn’t have been any effect, and if there had been, it would have been one she recognized. 

But she’d brushed Alec’s skin when he joined in the hug, and she’d seen his brain. The amygdala and limbic centers were completely shot, like they’d been drained down to the baseline parts, and the ancillary parts of the brain connected to emotions almost looked scarred, as if burning out and then recovering slowly. He shouldn’t have been able to feel emotions that extreme, or at least express them. 

And yet, there had been a massive surge of positive emotion in him around then, hope and optimism. More than his body should have been able to produce, and not in the way that Vicky’s aura would have worked in that situation. 

Amy would have wondered where it came from, but the answer had been standing behind her when Vicky had woken back up, if she hadn’t known better. 

And she’d seen that scarring on the emotional centers before, too. Just not on him. 

“Charlotte, please let me be wrong.”

Chapter Text

Brian wasn’t the most fond of Brockton Bay. 

He’d freely admit it, the city had problems and lots of them. Especially now, everybody scraping for everything they could get after Leviathan. Rumors were already flying about a recruitment surge in the Merchants, nobody had seen Purity, Rune, Night, Fog, or Crusader since the fight, and people were holding their breath waiting for new capes to show up. It was a painfully nerve-wracking situation, made worse by the fact that the Undersiders’ boss had been silent and Lisa and Taylor had been assembling a rough plan to make sure the Protectorate didn’t start cracking down on them, one that amounted to keeping their profile low and their reputation as just annoyances that wouldn’t leave the other gangs alone.

Just because they’d stuck to their old style after failing the bank robbery didn’t make that sting any better. The Undersiders weren’t Uber and Leet levels of shit, especially with those two having dropped off radar and gone, but it still wasn’t fun to have to be the scrappers and scavengers, the ones nobody took seriously. He could live with it, as long as he was getting paid for it and getting closer to keeping Aisha safe, but he didn’t like it at all. It wasn’t right, being the underdogs, but maybe that would change with the new plan. 

They were getting more active, setting themselves up as more of a presence than just the guys at the edge. Routes for roaming, posturing, sending the Undersiders in as even more of an interference, with more spread and more reputation. It wasn’t the same as being taken seriously like the other gangs, but it was being acknowledged, and it was something. And it was reason to get him out on the street, reminding people that the Undersiders were still alive and kicking.

His powers didn’t give him better vision in the dark, but with half the streetlights in the city out of power, he really wished they did. Being unaffected by his own smoke didn’t help when everything else was pitch black. A couple Merchants had run off when he’d started letting out a little smoke and walking intimidatingly at them, a respect of some sort, but otherwise he was just walking around trying to see if the city was crumbling any faster in any spots and use that to hold them onto a new spot of leverage. 

As if on cue, looking for a source of something to prove his presence, a fierce yell echoed out from about a block away. He started hustling over, only to freeze mid-stride as they yelled again. 

“Leave me alone, you skinhead fucks!” 

He knew that voice. 

He knew that voice.

Not again. 

He took off as fast as he could, smoke freely trailing behind him, fear running through his brain and the sinking feeling of being helpless, again, stabbing through his chest with every step. The mumbled jeers and laughs got louder as he got closer, but the slurs and insults didn’t even register to him, just the struggling sounds and grunts that he’d never wanted to hear again. A strained, terrified yell of “Help!” was the only speck of language that actually reached him over the heartbeat in his ears and pounding on the ruined pavement. 

This was not going to happen again. No matter where or when, not again.

A skinhead in a raincoat stood at the entrance to an alley, faint shapes shuffling around inside and yelling, but the guy at the front didn’t get halfway through pulling a switchblade out of his pocket before Brian grabbed his face and slammed his head into the building hard enough to make something crack. The noise paused for a moment, the profile of a person much shorter than him pressed against the wall, purple streak in hair barely catching the light, and then the alley was dead silent as he flooded it with his smoke in a furious instant.

The three guys in the alley all started failing, the one with brass knuckles charging in a direction about a foot to the left of him. It was still close enough for a jab to the neck and a roundhouse blow to the face, his head recoiling in place as the smoke absorbed the sound of his nose breaking. Another flailed with a baseball bat, swinging in random directions, and Brian planted a double-combo into his kidney before grabbing him by the back of the collar and slinging him in the direction of the final one in the alley, apparently empty-handed, but not something he was going to trust in this city, much less in this situation. The bodies clattered to the ground, and he pushed the smoke away, clearing the alley of all but the faintest groans. 

“Stay the fuck–” “Aisha!” 

He yanked the helmet off and dropped it to the ground, scooping her into a terrified hug that he didn’t want to let go. “Aisha, it’s alright, I’ve got you.” 

“Brian, what–the fuck, where did you–” 

She pulled away from him, back against the wall. “You’re fucking–shit, that’s terrifying to be in. I never knew it was that bad to see, just this big fucking void covering up everything, god.” 

“Aisha, you knew?” he whispered. 

“Yeah, you’re not subtle, what did you think I would do? Just watch you run around like you weren’t doing anything?” 

Scraping gravel from behind him pulled Brian away from a response, and he turned to see the raincoat guy from the entrance picking up the baseball bat and lunging at him, a swing aimed for his head. 

No. 

He was going to protect her. He was not going to be helpless, ever again. If she couldn’t be hidden, she could be saved. Moved, to somewhere safe, or he’d make them move. If they wouldn’t stop coming, he’d make them stop.

Smoke poured out, nowhere near as much as he’d sent out earlier, a bit going for the man’s eyes and ears to disorient him, and one stream of smoke didn’t stop as it climbed up to the bat, wrapping around the metal and pulling it above the skinhead’s head before Brian jammed an elbow into his windpipe and he dropped. 

“Since when do your powers do that?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He bent over and picked up the helmet with one hand, the other out for Aisha. She took it, shuddering as the adrenaline wore off, and he mentally planned out the route back to the somehow still standing loft. 

“I’ve got you, Aisha.” 

“You sure about that?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. ” The helmet went back on. 

Her grip on his hand tightened. “Alright. Cool. Can I crash at your hideout for a little bit?”

“I was bringing you there anyway. It’s safe.” 

She nodded, shaky and scared. 

It hurt him to see that. 

But he would make sure she was safe.

Chapter Text

Seeing somebody’s arm get twisted in the wrong direction was always gross. Not vomit-inducing, but just abstractly gross. 

At least right then, it was proof that Cherie had been pressing at least one of the right buttons. 

She shifted on the rickety fold-out chair she was sitting in and kept watching the two Merchants beating the shit out of each other, their aggression perfectly matching. Entirely synthetic aggression, manufactured by herself, and a little funny considering it had erupted over some scrap she hadn’t even seen. 

A piece of rebar crashed into somebody’s ribs, but the pain apparently didn’t register to said Merchant, and he just kept swinging at his former partner. Cherie sighed and leaned back, attention still on the brawling gangers as she listened to the rest of the city around her. A couple heroes were out several blocks away doing jack shit, the pile of flexible euphoria mixed with flashes of mania indicating Skidmark and his gang were doing something that nobody noticed, the hard-edged aggression of the wolf guy was all over the docks like he was looking for something, and her brother and his friends were scattered around midtown not doing much. Brian was immensely relieved and calm, by cape standards, but she ignored it to make sure that nobody was going to walk in on whatever was going on in front of her. 

The two Merchants headbutted each other with a crack, falling to the ground as their emotions faded to unconsciousness, and Cherie’s face twisted into an annoyed snarl for a second before she pulled out her MP3 and started scrolling through songs. It wasn’t her fault that those two were too stupid to not knock themselves out, or that they managed to turn devotion into a brawl. Idiots. 

A pop song she hadn’t heard in a while came on, and she made herself as comfortable as she could in the chair. It was probably just the fact they were Merchants, maybe the drugs were messing with the physical effects of her powers or something. The post-Leviathan frenzy could be an option, but she wasn’t too sure about that. 

She glanced around at the half of the street that was still covered in wrecked building and the absence of cars or other people in the city. 

No, actually, the frenzy was a possibility. 

Several synchronized flares of greed grabbed her attention, about three blocks away, probably another group of looters or Merchants to use. Their emotions didn’t quite sound soft, but maybe squishier, more malleable, and the temptation to see what would happen from afar was very much there but without being able to actually see the results, it wouldn’t do too much good. 

Cherie sighed again. Why was it so damn difficult to wrangle people in this city?

She’d agreed to leave the Undersiders alone, and that was really paying off since they were giving her a proper place to sleep. Messing with the heroes would get her immediately noticed, and so would trying to get something done with the fabric lady doing relief. Victoria was resistant, the Merchants would go literally insane if she ever even touched them, probably, and the other two mercenary groups would go wrong. One was mostly 53s and the other was even more volatile than the cape level of normal. 

Somebody that thought they were pretty funny started moving in her direction, judging by the feelings of humor and satisfaction, and she got up and began walking away from the unconscious pair herself. They weren’t her problem anyway, just some morons somebody could patch up and release later. It wasn’t like anybody was actually staying away in the chaos, with the Merchants everywhere. The Undersiders had already gotten into a few skirmishes with the walking trashbag and the scrap pile, and the lady leading the Case 53 gang had been getting anxious whenever the Merchants were getting active. 

Maybe she should actually go and visit whatever they were getting centered around. Centers of volatility were always wellsprings of manipulation, places perfect for her to find somebody vulnerable and twist them. She still needed one, anyway, since her other efforts were taking a while. Going for somebody slightly less stable might work out better for her, especially since she left all her thrall attempts back in Quebec. 

Just because her brother hadn’t gotten his own army yet didn’t mean he got to beat her to it. 

And just because she hadn’t quite done it yet didn’t mean she wouldn’t.

Things might look like they were going better, but she still had chances. She still could.

Chapter Text

Brian had not been sleeping well since the bank robbery. 

Part of it was embarrassment for losing so publicly and badly. Part of it was fear for Aisha, and getting caught. A much smaller part was thinking about what ABB or Empire locations to knock over later. 

All of which meant when he heard yelling at 8 in the morning from the kitchen, he goddamn bolted. 

He had been staying in the loft the last few days while the heat cooled for the bank, to try and plan with Lisa a little better, but now he was just panicking that they’d been caught somehow. His jacket and spare helmet were inside the room, and he pulled them both on as he stumbled out the door and into the living room, smoke already rolling off of him. He didn’t want to leave the others, or at least wanted to let Taylor have enough time to go since she was the newest and least experienced, but if he had to choose–

“How the fuck did you manage to burn this?!”

What the hell was Alec yelling about? 

Oh. 

Oh god dammit. 

All the alarm drained from his body in an instant as he reached the kitchen and looked around. The pan on top of the stove was on fire, as was a solid foot of the countertop around it, smoke rising up into the air. Alec was waving a blanket around above it like he was trying to put it out, but kept pulling it back when it got to close to the fire, Lisa was frantically shaking a fire extinguisher with an expression of rage on her face, and Alec’s sister was pressed against the opposite side of the kitchen frantically waving her arms around.

“I don’t know! It was just a bunch of eggs! I didn’t know they could catch fire!” 

“Anything can catch fire you idiot! Did you put them on the flame or something?” 

His sister stammered. “I–they weren’t cooking fast enough! I just turned up the heat–”

“To the fucking max?!” 

Brian just filled the kitchen with smoke, smothering the fire as he walked forward and switched the stove off. Alec and his sister started yelling, and he waited until he was certain the fire was out before dispelling the smoke. 

The first person he looked to was Lisa, who shrugged. “I was trying not to use my power.”

“Have you never used a fire extinguisher before?” “No.” 

He sighed and moved on to Alec, who just pointed at his sister. “Blame her. I was trying to put it out.”

“You didn’t put out shit, “ she retorted. Cherie, that was her name, right. “You were just waving your blanket around without doing anything!” 

“Stop.” He cut her off with a forceful half-yell. “Who started it?” 

Cherie dropped her hands to her sides as Alec and Lisa both pointed at her. 

“You’re banned from using the kitchen.” 

—

Rachel did not want much out of the day. 

They weren’t attacking any Empire houses today, and as much as she wanted to fuck over some assholes in the dogfight pits, Taylor had asked her to get some groceries for the loft. The girl needed to calm down more, but she was a good fighter, and they were running out of beer anyway. 

Any sense of mild relaxation she had from being able to get a six-pack and Taylor’s picture-drawn grocery list without getting annoyed was immediately and harshly thrown out the window when she came back to Alec’s asshole sister staring at Angelica. 

“What are you doing.” 

Sara or whatever her name was didn’t even look at her. “I’m trying to listen to your dog.” 

What. 

Selene looked at her and smiled for a second, something she immediately realized was a bad idea as she went back to looking at the dog. Jackass. “I’m trying to see if I can hear your dog’s emotions with my power.” 

The power that made her more terrified than what happened to Rollo? “Fuck no. Get away from her.” 

“Are you sure?” Cheryl looked at her, doing a really bad impression of a pleading dog. “Please? I can probably help you train them.”

“No. Get out.” She more growled the words out than spoke them, taking a step towards Skyler. If she was anything like how she’d walked through the door on the other days of her life, she didn’t deserve to be near the dogs at all. 

“Okay, okay.” Crystal raised her hands and walked away, muttering something Rachel didn’t hear. She bent down to check Angelica, rubbing her head before heading to the kitchen to put the groceries away. 

 She still didn’t know what the asshole’s name was, but she really didn’t care. She was worse than Alec. 

—

“Lisa, help.” 

Genuinely wants your help on this.

Lisa just blinked at the sight of the van’s half dismantled internals and the bits of metal and tools lying around the alley. 

“Brian, why did you let Taylor try to fix things?” 

The person she assumed was Taylor jumped up and spun around from where she was leaning into the hood, red streak of hair whirling through the air. “Excuse you, I am nothing like your pet project at all. I actually have initiative here.” 

Brian began to raise a hand to his face, but realized how covered in oil and grease it is and lowered it again. “Please just get her away from the van. I was just trying to make sure everything was okay before the next job.” 

“Then why didn’t you use my power?” 

“I was having problems with the diff, and didn’t want to risk you crashing it while test-driving it to use your power.” He sighed. “I just decided to check the oil too, just in case, and then she wanted to help.” 

Lisa nodded. She probably could have given him an answer about the differential and entire drivetrain, but he still thought of himself as a leader even if Taylor kept pushing against him. “Got it. Any luck?” 

Whatever Brian was about to reply was cut off by Cherie jumping back to face the engine. “I did something earlier! I changed the oil. Brian doesn’t want to teach me, but I’m helping here.” 

Lisa’s confused look met Brian’s exasperated one. “Did she actually–”

“Yes.” Not enjoying this situation.

“I’m surprised.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Cherie interjected. “I’ve spent a lot of time moving, I know how to keep a getaway car up and running.” 

“Didn’t you take the bus down here?” “I’m helping, stop.”

Brian sighed again and leaned over, picking up the oil bottle with a look of concern on his face. “Cherie, what grade oil did you put in, exactly?” 

“Um, 20W-50? It was the heavy duty oil, we put it in the trucks before big road trips.”

He slowly lowered the bottle. “Cherie, the van takes 5W-40. This is for diesel engines.” 

Cherie stopped midmotion under the hood. “Why do we even have that?”

“Because–I give up.” 

She tossed the wrench onto the ground and turned around, giving Brian a confused look. “I am helping here!” 

Lisa turned and walked away. 

She could just fix the van later. 

—

Taylor didn’t get Alec’s sister. 

She hadn’t really talked to her that much, but she just seemed…weird. Rachel didn’t like her, but Rachel didn’t like anyone. Especially not Taylor, but she definitely didn’t like Cherie. Brian was just kind of sick of her, like he seemed to be with Alec a lot of the time, and Lisa was usually too busy planning things to worry about her, especially after Leviathan and they began cooking up a plan. 

But even with all the changes, Cherie was still just kind of…weird. Taylor had seen her frantically writing in a bunch of locations into her notebook the other day, tilting her head and staring very intently at a wall, and she’d heard all the stories about her attempts to “help” and why she was banned from the kitchen. Even Alec got to cook occasionally, though it was really just him making a really good macaroni and cheese recipe she had no idea where he picked it up from. 

She didn’t really know what she had expected, since she was Alec’s sister and he had mentioned something about Heartbreaker a few times, so expecting a victim of a master that bad to be functional was like expecting the rubble to put itself back together. Even right now, as Taylor was trying to rewire that new part of her glaive, Cherie was trying to haul a salvaged TV back into the loft. They didn’t even have signal, so it was useless, but she could try. 

Taylor sighed. As bad as her costume and image might be, she could be worse. At least she didn’t look as weird as Cherie did to other people.

Chapter Text

“He wants us to do what?” 

Cherie looked up from her stolen notebook at Brian’s incredulous face, debated trying to make him less surprised, and then decided she didn’t care enough to do that. She liked having a place to sleep. 

“Brian, we have the cash.” Taylor gestured to the cabinet stuffed full of duffel bags for emphasis. “We can subcontract out the Travelers. You said they’re open to collaboration, right?” She turned to Lisa, who nodded from behind her bowl of dry cereal, and looked back to Brian. “We can hire them to help cover us. It won’t take more than a few hours, and we really need this.” 

“Just because it looks like half the Empire’s gone to ground doesn’t mean we can go rob them at every chance. I just saved my sister from some muggers last night!” 

Lisa looked up with a full mouth. “Dih sheh triggeh?”

Brian just gave her a dirty look. “You’re not dragging her into this. I only tolerate her sleeping here because it’s somehow the safest option.” 

She swallowed. “We might have something later, but nothing for now. And Taylor’s right. We need this, and the boss was going to let us meet him when we dropped off what we came for. Don’t you want to know who’s paying your bill?” 

He shrugged. “Some local millionaire? I don’t know.” 

Lisa just muttered “not even close” under her breath as she went back to her cereal, and Taylor continued. “Faultline’s crew is in the area, so at worst, we can ask them to cause a distraction while we sneak in. The boss wants bank statements, and whatever’s not nailed down is up for grabs, so I think that the Travelers crew can be used to help get stuff out quick or ancillary distractions. The place isn’t in my range, but I can check it out if we go on a few detours.” 

“Taylor, small issue.” Alec raised his hand from the couch. “That’s a Hookwolf pit. Hookwolf did in fact survive Leviathan. My power does not work on him because he’s made of metal.” 

“We’ll be fine.” 

Everybody stopped talking for a second, and even though Cherie couldn’t quite appreciate the dramatic silence, she finished scribbling in the location of the last possible thrall and snapped the notebook shut. “Taylor, sweetie, just because you fought Leviathan with a pointy stick doesn’t mean that everybody else can play fetch with the wolf. I’m not going to risk dying to that unless I get something to keep afterwards.” 

Taylor opened her mouth to speak, but Brian cut her off. “Taylor, I don’t care what you stole off Armsmaster and taped to your glaive, we’re not fighting Hookwolf. I’ll let you have the point that we need the job for the cash and the rep, and I want to keep Aisha safe, but I’m not going to fight the Empire’s fight club for it, even if we have two crews backing us up. I’m just not doing it, and I am not going to watch you die trying.” 

Taylor’s mouth flapped like she was trying to say something, whirring with confusion and a strange resistance that immediately started clashing with relieved vindication, a mix that made Cherie hold off getting back to scanning for thralls to properly listen to and analyze it. The relief got louder, mixing with concession, and Taylor let out a sigh and dropped her head. “Fine. If Hookwolf’s there, we’ll try to avoid him. We don’t need to fight him, just get in and out.” 

“Woo yeah,” came Alec’s response. “We get to survive.” 

“Rachel.” Taylor turned to face the last team member, busy pouring out food for the dogs that stayed in the loft. “Are you on board with this?” 

She just looked up to meet Taylor’s gaze and replied, voice completely flat, “Do we have to let him go?” 

Cherie barely held back her laugh. Alec didn’t. 

Lisa just sighed and gave Taylor a dead-eyed look. “Call your father before we go. And give him a better excuse than skipping school next time.”

Chapter Text

“Do you think there’s something wrong with the Travelers?” 

Lisa looked over at Cherie from the opposite side of the back of the van. “Why are you still here?” 

She just reached up and tapped the modified Phantom Of The Opera mask she’d cut out of one of Alec’s spares covering both her eyes.  “They’re not going to recognize me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m scouting out the competition.” Cherie peeked out the window to see Taylor still pacing outside the van, on the phone and radiating anxiety, and smiled at Lisa. “I can’t let my brother have all the fun when the army-building stage comes around. Since you guys are going to take over the city.” 

“We’re not taking over the city, Cher–whatever your cape name is.” She didn’t respond, and Lisa rolled her eyes. “You don’t have one yet. Of course not. Whatever, it’s fine, but we’re not taking over the city. Our theme is subtlety, being fast, and if any of us want to stay alive past the next month, we’re sticking with that.” 

“I’ll just be subtle about it. It’s been slowly working with Panacea, anyway.” 

The van was suddenly full of skepticism, but Cherie just ignored the look on Lisa’s face. It was really slow, but it was totally going to work once Victoria got suspicious enough. Some of that suspicion may have been going towards Alec’s past, which was…actually something to worry about her finding out, since she still had standards, but there was probably another way out of it. 

“You can’t master Glory Girl, you’ve literally tried.”

“Don’t blab about my power when there’s people nearby! It’s like you want us to get caught.” 

Skepticism turned to light incredulity right as Taylor pulled the door open, mask already on, herself a low tone of determination. “You two ready?”

“Just been waiting for you, bug. Hope you told dad what he needed to hear.” Lisa pulled her gun from her holster and checked it as she stood up and hopped out of the van, holstering it as she looked around. “Trickster! Great to see you again.” 

The man in the top hat standing at the entrance to the little between-buildings clearing didn’t voice his annoyance, or his confusion at seeing Cherie climb out of the van. “Tattletale, Stinger, pleasure to see both of you too. Are the others here?” 

“Grue’s setting up our entrance with Regent and Bitch, just down there.” An arrow of bugs formed pointing toward the wall further from the street, shrouded in smoke that was hard to make out against the streetlight-less dusk. Trickster gestured to the street, and a man in bulky black armor and a woman in slightly slimmer black and red armor rounded the corner. Lisa tilted her head in overacted confusion, which she probably actually stole from Cherie. “No Genesis?” 

“Not today. She's busy elsewhere.” 

Cherie opened her mouth and it immediately snapped shut of somebody else’s volition, Alec tsking as he stepped out of the fog. He just shook his head at her, then leaned in as he got close. “She’s a changer, don’t even bother.”

“Ah,” she whispered in acknowledgement. Changers were always risky to touch. 

Brian cleared the darkness, steps left silent by the layer along the ground, and left a patch of the wall open. “Stinger, do they know we’re here?” 

“I couldn’t hear us outside, and they’re not acting like they have. Capes are uncertain, so let’s try and be fast.” Taylor pulled a cloud of bugs into a blurry shape behind her and gestured toward the wall, the buzzing sinking to silence as Brian’s fog rolled back in. “Everybody ready?” 

Trickster just nodded, and Sundancer walked past the rest of them, standing in front of the wall with her hands out. Cherie slipped the knife out of the pocket of the raincoat she’d borrowed for the temporary costume and into her hand, listening to everybody inside. There was a lot of aggression, plenty of ambition, and more than enough volatility for there to be some capes, and she was pretty sure that there were at least two in there, if not more. 

She wasn’t going to tell them, that would ruin the point. This was a field test. 

Sundancer flared a bit of stress, and a ball of fire appeared between her hands, slowly growing to the size of an exercise ball as the bricks began to melt and crack. Cherie didn’t hear anything from it, Brian’s darkness soaking up all the noise and heat, and neither did the people inside judging by their lack of reaction. The fireball got a little bigger, chunks of warped and melted concrete falling down and slowing their movement as they passed through the smoke, and the wall came down, half-toppling, half-spilling into the smoke as it rolled around to either side of them.

The sun moved up and away from them, and they were all through the gap in a second. 

Cherie just immediately ran for where Lisa was running, sidestepping a wild crowbar swing and listening to the cluster of people in the office at the top of the warehouse’s rafters. Nervous, angry, but emotional range in the realm of normals, and all far more combative as Lisa shot the lock off the door from halfway up the steps. One of the people inside returned fire right away, a handful of bullets punching through the door as they reached the top landing, just out of the way, and Cherie twisted their fear into the paralyzing, freeze-in-your-boots variant. A shriek of terror echoed out before Lisa slammed the door open, gun raised and aim jumping between the other three holding their own guns. Cherie slid herself through the gap between Lisa and the door, smiling as they all realized that killing the Undersiders wouldn’t quite work. 

She pulled on the already-budding acquiescence. “So, bank statements?” 

They all looked between each other, resistance–annoyingly–conflicting with the concession and burgeoning loyalty, but Lisa firing another round into the floor and something catching fire downstairs was enough for them to drop their weapons. Cherie twisted the acquiesence into loyalty, and one of the guys dropped his gun and pointed toward a file cabinet by the desk in the back of the office. “Third cabinet.” 

She stuck her hand out, and he tossed the keys to her. A quick turn later, and she had a dozen manila folders pressed to her chest and three gangsters pressed against the wall, quiet and listening out of combined fear and obedience. She tried to commit the faces and subtle differences in sounds to memory, ignoring how downstairs was getting really loud. 

Lisa knocked the side of the gun against her shoulder, nudging her downstairs, and Cherie smiled at the others. “Come on, you three.” 

No reaction, just staring at her in baffled terror. She blinked behind the mask, gesturing with the knife at the door. “I said come on. We’re going.” 

One just shook his head slowly, and another coughed. “The Undersiders are down there, fuck off.”

She slammed more loyalty in, but the fear spiked in tandem, swelling back up despite her attempts to overrule it. “Go.” 

Another lack of reaction, self-preservation instincts inducing fear she couldn’t take the time to deconstruct, and she just tried to remember the exact sounds before rushing out the door. Lisa was already halfway down the steps, and the warehouse floor was a mess of smoke, bugs, slag, and yelling. There were way more people down there now than expected, and she saw Alec repeatedly tasing somebody lying on the floor with amusement and interest. Because of course he was. 

She was almost back to the hole in the wall and the van when the screech of bending metal echoed through the building, and everybody, including her, whipped around to see a shirtless man in a wolf mask standing in front of a busted-up cargo container. 

“Undersiders.” He snarled the words. “Rats and traitors.” 

Taylor reached behind her and pulled something off her belt, collapsed shaft unfolding into her  glaive with something mechanical attached to the head and wires running all around it. “You two, van. Trickster, you’ve already been paid. It’s entirely voluntary for you. Everybody else, ready?”

Alec began to yell something, but one of Rachel’s boosted dogs crashing through the door behind Hookwolf cut him off.

Cherie just ran to the van. Not her problem.

Chapter Text

Taylor couldn’t really hear the van revving to life and driving out of the alley with plenty of tire squeal over Brutus grabbing Hookwolf in his mouth and shaking him like a bundle of rope lying in the dog park. 

Ballistic had already blasted one of the delivery doors open, and Judas, Angelica, and the new dog Bummer were following through the hole.  Alec knocked the last few people standing down with a wide sweep of his hand, and Sundancer melted the van’s exit route and that hole in the wall right as Brutus threw Hookwolf all the way to the other side of the warehouse, landing with a metallic crash. 

Something shifted behind her, and Taylor turned to face Trickster, glaive firm in her grip. “Your truck’s still intact,” she said.

“I sent Tattletale a list of things to watch out for in the records. Our information is at your disposal, if you wish it.” 

“We can discuss that later. You should go.” 

“Understood. Sundancer! Ballistic!” The other two turned at their names being called, Ballistic leaping straight through the open door and Sundancer just running out. Trickster snapped his fingers one more time before ducking out and Ballistic fired again. leaving a crack right in the middle, a weak spot to knock down. The Travelers vanished, replaced by sacks of junk, and it was just the Undersiders still standing in the warehouse. 

Bummer barked behind her, and she turned to see Rachel already atop Brutus and Brian climbing on top of Judas. A glance through the bugs showed Hookwolf still pulling himself out of the wall he’d landed in, and she hauled herself onto Bummer, finger brushing the button on her glaive. 

Hookwolf tore himself from the wall with a screech, curved spikes already poking from his joints, and Taylor took that as the cue. “Let’s go!” 

“Hey, I don’t like how familiar this is oh shit!” All four dogs took off, Alec almost falling off Angelica as they bounded through the door frame, Brian trailing smoke and Taylor pulling bugs in. A tendril of smoke wrapped around the crack in the doorframe as Hookwolf lunged, pulling, and the metal collapsed around Hookwolf again before burying him out of sight. 

Dusk had turned to almost full nighttime, lit by a few scraps of daylight, scattered floodlights, and emergency lanterns, but there was still enough light left for the dogs to see where they were going. Brutus and Bummer took the lead, crashing into the street proper and leaping off again as Hookwolf broke through the rubble pile with a half-human roar of anger. Judas and Angelica followed close behind, Brian throwing out irregular clouds of smoke at the rear that Taylor’s bugs tried to mix around and spread. Brutus slid around the corner, not even stumbling, and Bummer just leapt over him, rebounding off the side of the building on the opposite side of the street and crashing back down in front as Brian let out one more big cloud to cover them.

The sound of metal scraping against concrete echoed across the rooftops, and Hookwolf leapt through the top of the cloud, fully metal and angry, claws just scraping Judas’s tail as he crashed into the pavement. Rachel whistled, high and sharp, and the dogs doubled their paces from running to full tilt along the pavement. Hookwolf kept pace, claws lengthening with each stride to nip at Judas and Angelica’s heels, even as Brian sent out bursts of smoke that Taylor’s bugs simulated detonating in Hookwolf’s face. 

The road narrowed, cut off ahead by a crater and rubble, and the dogs all turned down the street to the right. Hookwolf just shortcut across the buildings on the corner, landing down in the middle of the group and lashing out with a flurry of extended blades. Taylor dug her knees into Bummer, urging him on, and two of the other dogs dodged past him. Angelica reared up and slammed a paw on his head, metal warping around the impact, and leapt off again as Hookwolf sprung up to see Alec standing alone in the middle of the street. 

“Hey, doggie, new trick! Blink!” He smacked his scepter against his palm, and Hookwolf’s head flinched as his eyes spun in opposite directions. They stopped moving, and he looked back up in time to see Angelica plowing him over and leaping on past. A spike shot out from one of his forelimb’s elbows, tearing through Angelica, and she let out a yowl and stumbed from the wound. Alec yelped in panic and threw himself out of the way of the crashing dog, rolling as he hit the ground, his position immediately covered by the cloud of bugs that resolved into a bunch of Regent-shaped clones. Hookwolf lashed out, a chain-tangled claw sweeping through the clones, missing Alec’s rush to get back atop Angelica. The claw embedded with the pavement with a crash, and flurry of curved spikes shot out of Hookwolf’s back as Bummer leapt through the air. It tore through the dog’s shoulder, leg half-sloughing off, and Taylor leapt off the dog as she jammed the button on the glaive. 

Tinkertech was generally impossible to understand, but when you had a thinker that just gave you free information, sticking an on button to a plasma generator wasn’t that difficult. Even one yanked off a damaged halberd right after an Endbringer fight. 

Electricity arced off the kit-bashed module, plasma flaring out around the blade, and the force from the reaction sent Taylor spinning forward and into the mass of chains and sharp edges that made up Hookwolf’s main body. The plasma sparked where it made contact, melting and bubbling the metal, and Hookwolf snarled as the blades atop his back whirled and spun. Taylor twisted as she shut off the plasma, landing back-first on the pavement, Hookwolf turning to face her–

And Rachel immediately punching him right in the exposed eye. 

Taylor noted that as the first time she’d ever heard metal scream in pain before pulling herself upright and scrambling to get back atop Bummer, Rachel pouring just enough of her power into him to heal the leg before climbing onto Brutus herself they all took off again back on the dogs, Brian surrounding Hookwolf in one last cloud of smoke before they all took off full tilt. 

Alec yelled up to her. “Wait, Stinger, you need to hold on! We need to recruit whatever brand new cape tries to intervene!” 

She just rolled her eyes under the mask, and then immediately cursed. 

She’d have to find an excuse for Armsmaster for this one.

Chapter Text

“You’re certain?” 

“I had to sit through an Armsmaster interrogation to explain my suspicions on why I had to look at this article, I’m pretty sure.” 

Amy’s fingers drifted over the sheets of paper Clockblocker had left on her table. “But really? This?”

“There’s not many other human masters in the world, or America, and Gallant was a weak one.  There’s nobody else in the northeast. If you’re worried, you could like, call Boston or something, I don’t know.”

“No, I get that.” She looked between the papers on the table and him, looking for about where his eyes were behind the blank mask. “I know there’s realistically nobody else here. But that’s still…”

“Terrifying?”

“Not quite, just shocking.” 

Clockblocker tilted his head in confusion. “Do you actually think these people might be in the city? I don’t even know where to find the deeper files on the others, all I could actually print was the general ones, and I had to make up an excuse about fearing an incursion in the aftermath of Leviathan.” 

“Look, it–it’s probably nothing. I just wanted to know.” She grabbed the papers off the table and stood up, pushing the chair of the PHQ lobby table back. “Thanks, really. But I have to go now.”

“No problem.” He nodded and stood to go himself, pausing halfway through the motion. “If it’s not a lot of trouble–”

“I’m almost done with the backlog of the Leviathan injuries, but I know he’s on the waitlist. I’ll get to him, soon.” 

A heavy sigh escaped Clockblocker, relief filling his posture as he slumped, and Amy gave him a weak smile as she turned and left back through the main doors. It dropped as soon as she was outside, and she took a closer look at the papers, beginning the read through them as she walked back home. 

He’d only found one group that could possibly be candidates for what she was looking for. No specifics, but just enough information to concern her. The only suspected nerve manipulator on the entire eastern side of the continent that the Protectorate had confirmed, subtracting tinkertech weapons and a rare electrokinetic, was Hijack. Omen of the presence of, and missing son of, Heartbreaker. 

It didn’t outright scare or anger her. She knew that she could be wrong, that Hijack’s power might be different from Regent’s in functionality, and she would have noticed something in Vicky if he’d been trying to pull something. She would have just dumped it on the PRT, get him arrested, save for the fact his emotions seemed legitimate at Leviathan, and the other thing she’d read in the papers. 

Rumors had spread that another of Heartbreaker’s children, a daughter with an uncertain powerset, had run away about two months ago. 

Cherie Vasil. 

There was no picture, but the name was familiar enough, and Alec and Charlotte were siblings. 

Amy really didn’t want that to be right. But she couldn’t prove a negative, couldn’t prove that Charlotte didn’t have a powerset that nobody outside her own testimony could confirm, especially not when the timeframes lined up and the suspicion on each of the Vails individually compounded the suspicion on both of them. 

God, she hoped it wasn’t right. They believed her, and sure, Carol and the others had accepted who she was, after the Marquis truth had come out, but that was a Birdcaged shaker and she was a famous healer. This was a pair of runaway criminals and the most feared master on the planet, with them both being masters themselves. Charlotte supposedly being a master herself. 

The memory of the post-Carol conversation trip they’d gone on struck her, hanging out in the diner, the boardwalk, the fermenting cactus attempt, something she’d enjoyed even with the knowledge of Charlotte’s power in her mind. Her supposed power. Her corona hadn’t been lighting up any more than usual whenever she was in contact, but that might not mean anything if the thinker part of her power wasn’t something she could turn off. 

She needed more research. More proof, on something. 

She really hoped Charlotte wasn’t that father’s daughter.

Chapter Text

“Tattletale.” “Hey boss.” 

“The warehouse hit yesterday went well?” 

Already knows it went well. “Yep. Got the files, and nobody got hurt.” 

“Nobody?” 

“Apart from getting chased by Hookwolf. But he’ll be fine.” 

“Of course.” He paused for a second, consulting something. Either his own power or Alcott’s power. “Have you taken a look at those papers yet?”

“Had to get the loot stashed first. You know how it is, Merchants scraping everything up.” 

“Send me the location once you’ve finished. What have you been able to determine so far?” 

“Boss, I haven’t been able to take a look.” 

“Then take a look now.”

“Fine, fine.”  Coil stayed silent as she pulled out the bank statements, n ot currently reprimanding you because he’s venting frustrations elsewhere. “Where do you want me to look first?” 

“Transaction records, specifically company names. Total finances are irrelevant.” Looking for names he recognizes. Only needs partial information because he believes he is getting the rest from somewhere else. 

“Yeah yeah. Medhall’s barely on here, subcontracts out to smaller pharmacies in the city that are probably about a third Empire cover stores. Drug fronts, but most of these were destroyed or knocked out of business from Leviathan. The rest are between…a mix of Medhall affiliates and shell companies, just generally shuffling money around with the shells put as covers for contracts and deals. Revoton, Rayn Contracting, Steinman and Carlton, Messer Co, and…Harrison Brothers. They’re just shuffling money between them, slowly feeding it through Medhall and into the cover companies.” 

“Acceptable work. Give it a full read and send me your research by the end of the day.” 

“Sure, boss. Any clues on the locations you can give me?” 

“Keep your search inside the city. If needs be, you will receive additional places to retrieve more information from.” 

“We just had to run from Hookwolf, boss. I don’t want Kaiser on my ass next time.” 

He paused again, staying silent. Verifying presence of Kaiser in city via power. “Very well. But you will search the places I instruct. No running off on your own like with the safehouses. You’re lucky I did not reprimand you for that.” 

You are lucky he didn’t. Was only barely not worth it to him. Would have if it had been.
“Message received, boss. What else?”

“None. Payment will be delivered to you. Five-way split, as standard. Get the information to me tonight.”  

The line went dead, Coil having hung up, and Lisa looked up from her desk to Taylor standing by the door to her room. 

“Why are you smiling?” 

Lisa turned her building cackle into a cough as fast as she could, waiting for the urge to subside before answering. “Because of something absolutely hilarious. Three things just happened.” 

Taylor just looked at her in curious confusion. “And?” 

“One, he bought the stashing the loot excuse. We didn’t steal shit besides the files, I spent that time making sure the Travelers weren’t snitching. They didn’t, and didn’t notice us, so he didn’t expect it.” 

“Two,” she continued as she swept the papers to the side, “He said payment for the five of us. Cherie, the incorrigible, tagged along. Once again, we didn’t tell him, so he didn’t find out. In fact, I’m willing to bet if I just..” 

Lisa let her grip on her power go, and was immediately flooded with information. Believes Kaiser to still be in the city. Unaware of Cherie’s presence due to lack of inbound information. Leviathan attack injured his traditional information gathering resources. Able to predict grander gestures, information he has context for, but still vulnerable to being outplayed or tricked. Not precognitive, or analysis thinker. Simulation thinker, hence only partial need for information. Unable to react as precognitive, vulnerable to being surprised after initiating simulation. Difficult combat application. 

She pitched forward, headache kicking in hard, and waved Taylor off as the other girl began to move. “I’m fine, I’m fine, just my power. But since we didn’t give any clue that Cherie was here, he wouldn’t find out. He’s not a deduction thinker, or anything like that. If we leave gaps in his information, the odds of him patching them up are low.” 

“Well, what’s his power?” 

“Simulation, probably. He never asks me for the full answers. Shit, every conversation’s a prisoner’s dilemma with him. But…if he asks me for information, and I give him a third of what I get, and the simulation gives him another third, then he doesn’t get the full deal, oh, I can see a gap in this.”

“Lisa, what’s the missing part here?” 

She just grabbed her phone off the table, unlocked it, and showed Taylor the page saved on it. 

“He still thinks Kaiser’s in the city.” 

Taylor squinted as she read the words off Lisa’s screen. “Why are you getting emails from somebody calling themselves Damsel of Distress?”

“Just read the email.”

She did. 

“I have no idea which one of them this refers to. I’m not even sure about half of these words.” 

“Yeah, she just kind of talks like that. Point is, bulk of the Empire’s convalescing off in Massachusetts. Hookwolf’s running a skeleton crew of like, him and the pit fighters. That’s four active, with Victor and Othala probably on call. I don’t know, I’d have to see them for that, and I wasn’t lying about the being scared of Hookwolf thing. He won't be chasing after us though, he's running everything left in the city himself. Bottom line, Coil can only get so much information, and if I play my cards right, he won’t get enough to make a call. In time, or even at all. We’ll pinch him and get him in the bag.” 

She smiled at Taylor. “Forget a gang of thieves, you’re about to be splitting credit with me for catching Coil and saving the mayor’s niece as soon as we figure out how.” 

Taylor returned the smile. 

“Now get out, I have paperwork to do.”

Chapter Text

“You lost them? Really?” 

Cherie threw her hands up, more to emphasize her point than in anger. “That’s why I’m going to find them, okay? Or maybe some new ones. I don’t know, it’s been a few days, I’ll pick out the ones that I’ve already messed with.” 

Lisa sighed and walked into the kitchen, out of Cherie’s line of sight. It didn’t make her exasperation sound any more real, though. The actual emotion, disbelief, was a little motivating. “Fine, you can go look for your wannabe boytoys. Just don’t cause too much chaos. Your profile’s been low enough that nobody’s 100% figured out you’re here yet, so please don’t blow it.” 

“Yes, mother.” “That’s not funny coming from you!” 

Cherie just rolled her eyes and grabbed her MP3, ignoring whatever Alec yelled about groceries as she headed out of the loft. She was pretty sure about the vague area the ones from the warehouse were in, the three she’d pressed the loyalty and obedience into–not enough of it, though, apparently–so all she had to do was go find them, reinforce how much of it was left, and then back to it. Granted, wasn’t the best for her image, but she already had hooks in them so she could work with what she had. 

Brockton Bay still sounded about the same as it had over the last week or two, injured but recovering, post-calamity fear and paranoia and mourning fear. She hadn’t stuck around for the funeral, but the combined sorrow had been loud and she’d had other things to watch out for. 

One of those things was running around on the other side of town, right then, for some reason. Amy was strolling around with a curious intensity, like she was searching for something, but a quick glance around showed that the spotlight was back at home, which was…odd. Something she could go and handle after she got the thralls going, anyway. It was just taking so long to get results. 

The streets through the center of the city and towards the edges of the Empire’s territory, what they were still actively maintaining at least, were clear of most people outside the handful of relief sites and unsubtle safehouses. She passed by a few groups of ratty-looking people, simultaneously anxious and appraising, like they were judging those few walking past. Merchants, probably, from the nonsensical traces underneath what they were feeling right then, and she noticed a denser cluster of them off in the corner of the city, in somewhere she was pretty sure was former ABB territory. She was getting so much on her plate today, so many options to exploit. 

A quick hop over what remained of a storm drain later, and Cherie had a proper grasp on where those three were, lazy and relaxed in somewhere that she didn’t know what the building looked like. They sounded untouched, no handholds dug into their music, but that could probably change if she actually showed up, re-carved her leverage in. They didn’t have any of their friends nearby, just the three in somewhere, and there really was no threat to her. 

She found the three gangsters in a half-collapsed building, all lounging atop the rubble, a shotgun lying on the dirt between them and a little closest to the guy on the left. Their outfits were passable, a lot of black and red and poor quality button-downs, but the faces were the same. 

Cherie smiled, opened her mouth to call out to them, and then snapped it shut. She had been wearing a mask last time. They wouldn’t recognize her in her actual favorite jacket and the whole different getup and, well, shit.

Her hopes chipped but not quite dashed, she pushed the loyalty back into them, just sneaking into view so that she could direct it, only for the attempt to almost slip off. The grips of last time were gone, washed away by lack of exposure and attention, and she’d be starting from the beginning again. 

“ Tabernak.” 

God, why couldn’t anything in this city work out for her? Next time, she wouldn’t let them get away so soon, or try and go deeper. She turned and started walking away, not discouraged, just a little disappointed in that investment not bearing fruit. 

Amy was a little closer now, still searching, and Cherie decided to see what exactly was eating her, to check up on the one thing that was actually working. It was something like social anxiety, but more focused, like she was scared of seeing somebody. Maybe she’d had a fight with Carol while Cherie was asleep or something. Brandish was so unfortunately logical with her, and New Wave were well-versed in master screenings. She should have struck sooner. 

A few turns and a stroll down one of the longer unbroken stretches of road in Brockton later and Cherie was only a block away from Amy, assuming the medic didn’t start going even faster than she was already pacing around in front of some empty alleyway and—ah. This was where she’d first met them. 

“Amy?”

A flare of panic that didn’t actually abate, and Amy spun around to look at her. “Che-Charlotte.” 

“What are you doing out here? I thought you were done healing for the week.” A kind of flimsy excuse, since she was in normal clothes, but it would work. 

“My healing’s an at-will arrangement.” She sighed, still anxious and high-energy. “I was actually, uh, looking for you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I just, um.” More anxiety. Fear. Not quite the same as the conversation with Carol, but strangely close. “I had a few questions, about you, before you came to Brockton. And your brother, but-both of you.” 

“Alright, but do we have to do this here?”

“Yes. It matters.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, Charlotte.” 

“You’re sure, but are you okay? You don’t seem good right now.” 

“I just have…some questions I want to ask you. Your past, before you came here, it’s kind of murky, and I couldn’t find anybody named Charlotte Vails here. Actually, your, uh, license doesn’t exist. I checked, Wards stuff, and between you and your brother there was something that was throwing me.” 

Ah. Unfortunate, but not unsalvageable. The license was only a temporary stopgap, anyway. 

“Well, I mean, you can ask whatever you want.” Cherie smiled a little. “Just don’t go breaking my heart.” 

Amy’s emotions roiled, bubbling with fear and hope and a spark of disgust. 

They’d still be friends after this, she was sure of it. A few jokes about parents, some honesty, they’d still be friends.

Amy needed her too much.

Chapter Text

“Do I even need to ask?” 

Cherie wiggled her hand back and forth in the air, a so-so motion. “Eh, kind of. If you want to be sure of what you mean.” 

“So, you’re–” Amy shook her head. “No, answer the question. Here.” 

Cherie didn’t say anything in response, leaving Amy to let out a calming breath that barely actually calmed her. “Are you actually named Charlotte Vails?” 

“Charlotte’s a pretty nice name, but no. You can call me Cherie, if you want. Maybe I should start using Charlotte though.” 

Amy sucked in a breath. “Cherie Vasil?” 

“Yep.” Cherie kept her face at a just-above-neutral smile, gaze on Amy. “Was it a terrible alias, or did my brother tip me off?” 

“I didn’t give a shit about the alias, your brother’s hormone counts being off at the end of Leviathan made me confused–no, fuck it, that doesn’t matter, why the fuck would you do that?” 

“The hope? You deserved it. I don’t actually hate him as much as I used to anymore, and you’re a friend. I thought you deserved a break.” 

Amy waved her arms in front of her, cutting Cherie’s next sentence off. “So was your power a lie?” 

“Not entirely. I do make people do things they wouldn’t normally, that’s just not the only thing.” She looked over at a girl in a hoodie smoking on the corner, just down the street, and pointed at her. “See, she’s calm right now.” A twist, and the girl started looking around frantically. “Now she’s paranoid.” Her hand dropped, and the girl shrugged and went back to smoking passively. “And back to calm again. Surface level emotions, all very easy to toy with.” 

“You’re an emotion controller.” Amy’s voice was flat with shock. “An emotional controller.” 

“Yep. I can read them, too.” 

Amy went incandescent, rage and disgust covering everything else. “You–you know? You know.” 

“Oh, it’s not a big deal.” 

A hand grabbed Cherie’s chin, faint tingling sensations erupting around the point of contact. “Did you fucking make it worse? I swear to fucking god–” 

“I didn’t touch what you feel about your sister, I barely touched you at all. I didn’t touch your sister either, I just let her know you might be burnt out, might need a little help.” Cherie pulled away as the tingling feeling got bigger, rubbing her chin. “Don’t grab me so hard, damn. What was that?” 

“Me debating disconnecting your jaw in its entirety. Your teeth might be loose for a few days.” Amy’s face was blank anger, a few twitches near the corners of her eyes, a far cry from the absolute fury and toxic horror she sounded like. “Was your fucking plan to get her to notice? Just become your little fucking medic thrall or something?” 

“If I had actually tried to convert you, with how unstable you used to be, you definitely would have noticed. It would have been a terrible idea. But now, with your mom not hating you as much anymore and all your stress gone, you’re feeling better. We’re already friends, anyway, and that’s really the best thing–” A blast of seething rage even louder than before as Amy stopped herself from lunging at Cherie. “Hey, look, I wasn’t manipulating you, okay?” 

“Yes you fucking were! You were trying to, what, turn everybody against me?” 

“Everybody was doing it during the Marquis thing, and it would have gone much smoother and noisier if I had actually been doing it myself, so take that as proof that I didn’t. Look, Amy, I haven’t actually lied to you apart from my name and power. I just wanted to be your friend, and I know how much you needed one. I haven’t gone and toyed with you, and I just–” 

“No, fuck you, Cherie. Fuck you.” Amy shook her head, hands in fists at her sides. “I fucking trusted you, I thought you were my god damn friend, and you just wanted to fuck with me the entire time! You just lied to me, you used me for no fucking reason!” 

Cherie raised her hands. “I didn’t actually master you beyond giving you hope after the attack, I didn’t give you a crush on me–” 

“You knew and you didn’t fix it! You didn’t try and change it, or get rid of it! You just let it sit there!” Her body shook as she yelled, sorrow creeping into her feelings. “I would have taken a crush on you over that, no matter how fake it was. You’re a monster.” 

“Monster’s a strong word, Amy. I–” “No, you’re right. You’re just a villain.” She scoffed, disgusted. “I thought, I hoped, that you were my friend, you were more. You helped me get that I was more than my name, my family. But…it’s all fake. Wrong.” 

“How? You’re believing it.” 

“Because I’m different from my father. You’re not.” 

Cherie made a noise of deep offense, something hot rising in the back of her head. “I’m better than him, Amy. Just like you’re better than yours.” 

“No, no you’re not. He would have just done it. He wouldn’t get attached to his targets,” she mocked. “You can’t stop yourself. You’ve been here two months and still don’t have anybody under your belt, your brother’s on the verge of dating my sister and you haven’t exploited that at all, and you just walked out here like you were so good at manipulating that I’d just ignore the fact somebody I thought was a friend was a villain!” Amy was shaking as she stood, eyes still on Cherie while her emotions went spiraling. “You’re just a worse version of your father.” 

No. She wasn’t. “I’m better than him.” 

“Well you haven’t fucking proved it, now have you?” 

“Alright, I will.” Cherie bristled, rolling her shoulders out. “You want me to, I will.” 

Amy just made an expression of hatred at her and walked off, heading back to her house, bubbling rage barely holding back the crushing sadness. This was a setback, but she’d live, she always did. She’d get somebody, some thralls, make it clear to Amy that she was better than Dad, and get back to it. Amy just kept getting lucky, she’d decided to martyr herself instead of keeping her only friend, but Cherie would fix that. She would. She could. 

She was better than dad. Of course she was. She’d fix this, make it all work out in the end. 

She turned around and started walking towards the best targets she could find. 

She had to be better than him. 

Chapter Text

Charlotte wasn’t Charlotte. 

Amy had feared it, seen it coming in the same way she could see a train bearing down from the end of the tracks, and it still hurt when it hit. She didn’t stumble her way back to her house, still upright, expression schooled in as tightly as she could. 

It wasn’t even a case of mistaken identity, or her being Alec’s sister from somebody that wasn’t Heartbreaker. Charlotte wasn’t Charlotte, she was Cherie Vasil, Heartbreaker’s daughter, exactly what Amy’d feared and hoped she wasn’t, the exact thing she’d hoped she would never find. 

There were too many questions she hadn’t wanted to ask. How long Charlotte-Cherie had known, how much could she tell, what else she had done. All the questions Amy’d asked had been answered truthfully, she could tell that much from when she had her hand on Cherie’s face, willing to drop her jaw from her skull. But that didn’t mean that much, since Cherie had already lied to her. She hadn’t done it, and maybe she should have, but she wasn’t going to. Didn’t know if she could, with even a moment of time taken to process it all. 

The seeming honesty had been the part that stung her the most. Cherie hadn’t toyed with her emotions in any way that she could feel apparently, but Amy couldn’t even bring herself to start worrying about screening protocols, tripping over the curb as she just kept walking, ignorant of the people around her. 

She should have seen it coming, the first time she touched her and saw the damage in her emotional centers, should have expected it when she knew that Cherie was a parahuman and no new heroes had turned up. Amy knew all the Wards by touch, knew the Protectorate just as well, so she should have been able to tell that Cherie wasn’t any of them. 

She’d just–she’d just wanted to hope, that Cherie would be like her. Even with that knowledge of who she might be, she’d wanted to hope that Cherie was more than her father. More than the villain behind her. 

Her house wasn’t that far away now, dodging potholes and chipped curbs on autopilot, her rage slowly fading to something sadder. Cherie’s confusion had been real, but everything else had felt real, too. Amy had thought she was actually a friend, and now there was no way to tell what had been Cherie being nice and an attempt at manipulation. Was all of it just toying with her? Trying to get Vicky to discover it, make her reveal it herself, was it all an endgame for that? 

Powers so strong, and she wasn’t even trying to do good with them. 

Amy slammed the front door open and half-stumbled through it, eyes barely glancing around the house. Mark had been out with Carol, still was on patrol, and Vicky was still taking time off, trying to cope with almost dying and work out the Alec revelation. 

Of course she got the reveal normally.

Vicky looked up from her phone where she was on the couch, concern growing on her expression as she saw her. “Amy? What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t respond, didn’t think she could say anything coherent, and just dug the papers Clockblocker had given her out of her pocket, throwing them in Vicky’s direction and turning and running upstairs to her room. She saw Vicky get up and start to move out of the corner of her eye, but as much as she just wanted it all to be better, for Vicky to make it feel better for her, she didn’t think it would. 

The door to her room closed behind her, locked, and Amy let out a single shaky breath before grabbing an apple off her desk and twisting her power through it. The desk was full of plants, flowers of different colors and cacti of unrealistic shapes, experiments with her powers that Carol had given her the chance to take, and she pushed the mass of the apple out between her fingers into spindles of plant flesh. 

Her powers didn’t scare her. They were hers, not Marquis’s. She’d made them her own, healed people with them, saved lives, proved to herself and the world that she wasn’t a villain. Her powers were hers, nobody else’s, and she’d made them that way. 

And even though it had been Cherie to help make that happen, she was exactly what Amy had feared she’d herself one day become. 

Amy bit down a scream and threw the apple at the wall, the fruit splattering all over the paint and falling to the floor. She left the rest of the plants behind, bringing her hands up to her eyes and falling onto her bed as the first tears began to prick through. 

Why couldn’t she have just been more than what Amy’d feared?

Chapter Text

Cherie had a plan. 

The Merchants were everywhere, rats in the wreckage, astoundingly easy to influence and track. She could tell where they were from the ecstasy and aloofness in the high ones, subtle instability in the sober ones, and that classic volatility in the capes. They were all over the city, songs of rotted reeds and rusted brass, blaring notes of vermin worse than what the city already was. 

Cherie stepped around the corner and found herself right in the line of sight of a group of four of them standing in front of a van. 

She had a plan. Dad had never done anything this fast. 

One of the Merchants looked up from the bag he was holding, eagerness starting to rush into him before Cherie twisted it, from a predatory glee to an affectionate, loyal one. The others followed his gaze, and she smacked them all down in succession, obedience and acquiescence taking over. The first guy tossed the bag back into the van with a metallic clunk, the others getting slightly annoyed at that, and she smiled at them. 

“Do you guys mind giving me a drive to the others?” 

One of the others by the driver’s door let out a hacking cough and pulled the door open. “They’re way too far off. We’re running out of…” A hint of confusion struck him, and Cherie pushed it back down as she climbed into the filthy backseats. He shook his head and continued. “We’re running out of a strip mall on Layten. It’s only a few minutes away.” The van started with an almost wet clunk, off like a hunk of junk, and Cherie could hear the other Merchants getting closer. 

The Merchant in the passenger seat looked up into the mirror, meeting her gaze from the backseat, and his concern and suspicion began to rise. She slammed it back down, and he looked away, confusion averted. 

The other Merchants near wherever they were working from looked over at the sound of the approaching van in confusion, from what Cherie could hear as they pulled onto Layten, and she slowly pulled it down before they could react to it. The doors opened again, and she stepped out last in line behind the others in the van. A few flares of skepticism and mockery popped up at the sight of her, and she flipped those, admiration and respect getting into their judgements and increasing their opinions of her at a glance. 

A lady with dirty yellow hair and a duster coat pushed through the mid-sized crowd in the parking lot, coming to a stop in front of the van. “You were supposed to get more, who the hell is this?” 

Cherie grabbed the disdain and swapped it out for respect as the lady glared at her, letting it fall back in as she looked at everybody else. “The new boss.” 

The lady leaned in closer, respect still strong, but disbelief budding off of it. “You don’t look like it.” 

Cherie just pushed past her, starting along the edges of the parking lot as the others from the van tried to follow. Leader lady tried to block them off, aggression flaring off both sides, and Cherie tamped it down to a more muted level as she strolled the parking lot, taking in who she was dealing with. Some addicts, some assholes, a few people that just were there because their entire moral compass had gone completely sideways, and she pushed more obedience and loyalty, hints of respect. A few started to get suspicious, the more sober ones noticing their own attitude changes, and she slammed them all back down as she started toward the stores themselves, waiting for the others inside to start coming out and matching their emotions to her. 

She didn’t bother going toward any of the stores at the end, even though there were a few Merchants still in them, just blowing away the suspicion they were feeling and moving into the stores where more of them were clustered in. And below, somehow.

The floor gave way as soon as she stepped through the door, sloping down into a caved-in pit where the stores and back rooms should have been. A ramshackle podium sat at the far end of it, closest to the wall, surrounded by pits fenced in with scrounged up wire and old wood, and a much larger dirt arena in the center. Spectator stands, or at least really shoddy ones, ringed the room, a quarter full of Merchants of varying lucidity. She dumped appreciation onto the ones that looked up at her, still trying to quash the spikes of suspicion at her and aggression between the members of the increasing group following her, and stopped at the bottom of the ramp as the figure in the middle of the arena turned and looked at her. 

Apparently, the Merchants’ rank and file were as volatile as their capes. 

Cherie leaned back to whisper right in the ear of one she didn’t recognize. “Is the trash one Mush?” She got a nod in return, and looked back at the filthy man beneath her. 

“You fuckers only got one? Really?” He shouted.

She rolled her eyes at the sad example of a cape and waved the people behind her away, slowly stepping down the rubble ramp as the others back away from the edge. “What, am I not good enough for you?” 

Mush startled, surprised by her confrontation, and Cherie continued. “I mean, you’re not one to talk. Look at you. I wouldn’t take you up if I had a choice.” His indignation flared, and she tried to pull it into a desire to impress. “But I don’t, for now, and if you prove yourself, I may just end up keeping you.” 

The desire bulged, melding back into the indignation. “I’m someone you’d want to keep!” 

Cherie raised an eyebrow and turned back to the gang members rounding the pit, all of them staring in at her. “Do you all actually think he’s trustworthy?” She stuck her hand out at Mush. “Actually competent, somebody you want to have leading you?” 

The crowd milled, halfhearted noises coming in place of the yells she’d been expecting and anticipating, and she pulled on everybody’s obedience with a snarl before turning back to Mush. “I’m not hearing much support.” 

Mush’s fingers twitched, unraveling at the tips, and Cherie took a small step back in disgust as his anger started to spike. “I’m not fucking useless! If you don’t think that I–” 

“Shut up.” She slammed his obedience and fear, and he whimpered a little and shrunk back, power pulling him back together. “Keep your mouth shut, right now.” A few Merchants further away from the parking lot suddenly got alarmed, a handful more beacons of instability pushing toward the strip mall. She was running out of time, and she pushed harder on the obedience, smacking down every attempt Mush made at gathering up his courage, trying to aim for the root cause of it. The Merchants around the pit were starting to get antsier, and she laid the calm over them, trying to re-wrangle the ones that were all slowly waking up. The obedience kept ever so slightly sliding off, the deeper she tried to push it in, trying to time it so everybody was listening to her and not each other or getting suspicious of the why. 

Something massive revved in the street outside as Cherie kept back up the ramp, Mush following close behind her in the most loyalty she could throw on him, using the fear and desire to impress best she could, and just about every Merchant in the strip mall following her, widespread calm keeping them placated and loyalty on the ones that were close. Not as deep as she’d like it yet, but if the noises outside were what she thought they were, it would be more than enough. 

“And what in the fuck is going on here?”

The crowd parted as Cherie threw the doors open, clearing the path across the parking lot between her and the kitbashed knockoff APC half on the road and half on the sidewalk. Skidmark stood in front of the vehicle, sorry excuse of a costume half falling off of him, and Squealer still inside, judging from the sounds inside the tank. 

“Why are you all—you! What’s going on here?” 

“Quiet.” She threw the same loyalty-fear mixture she’d used on Mush over him, smothering his insolence and trying to add some respect at all to him, continuing forward toward the tank as he stopped talking and let out a little whimper. “Mush at least has respect, despite how disgusting his power is, but you just–” 

The ground in front of her lit up blue as his fear bubbled over into outright hostility, slipping her grasp, and she just barely sidestepped a rock that went flying off the ground. Skidmark opened his mouth, about to reply, and she glared at him while twisting the fear even more. “Quiet, putain.” Aggression was hard to tease away from fear, and but the base reason for it, buried deep in his psyche, was something she just couldn’t stop, so she just shut it up with even more fear. “You’re a disrespectful, filthy man, and I don’t care about you. Mush’s power is potent in this shithole, regardless of his personality–” Not that she knew much about it, and he bristled with more hostility at that. “--but yours doesn’t have much at all, and you’re just a sad sight.” 

He gasped, and she pushed him aside with another smothering of anything besides fear and the slow teasing out of obedience. There was a ladder up to the top of the tank, and she climbed it, shutting up the murmurs in the crowd with another wave of calm. Anxiety was starting to thread through them all, loyalty to their cape leaders crashing against the obedience they were feeling and slowly associating with her. And she couldn’t make them aim it if they weren’t looking at her, so she had to make this part fast. 

Squealer sounded almost as unstable as Skidmark, but smoothing that over and knocking on the roof hatch got her to open it right away. 

“Please don’t ask me who I am, it’s getting annoying. I’m the new boss.” 

Squealer raised a twitching eyebrow at her as Skidmark started to yell something, and Cherie stomped on the top of the tank to shut him up before continuing. “Like I said, I’m the boss now. Skidmark had a poor power and an…abrasive personality. So I’m taking over.” 

“Are you that much better?” The reply mirrored the mumblings outside, and Cherie leaned back out to pick out who was looking at her in the crowd and pull on their locality again. She turned to give Squealer an answer, only for a yell from the far side of the parking lot to stop her. 

“How the fuck is Mush’s power better than Skidmark’s?”

A mix of every single loyalty-adjacent emotion at that particular one shut him up, but the mumblings got louder, deep-seated respect for Skidmark starting to push out, and Merchants started glancing at each other, away from her. 

“Hey!” Cherie stomped on the roof again, snubbing Squealer’s annoyance, and sighed. Most of them were looking at her, and the ones that weren’t were just glancing around confused. The best she would get. 

Layering affection on top of all the loyalty was something she wasn’t eager for, considering the standards of the Merchants, but it would work. The ones that hadn’t been looking at her stopped and stared as she dumped it on literally everybody in the area, a mob fawning over her from a distance across the parking lot, the late arrivals across the street, the handful that had woken up on the roof, hundreds all staring at her like something incredible. 

A few of them started pushing to get closer, and she dialed back on them ever so slightly, but then the others pushed back to save their own spots in the crowd. The scattered outstretched hands turned to jostling elbows and shoves, eagerness bubbling underneath the adoration that started fighting with the calm she was pouring on, a skittishness born of the types of personalities the Merchants seemed to run with. An annoyance, one that she couldn’t get under control for some damned reason, too deep-seated in their minds, but something that could be fixed if she tried harder. Something entirely fixable. 

A spike of alarm flared behind her, accompanied by clanging on metal, and she turned around to see the issue. 

“Skids, why are you looking at her like that?” 

Skidmark blinked and looked at Squealer, right behind Cherie. “Whaddaya mean?” 

“Why are you looking at her like that? I’m right here.” 

He blinked a few times, expression changing to something confused for a second. “You’re telling me that?” 

Cherie blew the hostility of both of them back down, soothing the few spikes in the crowd. “Focus, you two. Skidmark, you’re just not good at this.” 

He just blew right back up again, the look on Squealer’s face setting him off. “No, you can’t tell me that when you were about to jump ship to this bitch right here!” 

Another push down on their aggression, trying to tilt the loyalty, but Squealer’s anger charged past it. “You looked like you were about to start fuckin worshipping her, you don’t get to say shit! I find somebody that respects me more than you, and you–” 

“Like she fucking respects you! She’s a little–” 

“Both of you, shut up.” She calmed Squealer, amplifying the loyalty that had already begun to grow, and hit Skidmark with even more fear. “If you stop fighting, then we can get–” 

The entire tank rocked to the side, and Cherie cursed the fact they kept cutting her off as she looked down at Skidmark layering his power on the pavement between him and the vehicle. “Nah, fuck that! I’m not working for you–” 

“No, you’re not! Now go away!” She waved him away with a violent flick of her wrist, fear, obedience, and respect all laid atop him, and only him, still trying to keep the affection and loyalty going even as more of the loyalty to Skidmark bubbled up on a level she couldn’t touch, the scuffling of the Merchants getting louder as the weight of what she was putting on them began to fade. Skidmark paused, inhaling like he was about to launch into a rant, and just turned around and started walking out of the parking lot. 

Until Trainwreck came careening around the corner, clanking of metal and dripping rust. 

“What the hell’s going on? What about the pit fight?” 

Skidmark gestured at Cherie, disgust growing off the fear. “This bitch stole fucking Squealer.” 

Trainwreck leaned forward. “Is that Mush?” 

“Does anybody actually give a fuck about me? I’m fucking Mush!” “No! Now get out of my way!” A Merchant, one Cherie recognized as the van driver, tried to shove past Mush toward Cherie. He got clocked by another one and Mush at the same time, stumbling back, and it turned into a frenzy of flailing hands and pushing forward, half the crowd toward Skidmark and Trainwreck and the other half toward herself and Squealer. She tried to calm the ones running toward Skidmark, but the spread of calm sparked alarm in the ones that weren’t, a cycle that Cherie barely smashed back down before the ones rushing for her started clambering over each other, a problem only made worse when Squealer took out what looked like a butchered-up rivet gun from the cockpit and waved it in the direction of the crowd, startling them back a fraction but not enough. 

Skidmark yelled. “That gun’s useless without me!” 

“Sacrement, shut up!” Cherie jammed as much fear as she could on Skidmark, sending him to his knees, and almost did the same to Trainwreck before he stepped in front of Skidmark’s prone form. “And don’t you start either, you power armored idiote.” She layered loyalty overtop the indignation at the insult, barely catching the response Squealer had to it before she could get mad at Cherie. “Just leave the costumed moron behind and come on.” 

Trainwreck’s “No.” was barely audible over the growing clamor around her, Merchants desperate for her approval fighting to get closer. Squealer started yelling at Trainwreck, shrieking about getting in the van, and Skidmark started scrambling away as Trainwreck returned it in a bellow of crashing metal. All of them were being laid with loyalty, but Cherie was stomping, yelling, trying to get attention and it wasn't working, they were all looking at each other, not at her, missing her and she couldn’t condition them if they weren’t looking at her, the loyalty to Skidmark and Squealer was buried too deep and Mush was still trying to prove himself in the scuffle, pushing the others away as he stumbled toward the APC, climbing on top of the van and yelling at Cherie, but she wasn’t paying attention because he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to, getting a gang and hijacking it wasn’t supposed to be this fucking hard. 

Skidmark threw a rock at her again, pinging off the van’s roof, and Cherie had it. This was a lost cause, somehow, it was supposed to be so goddamn simple but their loyalty was too solid, too deep for her, they weren’t paying enough attention to her to listen to her, to be loyal, the capes kept pushing against her and the unpowereds just kept reacting to her, more to manage from her power, but she just couldn’t touch the root causes, she had more range than him and more tracking and could affect more people than him so why could he do this and she couldn’t?

“Fucked.” 

That’s what it was. 

“Fine!” She screamed the words, vaguely aware of more capes encroaching from a distance. “You were supposed to all be simple, addicts and idiots and people easy to manipulate, a gang of imbeciles that I could take over, you weren’t supposed to lash back out! I’m supposed to be better at this, able to manipulate you all, do what I can! Not have your loyalty try to lash out, or stay devoted to this moron!” She didn’t even point at Skidmark, half the parking lot on her and the other half jostling absently. “But if you want to just sit around and fight, fine. Take your violence and your guns, and use them, because if you don’t work for me, follow me, if you’re not mine, you’re of no use to him or me!” 

Dumping anger, combativeness and rage, a toxic mixture of everything people felt in fights, over the group of Merchants wasn’t hard. So much easier than trying to aim their loyalty at her. They all started shifting, shuffling around as they glared at each other, their own suspicion and paranoia coming back in full without Cherie suppressing it and emboldening their own moves. 

Then Squealer aimed the gun at Mush, and all hell broke lose. 

The music turned to a cacophony of violence, clashing metal and yells the same volume as the bloodlust that Cherie had only made a part of as she hopped off the van and walked away, dodging between charging Merchants. She could hear some of the heroes approaching even closer now, a spotlight flying through the air a while away, and ignored them all. 

This was supposed to be so simple, so easy for her. 

It was easy for him. 

Chapter Text

Cherie didn’t know the name of the building she was standing on, but she didn’t really care. 

The guard hadn’t been paying attention through his own mistakes, and she’d been able to just walk by him, get in the elevator, and take the last bit of the stairs up to the roof without any interference at all. 

The noise of the battle at the mall was still clear, even from half a dozen blocks away and with people fading out, something she wished she could just ignore, that the blare of her MP3 in her ears would stop. It was so damn loud, blaring and broken, and not what it was supposed to be. 

“Cherie?” 

Victoria’s spotlight was dim, but still there as Cherie turned to look behind her. “So Amy told you?” 

“She came in crying and threw a bunch of paper at me. I could put the pieces together.” The roof crunched a little under Victoria’s sneakers as she landed. “Was she right?” 

“Yes she was.” Cherie tried to keep her posture upright, stay composed, don’t start looking beat up in front of Victoria. “She was looking upset after she came to talk to me. Told me to go prove myself, since I hadn’t done it before.” 

“Prove…did you do that?” 

She couldn’t quite see Victoria, but knew that she was pointing in the direction of the Merchants. “Yeah. It wasn’t the plan, but it was what happened.” 

“What? Were you trying to take over the Merchants or something? What even is your power?” 

“Manipulation, control, like him.”

“It’s not like Heartbreaker, though, is it?” 

No, it wasn’t. 

Cherie took a breath. 

“Do you know what it’s like to have everybody love you?” 

Victoria froze behind her. 

“I don’t know when you triggered, but your power, you have to. They give you what you want, no regard for why or how, and there’s nothing you can’t get away with. Everybody praises you, gives you what you want, and you don’t even hate it. Why would you, when it’s what you want, with no strings attached? You don’t like it, send it back. They’ll apologize.” 

Victoria stayed silent. 

“One time, I asked for a psychology textbook. He’d just grabbed a doctor he thought was a good pick, and I saw the degree on her wall. One of the others gave me one the next day.” 

A noise of realization behind her. “You were trying to condition them into following you.” Victoria paused. “Your power’s not as strong as his, is it?” 

“It’s perfectly strong enough, it just didn’t work. It was a good textbook, though. Everything I did faded over time, so I read about Pavlov and thought I had a plan going. I had to at that point.” 

“Had to?” Victoria half-whispered. 

Cherie sighed, faintly. “Everybody loved me. Except him. You know that theory of how people get issues based on what they lacked as kids?” 

“That’s Freud, everything he said was bullshit.” 

“I wasn’t about to vindicate a moron, Victoria, shut up.” Cherie snapped the reply. “Everybody loved me, gave me what I wanted, except him. He never did, never cared beyond what I could do once I got my powers. I gave up wanting that from him years ago. I knew he didn’t, and watched him ride Jean-Paul past when my brother stopped wanting to, if ever he did.” 

Victoria stepped into her view, looking down at Cherie. “Then what was the point?” 

“The point was that I’m still Heartbreaker’s daughter, Victoria. He was my father. He wasn’t just the exception, he was the only reference point. Every direction’s based off north, and everything’s all around him. All about him. Everything I know is around him and–” 

She took a deep breath. “It’s all about him. I don’t have anything outside of just being Heartbreaker’s daughter.” 

“You’re too scared to find something else?” Victoria’s tone was hot, angry, and Cherie couldn’t bear to hear it then. She just couldn’t. 

“I don’t know how!” She screamed.. “Everything was about him, all I knew was around him! What was I supposed to do, what AM I supposed to do? My fucking world is the legacy of Heartbreaker, so what can I do apart from try to run it, do what he does? What can I do, outside of him?” 

She pitched forward, panting, feeling almost frantic. “I don’t know how to go outside of Heartbreaker, of being his daughter. Do I have other options besides just trying to beat him at what he does?” 

The roof was silent, wind not blowing, and Victoria looked away with a sad expression on her face. 

“When I was growing up, everybody in my life had powers. New Wave was everything I knew. They gave me what I wanted, I was the darling, but it wasn’t the same.” 

She walked away from Cherie. “I know what it’s like to have everybody love you, Cherie. I know when it’s not real.” 

Her voice hardened. “It doesn’t mean anything about you.” 

Cherie choked on her words. “It didn’t for you.” 

Victoria was silent before she took off, flying away without too much of a sound, and Cherie tried to bring herself back together between gasps. It was hard to focus, think, but it was still painful to see how much she just hadn’t done it. 

She was supposed to be better than him. She had to be, it was all she had the options for. Beating him at his own game, pulling people, manipulating, she had to because it was her only shot. 

Cherie looked up, over Brockton Bay. 

The broken heart patch was heavy in her pocket.

She had to be better than him. More than him. 

She just didn’t know how much of her was him. 

Or how to find out what wasn’t. 

Chapter Text

Three days later, much closer to the East Coast than the Midwest…

“And you’re certain this gang falling apart was her doing?”

“Without a doubt. Will you do it?”

“It’s certainly not our usual fare.”

“I will be paying handsomely.”

“I understand that part, but…” The man on the couch of the RV leaned against the wall, setting the newspaper back down on the table. “We simply don’t do things like that. It’s not in our style.”

“Yet you do have a history of it. I do not trust my own with the task anymore. And I have approached you as an equal, not one making demands.”

The man raised a finger to his lips, tapping it in thought. “Indeed you have. And while your request is unusual to us, it’s also novel, in a sense. I really don’t think we’ve done something like that before.” 

He moved his hand out in front of him, stopping the impending response. “We will still need to come to a decision on this. There’s a lot of features at play here.”

The figure to his left shifted, and he turned. “Do you have concerns?”

A few gestures, words traced in the air. “A point. The location is something old. We have been there before, but there’s nothing wrong with a returning trip, is there? Especially when it’s been so long and changed so much.”

A concerned nod, followed up by a confused head tilt. “I know, I know. The timing isn’t the best. But we couldn’t have known sooner, could we?” 

A finger tapped on the table, and he turned to his right, facing the one seated there. “And your patience is appreciated. The location is…well, I don’t think it’s an issue. The people there may be, there’s less room for us to get away, but this isn’t something for subtlety, I think. We’re simply adding on another goal. What do you think?” 

Silent shrugs from both of them, and he leaned in a little closer to his right. “Really? We wouldn’t be doing much of what you like.” 

A pair of narrowing eyes, and a slow nod. He chuckled. “Well, that answers that, I suppose. Could you go tell the little one what we’re doing? I think she’d like to know.” 

The RV’s window opened, and a woman poked her head in while the other moved out. “Eugh, rude. Put something on." She turned to face him. "Did you finally decide?” 

He nodded. “Have you come up with a new trick?” 

“Maybe. If you stop bugging me about it.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Tell the others, if they have any concerns.”

“That’s why I’m here. They’re excited for it. In fact, I think they’re, blaaagh, collaborating. I don’t want to know what the big one thinks he’s up to.” 

“That explains why I haven’t seen either of them. I think it’ll be interesting, though.” She started to go, and he snapped his fingers. “Oh, and tell them we won’t be finding much in the way of new additions. I may have somebody, but they shouldn’t expect any gaps filled.” 

She left, and the one to his left made a confused gesture. “Don’t you worry about it, I’ll make it my own personal project. If it doesn’t pan out, well, that’s just business. But that one has been active, and has potential.” He raised his gaze at the final one, on the other side of RV’s table. “I think you have yourself a deal, sir.” 

Nikos Vasil smiled cruelly. “I can trust you to send a message?”

“Hostage negotiation isn’t something we usually engage in, at least not in good faith. You most certainly can. And to top it off, we’ll even let you leave after. Just leave the rest to us.” 

“Give me my children, make my authority clear, and you may have the city, with whatever people you wish alongside them.” 

Jack Slash stuck out his hand. “Done and done.” 

Heartbreaker took it. 

This would be so fun. 

He hadn’t been to Brockton Bay in years.

Chapter Text

Victoria’s first urge on opening the door was to slam it right back in Alec’s face. 

The only reason she didn’t was that he didn’t look smug at all. 

“Did you know?” 

“What, that she was my sister?” He gave her a deadpan look. “No. I have no idea–of course I knew she was my sister. I didn’t know why she was here, for like, the first day.” 

“The first day?” 

“The first day I knew she was here, not the first day she was here. I met her in mid-April. I’m not even here to talk about her.” 

Victoria rested her arm against the door frame, blocking Alec from coming in as she opened the door fully. “Alec, your sister’s been lying to Amy for the last two months. I don’t know if you knew or not, but I’m not happy.” 

“I can tell.” He began to take a step forward, and Victoria noticed the notepad under his arm. “But can we move on?” 

“No, we can’t.” She crossed her arms, floating a fraction of an inch off the ground. “Did you know what she was doing?” 

“Kind of.” She floated a little higher, and he raised his hands. “I didn’t encourage her. I didn’t think she would, really. She’s not good at pulling Dad’s tricks. I mean, she told me the how and why, but not the actual reason.” He sighed, dropping his hands, the notepad still hidden from her view in a move that seemed intentional. “I wasn’t there to cover her infiltration, or whatever she was doing. I was there to make sure she didn’t start trying to make a harem. That was it.” 

“And what, making friends was an accident?” 

“Vicky, how many actual friends do you think I had?” 

There was pressure behind the last word, his dead expression filling and cracking into something almost wounded. “I didn’t exactly miss my family, that’s why I ran away, but when she showed up I figured that hey, maybe I could actually not try to have to murder my sister this time. After a bit, and the Marquis thing, I thought that maybe for once I could, you know, actually have a sister. She probably got too much into having friends and doesn’t want to admit it–not talking about her.” 

“We’re not.” Victoria dropped back down to the ground. “I don’t doubt that you didn’t have actual friends. She went on a little rant about that part. I got it, as much as I could. But that doesn’t change the fact you lied to me and Amy for months. I trusted you, hung out with you, if Leviathan hadn’t hit I was probably going to actually ask you out, and you didn’t even tell me your name.” 

“Alec is just better than Jean-Paul. And I was trying to get away from my dad.”

“You still should have told me.” 

He huffed, annoyed. It was a weird emotion to see on him. “Remember what you said at the beach? Why I didn’t tell you I was Regent? I like this place, I like actually having friends.”

“Fine.” She tried not to snap, keeping her voice calm. He was right in that one spot at least. “Then why are you here?” 

“Worry.” His reply came straight away. “I didn’t know how you were holding up, and haven’t really seen you since the funeral. Sorry about your uncle.” 

“Thanks. He was a good man.” 

“I’m sure.” He shuffled, bringing the notepad out in front of him but still not facing her. “If you want to cry with your sister, that’s fine. I’ll just wait for everything to get back to properly functioning and not having the entire dockside of the city be like walking through wet flannel. I was just worried, I haven’t seen you since Leviathan. Just wanted to check in and give you something.” 

He held out the notepad, and she slowly took it, turning it over. 

Her breath paused. 

It was a picture of her, in full costume, splayed out on the rubble she’d woken up in after Leviathan. Her skin was untouched, costume pristine, despite how her arms were bent around her, legs buried in rubble and body limp. Something dripped off her arms and unconscious face, water or blood unclear in the monochrome, and her tiara was in the air above her, against the sky, a nerve wrapped around the spire. 

“I couldn’t get it out of my head. You just seemed so vulnerable, for somebody that tries to be invincible, and I was so scared. I was scared for you, and Cherie, and Amy and my team.”

He sighed. It sounded sad, even moreso considering his usual expressiveness. “You don’t have to keep it, but it’s a reminder, kind of. You know Prince Rupert drops?”

“Don’t touch the tip,” she answered. She’d looked them up, not long after she’d gotten powers.

Alec nodded, and she lowered the notepad. 

“It’s just…a reminder. I know you’re a hero, and all that you said, but we see you lose as much as we see you win. You said it’s not a game anymore, and I can buy that, but just please remember who’s playing.”

“I’ll remember that. But I can’t run away from everything.”

“I know, you’re a hero and all. Just, you get what I mean.”

“I’ll make it worth it,” she said. “And maybe after Amy’s feeling better, we can go out and do something?” 

It was strange, to be saying that to a villain and the child of an even bigger one, but Alec had saved her life. Supposedly been telling the truth.

“I’ll let you sort your family issues first. But I’m not saying no.”

“See you soon, then.”

He nodded, smirk slipping back into place, and turned to walk away. Victoria closed the door behind him, staring at the picture, realizing it was all pencil, gray and white. 

Their personalities hadn’t been lies, at the least. Alec really was what he’d been acting like, the guy she’d started to lean on.

She hoped.

Chapter Text

“We’re all here? Good. The boss has a job for us.” 

Brian crossed his arms at the head of the loft’s table. “I thought he wanted us low after the Merchants.” 

Lisa shrugged. “He’s eager. Can’t say more, but with the Merchants gone and the Empire’s recuperation in Massachusetts being kind of an open secret, we’re not having much competition. Windows of opportunity.” 

Alec let out a weak sigh and opened his energy drink, spilling a little bit onto the wood. “Is it quiet?” 

Worried about sister. “Well, not really.” 

Taylor glanced at Brian for a second from her chair right next to Rachel, before looking back to Lisa. “I think it’ll be worth a shot. What’s the deal?” 

They weren’t going to like this. Lisa pulled up the thin file Coil’s mercs had dropped off earlier that day. “Steal something out of the PRT building.”

Brian, Rachel, and Alec all started yelling at the same time, while Taylor just froze up. Wants to catch Coil. Thinks this might be what you need to meet him and confirm things. Knows she ultimately doesn’t need to, but scared of inaction.

“I get it!” Lisa yelled over all of them, cutting them off. “It’s risky, yeah. But the boss has a plan–”

“Risky doesn’t begin to cover it, Lisa.” Brian was trying to remain calm despite intense emotional reaction to proposal. “Raiding the PRT? Breaking into their HQ? The only way it could be worse is if he wanted us to crack that oil rig!” 

“I’m not doing that.” Alec was leaning back in his chair, but his voice was serious. “I’ve signed off on the last few jobs because they were all running jobs, the ones we could dip from and go stop Cherie from burning down the loft or something. But she’s spent the last four days in her room, listening to music, right after the best chance for the boss to find out she’s here and force her into this.” 

“We brought her to the Hookwolf one,” Rachel grunted. 

“Because she asked, wasn’t actually fighting, and we didn’t tell the boss. She just made a gang tear itself to shreds because–her issues. I’m not ditching her.” 

Alec finished, and Brian stared at him. “I never thought I’d sympathize with you when it comes to having a sister.” 

“She’s older than me, but with how much weight Dad has with her, I’ve got to cover her.” 

“It’s a bad idea.” Rachel was looking at Lisa now, hiding most of her displeasure. “We’re not strong enough to take them. We don’t want them to think we’re strong enough, because then they’ll fight us. And we’re not quiet anyway.” 

Lisa turned to Taylor, waiting for her input, and the other girl took a breath before answering. “Even if we’d get to meet the boss or something, it’s not worth breaking into PHQ and whatever that would take. I’m vetoing it.” 

Rachel raised her hand, Brian and Alec right behind her, and Lisa relaxed in relief. “Thank god.” She tossed the files off to the side, ignoring the clatter as they hit something. “I didn’t want to take that job at all. Absolutely insane. His plan involved some plot to kidnap a Ward, it was ridiculous. That’s related to my point.” 

Her own document bag was bigger than any of the ones Coil ever dropped off, and it thumped as she dropped it onto the table. “I have a job for us.” 

They all looked at her in confusion. 

“Our boss is, as you just saw, insane. Not actually, but his plans are insane enough that sticking around any longer is going to get hairy. I want the Undersiders to keep going, we’ve got a good thing here, but continuing under our boss is untenable. So, my proposal.” 

She snapped her fingers, pushed back her chair, and stood up. “We go out on our own. With how the city is, we can survive off whatever we pick up from jobs without the boss’s cash. Brian has his sister, Rachel’s shelter has the people crashing there and supply drops, and I’ve got enough money saved up for all of us that even if we never go on another job again we can live modestly. Or, we can keep going without the boss dictating our every move, dodging the Protectorate and keeping things up. We won’t go for territory, and they won’t be able to catch us.”

They were all looking at her interest, including Taylor, so she finished. “None of us have leverage left under the boss. If you do, then just let me take care of it afterwards. And if you want to, you’ll be able to walk at any time, with severance pay. Lots of it. This is obviously not a betrayal, no member of the Undersiders is plotting to take direct action against the boss. It’s just us moving out from underneath him.” She glanced at Taylor for a second. “I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to add that he kidnapped the mayor’s niece, and he’s not the most reputable backer, if we ever want other people to contract us out.”

Brian, Rachel, and Alec all looked at each other, weighing pros and cons of reputation change and freedom.

“Remember, none of us are going to end up fighting him. It’ll all be a nice and clean breakaway.” 

Alec turned to look her dead in the eyes. 

Knows you’re not lying. Knows what the boss would do. 

Doesn’t want that for his sister or Undersiders.

He was the first to raise his hand, and Brian and Rachel followed right after. 

Taylor scoffed, raising her hand in a technically meaningless gesture. “Lisa, you’re handling this part.”

“You started this, you’re helping me.” 

“I didn’t start this part. That’s your fault.”

Chapter Text

Cherie’s earbuds fell out as she looked up at the opening door. 

“Jean-Paul?” 

“You alright in there, Cherie?” 

She just shook her head and fell back onto the mattress, music blaring from the earbuds. It still hadn’t been enough to drown out the rest of the city, taunting reminders in the distance of those handful of former Merchants that had actually made it out of the melee. 

“No.” 

“Mhm.” He stepped forward, looking down at her from the side of the bed. “You want to play some Medal of Honor?” 

“I don’t want to play your stupid shooters, Alec.” She sighed. “Why did you go for Alec, anyway?” 

“It sounded better than Jean-Paul.” He pursed his lips, thinking for a second, singing a little of familiar worry before speaking again. “And it was new. Mine. Kinda the same reason I picked Regent, though that was more rebranding. I hate PR.” 

She was pretty sure what he meant by that, with the concern coming off of him. “It wasn’t his, you mean.” 

“That’s part of it.” Alec propped an elbow up on the bed frame, leaning against it and the wall. “It’s not like I miss much. I’ve got more friends here than I did back home, nobody’s riding my ass, either meaning, and I’m actually doing my own thing.” 

Cherie didn’t reply, staring up at the ceiling. Alec stayed there for a few seconds, then turned to go, sadness loud. He didn’t want to say what they both were thinking. 

“Did you think I could do it?” 

He stopped, halfway out the door, suddenly even more concerned. 

“What?” 

“Did you think I could actually do it?” She asked. “I could hear you. You didn’t believe me. First it was skeptical, like how none of us trusted each other, but then it was just sad. Pitying.” 

He was quiet in his sad concern. Cherie resumed after barely getting a breath in. “I didn’t want to hear it. I could do it on my own, even though it didn’t work. I’d hoped it would. But then I just…” 

She trailed off, ignoring the fact he sounded something like that very pity. “I couldn’t do it. They were drug-addled fools, and I just couldn’t do it. I could make them fall apart, but no matter what, I couldn’t get it into them.” 

She wasn’t crying, yet. There still had to be something out there she could do, some way to make herself better than he was. But every day, as she saw them going untouched, that she heard the Undersiders stay together and Amy stay away from her, an entire city that she didn’t know if she could make love her or hate her, it just felt worse and worse. 

“It wasn’t because of your powers.” 

He moved, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t think that you couldn’t do it. You probably could, you’ve dosed people in the past that Dad’s fucked up. It’s possible, but I didn't think you would.” 

“I would have. If I could have, I would have.” 

“You’re saying that, but I didn’t really think you would.” Alec leaned back, onto the mattress,  head at the opposite end of Cherie’s. “I ran off, I stopped really giving a shit. Sure, if you gave me the shot, I’d start using my power but I’d do it because I wanted to. I don’t want to just have everything from back there, cause that’s not my thing.” He paused. “Besides, it doesn’t seem as entertaining anymore. But if I did want to do it, I’d do it in my way, not dad’s way.” 

“You didn’t think I would because I’m not dad?” “I didn’t think you would because I thought you’d get through what I did.” 

“You had a power that he thought was useful. You could actually remote control people, he couldn’t.” Cherie let out a faint groan, a noise of sadness that she knew he knew she was feeling anyway. “I was just another him, and I didn’t know what else to be.” 

“You don’t want to go looking?” “I don’t know how.” 

“That’s fair.” He exhaled, calmer, and rolled off the mattress. “I ran off on my own. I tried to cut myself away from him.” 

“Are you going to give me the damn spiel?” 

“Nah.” She got the feeling he was smiling at her encouragingly, even though she couldn’t see him. “Just gonna say that dad doesn’t have any taste in music.” 

He stood and left, closing the door behind him. 

Cherie wiped away the drop at the corner of her eye and pulled the earbuds back in. 

Chapter Text

Amy didn’t want to talk about it. 

But that thing had been weighing on her mind for years now, and she wanted it gone. She’d known people without that problem, as much as she could have known Cherie, yet she wanted Vicky to have somebody else that was her friend not because of the fact she was a superhero. 

Though, it had started before Vicky triggered. Whether the fact it was real was a comfort or not, Amy couldn’t tell. It was a vulnerability, she knew that much, and she had to patch it before something went wrong. 

It was almost certainly why Cherie had found her. And she couldn’t let herself be a danger to Vicky anymore. If she got hurt, then she had it coming, but she had to get it cleared before somebody turned it against all of her.

Carol and Mark were downstairs, but they both just missed Amy as she walked towards Vicky’s room. Carol might have been giving her more space, more time and freedom, but if she said this it would be too much. So she stayed quiet as she slowly cracked open Vicky’s door. 

“Ames?” Vicky looked up from her phone, lounging in the air next to her bed. “Something up?” 

“Um, yeah.” She gently shut the door. “I need to talk to you.” 

“Is it about Cherie?” Vicky landed, placing her phone on her bed. “Did something else happen, or have you just changed your mind?” 

It was Cherie’s fault that they were having this conversation, but that was the worsening of an older problem. “It’s not Cherie, no. It’s something else.” 

“Then what is it?” 

Amy took a deep breath, in and out. “I just have to get something off my chest. I think it’s part of why Cherie cared so much, but I…I need to say this, so I can get it over with.” 

Vicky sat down in the chair by her desk, an open, welcoming expression on her face. “Amy, what is it? You can tell me.” 

“I don’t know about that.” 

Vicky looked confused, but didn’t say anything. Amy shut her eyes. 

“I like you.” 

She opened them kept going before Vicky could say anything in response. “I don’t want to, but I do, I have for a long time and I’m sorry. It’s probably why Cherie went after me, trying to pull me away from you with that knowledge, and it’s my fault. I’m sorry, I am, and if you want me to go I will. I just needed to tell you before it went wrong because I’m trying to get over it, and–” Amy gasped in a breath. “I’m sorry. I just needed to tell you, before somebody tried to use it.”

Her control was fraying, but still there, as she watched Vicky’s expression shift as she worked it all over. She could hope that Vicky took it well, that they could move on, but if she wanted her to go Amy could live with that. She was getting over it anyway, that would help. 

“Well, what the fuck?”

“No, I know, it’s bad.”

“How long?” 

“A while.” Amy let out a breath. “I’ve just been trying to hide it.” 

Vicky blinked, in thought, staring at the wall before looking back at Amy. “Did you do anything?” She asked, accusingly.

“No, no, no. I’ve never acted on it.” 

“I don’t like it.” Vicky let out a sigh, shaking her head. “I’ll be honest with you, I really don’t like that. And…it makes me uncomfortable, but you haven’t acted on it, so we can…resolve it later.”

“I saw the drawing Alec gave you yesterday.” It had stung, but she’d had to see it. “I knew you’d never return it, so I just had to get it out before somebody tried to use it against us again. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t act on it, at least.” Vicky cleared her throat. “Alec says she won’t try anything again, but I don’t know how much to really trust her. Regardless I…don’t like this, I need some time to get over it, but you know that I don’t feel that.”

Amy nodded. “I know, but I just had to get it out. So we can move along, get it to go away and back to normal.” 

“Yeah, yeah, just give me the time to get over that.” Vicky didn’t smile at her, but it was a look that made Amy relax a little anyway. “I won’t lie, I’m uncomfortable with all of that, and I don’t really think I can pretend that you never said that. So…yeah, time.”

More nods, and Amy turned to leave, quietly slipping out of Vicky’s room and back into hers. 

The tears were there, trying to push out, but she ignored them. Right now didn’t deserve tears. She’d chosen to do this herself, gotten it over with herself. It was something only she could fix, and she’d done it. Whether she could move past it was a hard question, but it was one she was willing to face now. 

She had thrown herself into the fire and came out alive, snapping that one risky spot. Even if Cherie did something again, it was something Vicky could stop. It was out there, and nobody could use that knowledge against any of them now. 

The fact Vicky wasn’t shutting her out after this was more than she deserved.

Chapter Text

“Tattletale, just give him the files.”

Lisa gave Taylor a look, expression flat behind her mask. It was a miracle she could still see her this late and dark. “Stinger, it’s Armsmaster. I’m not coughing up all my files to him.” 

Armsmaster just gave her a deadpan look, his armor faintly illuminating the alley behind the fast food restaurant. “You offered to set up this deal.” 

“I offered to take out Coil for you in exchange for letting us keep rolling as a team. I didn’t say I’d give you all his finances.” 

“He’s compromised the PRT somehow. This is crucial information, for everybody.”

“Yeah, and if I give you his files, I put the Undersiders in a financial deficit and in the PRT’s pocket. Not happening.” 

He raised a hand to rub at where his nose should have been under his helmet. “Tattletale, you have two wanted individuals on your team, tried to rob a bank, and have been stirring trouble in the city for the last several months. I should be arresting you on sight for having Bitch and Regent, but I’m only not because I think you’re about to be holding the Empire in check and were the least destructive gang in the city. You’ve been given immense leniency here, and I’m just asking that you not blow it.” 

Lisa shifted her look to Armsmaster, eyes narrowing. “You want us as a buffer zone.” 

He nodded. “The Empire will come back, eventually, and without the other gangs in the city, more will come in. The Undersiders have proven themselves an equalizing distraction in the criminal world, and the Protectorate is…willing to look the other way as long as you keep your activities limited to harassing other villains.” His mouth turned to a grimace. “Speaking of which, you all had something to do with the Merchants.” 

“Not us directly,” Taylor replied. 

“I’ll buy it for now. But…”

Lisa smirked. “We’ll tell you some details if you let us keep the files.” 

“You can keep his civilian files if you give us his mercenary network.” 

“You’ll really prefer to know his civilian life.” 

“I’ll take that as true, but giving you access to mercenaries might make this a federal issue, not a regional one. And if they’re nonpowered, the FBI would get involved. You’re not protected or sanctioned, a joint investigation would crack the Undersiders in half.” 

Taylor stepped forward, cutting Lisa off before she could say something else. “We’re not planning on taking over the city, or need the mercenaries. You can have them, if you do the research on his civilian side yourself.” 

“That’s acceptable. Tattletale?” 

She looked over at Taylor, silently asking for support, but Taylor just shook her head, knowing full well how empty the eyes of her mask looked. Lisa sighed and opened the document case she was carrying, pulling out a handful of papers. “His tinkertech supplier, and the records of some of his mercenaries. Going after them before we’ve gotten Alcott and, y’know, him, will just spook him and then everything will be wrong.” 

Armsmaster took the papers, silent as Taylor took over. “He’s got something else, too. The Travelers are in town on his budget, and he’s hiding something in his base. Some sort of trump card that he’s holding out for in case he’s beaten.” 

“There’s been rumors of the Travelers having something of that nature, but nothing we could ever confirm.” He nodded, stowing the papers in a compartment on his back. “Now for the Merchants.” 

“I wasn’t lying when I said we didn’t do that. I’m me, and we had nothing to gain from beating them.” Taylor swallowed. “But we do know who did. They’re who we used to confirm there was something in Coil’s base, not technically a member of the team, but they’ve been on jobs.” 

“Who?”

"A relative of Regent with, to quote him, ‘powers more like the family trick’.” 

Armsmaster sighed. “Of course there’s more of them.” 

“That one’s slightly better than Regent, anyway.” Lisa closed the case. “But that’s all we’re willing to give before we go after him. Will you be ready when we give the indicator?” 

“Indeed.” He looked around, gaze settling on Taylor’s waist and the collapsed glaive sitting there. “You will need to give that back soon.” 

She nodded. She liked having the module on her glaive, a reminder that she was still something like a hero, even if she didn’t look like it, but she’d have to lose it at some point, by degradation or by him taking it back. 

“Are you sure?” Lisa’s voice was in her insincerely pleading one. “I mean, it must be fun having something from her favorite.” She was making a face at Armsmaster, whose expression itself was shifting, and Taylor didn’t get it at all until he exhaled a little and tilted his head in consignment. 

“Alright, you can keep it until we bring in Coil. But give it back, afterwards. Every day you have that is more paperwork from hell that will need to be worked out.” He looked behind him, lights brightening on his armor. “I need to go. But this is a good deal. If you uphold your end, we can uphold ours.” 

Taylor nodded at the same time as Lisa, and he stepped out of the alley into the street, mounting his motorcycle and speeding off. Lisa smirked at her and began walking off, backdoor to the restaurant unlocked. “You’ve got to be insane, Bug.”

“It’s a much better plan than listening to Coil.”

“You’re also insanely lucky that he’s still trying to be subtle.” She chuckled. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Taylor didn’t watch her leave herself, the gaze of the bugs following Lisa through the door and into the room with the change of clothes before leaving her alone, grabbing her own bag with a change before beginning off toward the parking garage she’d been scoping out the entire time. It was completely empty as far as she could tell, which was pretty far, and she made her way inside and into a stairwell between the third and fourth floors to swap enough of her costume out to be inauspicious. 

She’d only just set the backpack down when somebody’s steps echoed through the garage. 

Her hand dropped to her glaive, ready to flick it out, and she tried to scrape together enough bugs to see who it was through the dark. All she got was a vague shape, male profile that she could barely pick out the light skin of. 

“I know you’re there, Stinger. Come on you.” 

The voice wasn’t smooth, but more slick, said with confidence and a faint familiarity that Taylor wasn’t quite sure she recognized or not. She kept her hand on the glaive, ready to snap it out, as she slowly exited the stairwell. 

“Who are you?” 

“Somebody who wants to see the lady with the spear.” She couldn’t quite make out his clothes, but he was definitely holding something. 

“If you’re trying to mug me, that’s a terrible idea.” 

“I’d never be so crass. Why not pull out some of those lightning bugs, so we can have a much easier chat?” 

She did, just so she could see what she was doing better. The barest flashes of orange filled the garage, illuminating all in front of her. 

Her breath caught in her throat. 

Jack Slash smiled, strangely calm. 

“I was hoping we could have a quick talk, Stinger.”

Chapter Text

Her glaive was out in a split second. 

“Oh, come on.” Jack Slash twirled the bayonet between his fingers. “I’m not even here to fight. I’m just here to talk.” 

“You’re Jack Slash. You’re always here to fight.” 

“It’s far more of an art, an experiment, than a fight. I have standards. And you do too, I think.” He gestured at her with his empty hand. 

Taylor blinked behind her mask. “What?” 

His smile would have been friendly if she didn’t know who he was. “I’ve seen some of your work, Stinger. A lot of people know it was you that took out the dragon and his gang, myself included, and I don’t think that there’s a person that doesn’t respect you for separating Leviathan from his tail. It really is impressive.” 

He sheathed the bayonet with a flourish. “And I do mean that. You’ve got a potent power, and the creativity to accompany it. Using your control over them to track where things are, how people move? Ingenious. I envy that level of awareness.” 

“What are you doing, stalling?” She began to send some bugs to check on the Undersiders, looking for the rest of the Slaughterhouse Nine. It was taking all her control not to start panicking right then. 

“Of course not! Shatterbird’s on her own time limit, I wouldn’t interfere with her performance. I’m simply here in advance, to give you a proposal.” 

“Is it to run?” 

Jack Slash actually laughed at her. “Once again, no. Actually, it’s much simpler. Just don’t interfere.” 

The other Undersiders were fine, as far as she could see through her bugs, but that caught her off guard. “Interfere? You’re the Slaughterhouse Nine, of course I would.” 

“Ah, ah, we’re not here as the Nine, in a sense. We’re not doing our normal exhibitions. This is, quite frankly, more of a business endeavor, experimental by our standards.” 

“Jesus, you’re getting paid?” Her glaive slumped to the ground. “Who the hell would hire the Slaughterhouse?” 

“I shouldn’t tell you, but it’s about your twitchy teammate. And that’s what I was going to say.” He cleared his throat, fiddling with the buttons on his open collar. “We have a job to do, hunting to resume. If you refrain from interference, I’ll instruct them to give you the same due, and we can reconvene afterwards.” 

What he was saying was starting to come together. “No. You’re insane.” She brandished the glaive at him, thumb over the plasma activator. “I’m not joining you. Never.” 

“You haven’t heard my offer yet.” “I don’t care for it.” 

“I’m going to give it anyway.” Jack adjusted his cuffs. “I think you have potential, Stinger. Really. 

But I think you’re wasting it here. You’ve carved pieces off an Endbringer, and you’re versatile to do so much more, I can tell. I just want to see what you can do with that creativity on the other side, the one that really matters.”

The tip of the glaive jabbed forward, inches from his face. “I’m not joining the fucking Slaughterhouse Nine,” Taylor hissed, words echoing through her bugs. 

“Oh, wow, you’re even more dramatic than people say you are.” Jack nodded approvingly. “Really, this is all good. You’d be a wonderful fit. And you would, really, be a good fit. Bonesaw could always use an older sister, and she’d love to have you around. As much as people misconceive our reputation, there’s no infighting here. We don’t betray each other, telling secrets behind backs. I wouldn’t stab you in the back.” 

“No, you’d just slice my throat.” 

He laughed again. “If we were all recruiting now, that’s exactly what I’d do! You took a piece from an Endbringer, so I’d try to break you into pieces! And I want to see how that holds up, especially when you have a choice between a fresh slate and all that drama. Because I know it has to be grating on you.” He reached up, gently pushing the tip of the glaive away. “The suspicion, constantly keeping your eyes out. Everybody here’s got their own motives, and they’re more than willing to drop you if you make a move against them. The Nine would never be so subtle. They’d think you were a villain that thought herself a hero, but that’s what I’d like to see, you know? How much you try to stick to it.  And I’d back you up if it came to it. That’s more than you get out here, isn’t it? 

She jabbed the glaive back at him, only knowing she’d nicked his fingers from her bugs suddenly smelling blood. “It’s none of your business. Now shut the hell up, now. Why should I not–” 

“Because then you don’t know when Shatterbird’s going to sing.” 

That got her attention, and he lowered the glaive with both hands. “Thank you. I’ve given you my offer. I do hope you consider it. And, as a token of my honesty, I will let you go and give a warning. You get to warn whoever you want, however many people you can, of Shatterbird’s performance. They may spread it to whoever they wish. I walk away, you walk away, and we begin the next part of the fun without stepping in each other’s path.” 

Taylor didn’t respond right away, thoughts racing. Armsmaster was already too far away, she couldn’t find him, but the loft wasn’t too far away, and neither was her father. If she could run fast enough, she could let them both know, and get everybody in between.

Jack nodded. “I thought so. The timer’s moving, remember.” 

She collapsed the glaive.

“You have fifteen minutes.” 

He slipped back into the darkness of the garage, steps fading out, and Taylor waited until it was quiet to scramble for her bag and dig her phone out while running for the loft. Bug clones took shape inside buildings and apartments as she ran, formed from whatever bugs she could find, all repeating the same message. “Shatterbird sings in fifteen minutes. Get to cover.” Over and over, in every building with people she could find as she kept running.

It was hard to hit the phone’s buttons while she was sprinting to get the loft in her range, but she had to. 

“Taylor? What is it?”

“Dad, get away from anything glass. Now, we barely have fifteen minutes.” 

“Shit.” Something scrambled in the background, and she kept listening as the bugs finally began to coalesce in Lisa’s office, while she was double-checking something on the papers. “Do you know where?”

“No, just that they’re all in the city. Call who you can and drop it all. I can’t come back now–”

“It is the Slaughterhouse Nine–” “And they’re after my friends and me, I’m not putting you in danger.” “They’re what?!” 

“I’ll run when I can. But I’m not putting you in danger.” She paused as Lisa stirred. “I love you, dad. I’ll see you soon.” 

“I love you too, Taylor.” 

He hung up as Lisa blinked at the cloud of bugs. She spoke through them first. 

“Hide your laptop.” 

“Coil doesn’t know yet, though?” 

“It’s worse.”

Chapter Text

The last thing Cherie expected to see when she walked out of her room for the first time in five days was Lisa smashing the TV screen on the floor.

Alec screeched in utter horror. 

“You’ll thank me later.” Lisa held out one hand, the other cradling her laptop. “Now give me your phone.”

“Lisa, if this is about the Marquis search history stuff—“ “I’ve known about that for ages, this isn't related. All of you, give me your phones.” 

Rachel glared at her in suspicion. “What do you want them for.” 

“Because they’re all going to explode in about ten minutes!” Lisa’s anxiety massively spiked, outright fear joining in. “The Slaughterhouse Nine is in town, and Shatterbird’s going to do her thing soon, so get all the glass off of you!” 

Everybody panicked at once, Alec literally throwing his phone at Lisa as Rachel patted herself down and tossed her the flip phone. Brian had already yanked the fridge open, tossing his phone inside and pointing at his helmet as Lisa dumped the phones and her laptop. 

“Your helmet should be fine, those companies get those fixed. I yanked the hard drives from the computer, so we didn’t lose anything. Now hurry up, costumes, all of you!” 

He nodded, grabbed it, and hustled upstairs, yelling for Aisha. Alec stared at her, incredulous. “Costumes? Us fighting the Nine? Lisa, we are not combat–” 

“That does not matter, because they are here! We’ll stick with the rules of the truce. I already called the PRT anyway.” She turned to Cherie. “Player.” 

Cherie obliged, handing it over. “Are they still using the same roster?” 

“Don’t know, I can’t tell that yet and why did you get the Shatterbird-proof one?” She blinked, handing the MP3 back to Cherie. “I mean, good call, but this is such a weirdly specific thing to–” She paused, disbelief charging into her emotions. “Oh, you’re fucking insane.” 

Lisa definitely knew, then. “It was a good plan at the time.” 

“No it wasn’t but I’m not going to tell you how stupid you are now.” Lisa glared at her as Brian came running down the stairs, throwing another phone and a bunch of earrings in the fridge. She ignored him. “If you have anything important to say, say it. Otherwise, stay out of the way as much as you can that doesn’t involve telling us where they are.” 

“Hatchet Face’s isn’t just an off button, it prevents you from starting in the radius. If you’re using ranged attacks outside the radius, it’ll still work. Burnscar has lucidity issues with her powers. And Bonesaw may as well be able to do anything involving a scalpel in some way.” 

“God, at least you did research.” Lisa shook her head. “I’m going to dig up my earrings and shades, and you can figure out what the hell you’re going to do.” She ran off toward her room, and Cherie looked over to see Alec with his shirt already half-buttoned. 

“There’s nothing wrong with running, you know.” 

“I know.” Cherie bristled. “But I needed to get out of here, and if the Nine are in the city, the odds are they’ll be looking for the smallest villains first and work their way up. They’d have started with the Merchants if they were still here.” 

“I need to watch the dogs.” Rachel pulled on her jacket, attention on Cherie. “Will the Nine go after them?” 

“No. Unless you dangle your power in front of Bonesaw, they won’t. They only deal with humans.” It was one of the reasons she thought she’d have fit, with what her power could and couldn’t do. And none of them were masters anyway. 

That reminded her of something, and she turned to face Lisa as the other tossed a bunch of earrings inside the fridge and slammed it shut. 

“The Siberian’s immune to any sort of disorient or master effects used on her. People have tried, nobody’s noticed. She’s like a master black hole.” 

Lisa blinked at her, confusion loud, before sharp satisfaction hit. “That is very useful to hear. Now what’s your plan?” 

“I don’t know.” And she didn’t think now was a good time to start throwing one together. 

“Whatever, you can–” 

The shards of glass around the TV started rattling, vibrating in sync. 

Taylor burst through the door to the loft followed by a figure in a white bodysuit and immediately hit the deck, dropping to the floor as everybody else did. 

Cherie heard the rest of the city’s music turn to horror and fear as the window exploded, and the fridge door audibly groaned under the impacts from inside. 

This wasn’t how she was supposed to meet them.

Chapter Text

Colin had thought he’d regret giving Tattletale a direct message line. 

But as his lab exploded from the other side of the blast doors, he was more grateful than he’d expected himself to ever be. 

He’d gotten the message barely ten minutes ago and had spent the entire time hitting alarm buttons, alerting the other heroes while he grabbed his Slaughterhouse countermeasures. The fact he’d chosen to relocate much of his work to PHQ instead of the Rig for expediency and ease of access was something he was grateful for, giving him access to better armor and the repaired version of his Endbringer halberd, plus the prototype microthorns in case he needed them. The Director had already given him clearance to pull out all the stops on his gear.

He fired off a message through his helmet to Dragon, an emergency request for help, and pulled up the Wards emergency channel. Like hell were any of them going out against the Nine. The acknowledgments were immediate, if reluctant, except from Clockblocker. He checked his location and–

Shit. 

His helmet intercepted the console channel immediately. 

“Clockblocker, I said to retreat, why the hell are you by the dock?” 

“Sorry, boss, I was trying to get Parian safe. Ran into her getting warned by Stinger, then I ran into Stinger again while I was making sure the civilians in the area were safe because of her bug clone thing, so I followed Stinger cause the PHQ was too far off and my timeline was short and–Bitch is glaring at me.” 

“Christ, Clockblocker. Are the Undersiders even going to fight?” 

“Tattletale and Stinger are nodding at me.” 

“Stick with them until you can regroup with the Protectorate. We’re scrambling. In the meantime, find New Wave. Make sure they’re safe, especially Panacea.” 

“Got it.” The call ended, and Colin started walking to catch back up with the others. Comms and vitals were still reading Miss Militia, Assault, and Battery as alive and well, and Dauntless still unconscious, but a call incoming from Dragon cut off his plan to check in with them. 

“Yes, Dragon? Did you find something?” 

“Colin, I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you now. We’ve got our own issue. Heartbreaker’s gone on the move again, with a large portion of his men and some sleeper police officers and troopers we didn’t know about, and we’re not sure where. I would like to help you, but–oh no.” 

“What?”

“Colin, turn on Channel 16.” 

“My monitors blew.” 

“Then they must hate you more than average.” 

A window appeared in the corner of his HUD, the newsroom for Channel 16 looking like something had tried tearing it in two. Jack Slash sat in a chair on the far right of the table, his legs kicked up on the desk as he balanced a knife on his knuckle. 

“Thank you very much, good cameraman. And hello to you, Brockton Bay!” He smiled, one that sent a chill down Colin’s spine as he made his way down to the console room. “I apologize for the suddenness of our arrival, but it just wouldn’t do for me to stop Shatterbird from performing her iconic hit. Besides, your TVs and most of your computers are intact, since she broke far less than usual, and likely tuned to this exact station.” 

He cleared his throat. “It’s good that you’re listening. Because unlike our usual affair, this is far less flippant. We’re here for a reason this time, and I thought it prudent to let you all know what it was.” 

The knife went into a sheath, and he swung his legs off the table. “We, well. We are artists, but even artists need to take commissions sometimes. Whether that be for money, exposure, or the fact that it’s a unique opportunity. Not unique for your city, but unique for us, I suppose. And let me introduce you to our patron–” 

The camera panned over right as Colin walked into the console room to see the same thing on the screen, the other three Protectorate heroes looking on in horror. A tall man in an opulent purple suit with black lining, gold studs and rings all down his sleeves and hands, and a gaze like everything disgusted him was looking at the camera, long dark hair filling out behind him as he sat on the other chair at the news desk. A man that Colin recognized too well.

“Mister Nikos Vasil, Heartbreaker himself!” 

Dragon’s avatar had frozen in the call, silent, and Colin slammed the shaft of his halberd on the floor to get the attention of the others. They turned, and he brushed past to the console, pulling up a map of the city with the news relegated to a side screen. 

“This is unbecoming of you.” Heartbreaker looked at Jack Slash, visibly annoyed. 

“Possibly, but it’s novel. We’ll see if it really worked afterwards. And I believe you had an announcement to make, regardless.” 

“True.” Heartbreaker looked back at the camera. “I have no quarrel with Brockton Bay, or your heroes. The Nine are here to establish a fact.” 

“Clockblocker’s with the Undersiders, and the Wards are all locked down. Emergency channels say they’re safe and in their homes.” Colin shouted over the speech. “Assault, contact Faultline. Get her services on board.” 

“Yeah, sure. If she’s still in town.” 

“I do not appreciate being challenged.” Heartbreaker’s voice was cold. “Much less by my own family. And two of my wayward children have decided to come here.” 

“Shit. Militia, with me. Assault, how’s Faultline?” 

“I only just called her.” “Try again, and see if they’re safe if she doesn’t pick up. If not, see if you can convince the Empire to come out for a truce. And make sure Dauntless is still safe.” “I never thought I’d want the Nazis to help.” Assault paused. “I don’t, I’d still take Faultline, but okay boss.”

He nodded and headed out to the side exit, aiming for the actual service entrance that the public didn’t know about. “We need to find the Undersiders, as fast as possible.”

Jack Slash cut in. “Now if those two kids decide to come forward, we’ll reunite you with your father and all the friends that have missed you. Else, we’ll keep looking. And we brought some friends of our own, but they might not arrive soon.” 

Something wet crunched in the background, and Jack Slash’s face dropped. “Bonesaw! Not now, we have guests.”

Heartbreaker looked back at the camera. “My forces are looking. The Nine are looking. This is proving a point to you all, that what is mine is mine.

“Jean-Paul, Cherie, I will find you.”

Jack Slash’s smile returned. “And we’re all going to make it look good.” 

He pulled out a blade and swung it at the camera in one motion, cutting the channel to static. 

Assault dropped the radio he’d been using. “Faultline picked up. She’s definitely not eager to defend some of Heartbreaker’s kids.”

“You and Battery, go get her. Forget the Empire, if she won’t stick her neck out they definitely won’t. Militia, we’re going to find the Undersiders.” 

She nodded at him at the same time Dragon sent him a message, indicating they were trying to take Heartbreaker’s group out while he was away. She’d try to send some suits in a few hours.

What then, he wasn’t sure.

Chapter Text

Alec hadn’t felt his stomach drop like that in a long time.

The TV in the cafe was screaming static from the newly dead channel, annoying and colorful. He was just standing in the doorway, still watching the screen while Clockblocker and the others tried to triage everybody inside that had been hit by Shatterbird destroying the windows.

Dad was here. Probably with one of the militias he’d put sleepers in, and he’d brought the Slaughterhouse god damn Nine. He was here for him and Cherie, picking them up and dragging them back home.

On one hand, not happening.

On the other, Slaughterhouse Nine.

“Alright.” Clockblocker’s voice was shaking the tiniest bit. “I can’t suggest going to the hospitals yet, until we make sure the Nine aren’t going for them, so you all should hunker down here or somewhere around here. The PRT will start moving through soon, so you can get proper medical attention. Everybody got that?” 

Nods and groans of assent from the civilians, and Clockblocker gave them a cocky wave before heading back out, everybody following behind. He looked over at Cherie, visibly shaken and shaking outside the restaurant, and looked back over at Taylor. “Who exactly is she?” 

“My sister,” Alec replied. 

He couldn’t see Clockblocker’s expression, but he could see the posture tensing. “Oh, fuck, we need to get you two out of here.” 

“Not a good plan. Heartbreaker will not stop until they’re either his or dead, and neither will his soldiers.” Lisa looked around, sighing in frustration. “We need to link up quickly, is what needs to happen. The Nine are a problem, but there’s another thing we need to stop before they get here.” 

“How important?” “Armsmaster knows.” 

Taylor looked at her in panic, and Lisa shrugged. “Bug, they knew it was coming. We need to make our negotiations with the boss now, because otherwise things will get messy.” 

Cherie gasped behind him, and Alec spun around to see what she was worried about. “What is it?” 

“I can hear them. I don’t remember their names, but they’re looking for us. Off in the northeast, by where the ABB used to be.” 

“They’re going by where they think the Undersiders were hiding.” Lisa snapped her fingers. “We need to split off, fast. The sooner we find the heroes, the sooner we can drop you guys. In fact, you two should split up.” 

Cherie blinked at her. “I don’t have a mask–” 

“It’s past time to give a shit, Cher, most people know who you are.” Alec looked her in the eyes. “Do you have a name?” 

“Had one, but it’s, it’s not good.” 

“You said you hadn’t made one.” “I was holding out. It’s not something to say now, it’s like his anyway, just a derivative off of that. It was meant for an ensemble.” 

He didn’t get what that meant, but Lisa rolled her eyes. “Sure, that’s a good plan. Great ensemble you wanted to join.” 

“Shut. Up.” Cherie glared at her. “What else–” 

“Not the time.” “Not now.” Taylor and Clockblocker looked at each other, confused at the synchronization, and she took charge. “You can sort it out later, your identity’s kind of open anyway.” 

Cherie grimaced, and Alec twitched some random muscles in her face to snap her out of it before Taylor started moving, swarms of bugs moving through the air all around and in the distance. 

Clockblocker looked very uncomfortable with it. That wasn’t his problem. 

He had bigger things to fear and fear for.

Chapter Text

Amy heard the entire broadcast through the radio. 

It was good that Carol had turned that on instead of the TV when Shatterbird hit, at least. 

Mark had run upstairs and grabbed everybody’s costumes the second the radio went off, tossing them to everybody as he came back in the kitchen, and Carol pulled the emergency bars out of the cabinet. “Eat, now.”

Vicky shook herself out of the semi-stupor she’d been in and looked at Carol. “I know where the Undersiders are.” 

Carol whipped around so fast it was impressive. “How, and how is that important?” 

Vicky looked at Amy, uncertain, and Amy just nodded. She returned the nod and looked to Carol. “My friend Alec’s Regent, I’ve known since Leviathan, and him and Charlotte are Heartbreaker’s children that he’s after.” 

Neither of her parents moved in the wake of Vicky saying that, staring in shock, until Carol threw the costume at her. “We’ll talk about you making friends with villains later. Where are they?” 

“Close to the docks, kind of out of the way. They’re basically the only building by the warehouse that didn’t get messed up. I think.” Vicky stared at her costume for a second before glancing up at Carol, but Amy beat her to it by grabbing the spare pair of pants her costume never actually used and tossed them to her. 

Amy herself was pulling on the base level of her costume, tying most of the robes around her limbs to keep them clear. It wasn’t the most practical, but she wasn’t meant to be in a combat zone anyway, and the whole city was going to be one giant battlefield now. 

She knocked on the fridge door, grabbing Carol’s attention, and pointed. “Should I grab some mass?” 

“Already got some,” Mark replied. “I was saving tissue samples in the freezer. If you need to heal somebody without enough fat, let me know.” 

A sigh of relief escaped her and Carol at the same time, and Vicky pulled on her jacket and tiara and floated over to the front door, opening it a peep before looking back at the kitchen. “Outside’s clear, for now.” 

Mark finished up pulling on his costume and readied himself to throw, posture tensing, at the same time Carol began jamming buttons into her phone. It stayed ominously silent for a second Carol pulled it to her face. 

“Sarah? Thank god. Are you all okay?” 

Mark moved to the door besides Vicky, still tense, as Carol kept talking. “We’re all fine. Far and clear of the windows. Did you hear the news?” 

Something that sounded like a no to Amy’s ears came through. “Heartbreaker’s with the Nine, looking for members of the Undersiders. Their base is by the docks, so we’re going to try and find them and get them to the Protectorate before he does.” 

That was a very clear noise of indignation. “I don’t want to either, but this entire city is a battlefield, and our children were going to be in danger. There are no choices to be made here. Just what’s going to happen.” 

More conversation that Amy couldn’t make out, and Carol hung up, slipping the phone into a belt pocket. “Sarah, Crystal, and Eric are going to find the Protectorate, then us. We’ll all end up in the same place anyway.” 

Amy nodded, an action mirrored by everybody, and Vicky opened the door. Mark stepped out, arms raised and moving at a jog, and Carol moved out with Amy right behind her. Vicky shut the door and held up the rear, floating and letting off the smallest factor of intimidation from her aura. 

For the aftermath of Shatterbird, the city was surprisingly okay. The cars that had been coming back after Leviathan destroying half the roads were all shattered, car alarms blaring, and a few people were dragging bags and limp bodies out of more open buildings or from cars into apartments and alleys, the panic quiet but still there. A few people stumbled toward them, asking for help, and Amy patched up the surface level cuts and easy fixes as fast as she could. A handful of people with deeper, more severe injuries were pleading for help, and she put on temporary fixes, sealing arteries and numbing pain. She could check the rally points and relief places later, once things were more organized. She didn’t want to know what would happen if Bonesaw found out what she could do. 

A gunshot went off, the sound distant, and Carol elbowed her. She nodded, taking the hand of one last person with a scattering of cuts on his head, and began to heal it. 

His grip tightened, and he pulled her close, hissing into her ears. “Where is Regent?” 

Her lips tightened under the scarf, preparing to flood his system with sedatives, but his face glowed before a hardlight club hit him in the head, his grip slipping off her hand as Carol grabbed him by the shirt. “What was he doing?”

“He asked where Regent was. I think he’s one of Heartbreaker’s.” 

Vicky flew over and took him out of Carol’s grasp, dragging him over to the house that other people on the block had been hiding in, exchanging a few words with the people inside before dropping him inside the door and returning to the rest of the Dallons. “They’re going to watch him. Told them that if no other heroes come by in the next few hours, contact the PRT on the emergency frequencies or otherwise. Not the cape frequency, the civilian one.” She looked around, flying upwards for a second before coming back down. “I didn’t see any of the Undersiders, or the Nine, but we should still hurry. It’s this way.” She started going down the street, and the three of them followed. 

They got a block before Assault and Battery stumbled out of a building Amy recognized as the Palanquin. 

Assault smiled exhaustedly. “New Wave! Half of you, at least. Where are the others?” 

“Looking for the Protectorate.” Carol glanced down the street in confusion. “Where are Armsmaster and Miss Militia?” 

“Looking for the Undersiders and Clockblocker. We’ve told the Wards to hunker down, but…” He grimaced. “I hope they stay. Seeing them against the Nine would be shit.” 

Battery pointed to the Palanquin. “Faultline’s unwilling to cross Heartbreaker. Unless the Empire shows up, it’ll be us and the Undersiders.” 

“I know where their base is.” Vicky gestured to Amy. “We were heading there.” 

“I’ll let Armsmaster know. Lead the way.” 

Amy pulled her scarf higher. 

It shouldn’t have been this quiet.

Chapter Text

“I’m pretty sure something’s on fire down there.” 

Sophia pulled the bolt out of the not-quite-dying Heartbreaker goon and glanced over at Chris. “No shit.” 

“If you’re worried about smoke inhalation, just don’t be.” Missy peered over the edge of the building Chris was keeping watch from. “That’s far enough away, and I can make it all go away.” 

“I’m not worried about smoke inhalation, I’m worried because that’s Burnscar.” He stood and glanced at the next street over, reaching up to adjust his visor, and sighed in relief. “It’s not spreading, I think. We’re just close, going by the smoke and temperature.” 

“Well then let’s get away.” Sophia reset the bolt in her crossbow, wiping the blood off with the end of her cloak and adjusting the weapon’s grip in her hands. “I’m not fighting Burnscar until we find where the hell Clock went.” 

“I thought you were all about going off on your own–” “I’m not insane, Vista. I’m not going to fight any of them on my own, even though they deserve it more than any of the shitheads this city has to offer.” And reluctant as she was to admit it, Burnscar was a bad match for her, from the weird way her fire worked to the fact Sophia was still a little under the weather from her lungs being filled with water. But to hell with the idea she was going to sit around while the Nine and Heartbreaker were in Brockton Bay. At least her and Missy agreed on that much. It hadn’t even taken them twenty minutes to get to it, without Armsmaster even noticing.  

Chris picked up his hoverboard and stepped off the edge of the building, kickflipping it under himself before he was a third down the drop. It didn’t kick up any dirt, just floating there with a faint hum, and he stared at the weird piece of tinkertech he’d cooked up last week before pocketing it and reaching for his guns. “Clockblocker’s radio’s getting closer. We should go.” 

“Shouldn’t we be dropping these guys off somewhere?” Missy pointed at the unconscious and bleeding body resting against a fire hydrant. “They could wake back up.” 

“And what’s he gonna do, crawl back to Heartbreaker?” Sophia rolled her eyes. “Kid, you’re marking them, right?” 

“Locations, times, how wounded they are.” He nodded. “Plus quick searches. Apparently some of them are militia members that the Canadian government’s been trying to find for a while.” 

“Good enough for me.” Sophia climbed back up the fire escape, looking over the top of the building once she arrived. “If they wanted us being careful, they should have called us.” 

“They don’t even know we’re here, Stalker. They think we’re at home.” 

Sophia didn’t respond, just tilting her head out past him, and Chris flew off on his hoverboard. She and Missy followed close behind, herself turning to shadow and drifting between rooftops and Missy twisting the space between buildings to get her to the other side. The other girl had been cooperative since they’d grouped up, twisting the space to help Sophia make jumps she otherwise would have missed, and she appreciated it. If they were going to get work done, they had to get to it, and Missy had picked a few fights. It was respectable. 

They passed a handful of other suspiciously calm looking people, only a few of them holding radios or something similar, but nobody tried to hurt them. They didn’t see any members of the Nine, either, but that didn’t mean anything apart from Crawler and Burnscar weren’t following them. Chris kept glancing over to see if the fire had gotten bigger, but judging from how he kept on flying, they were fine for now. 

Missy stopped in the middle of a destroyed rooftop greenhouse. “There’s something weird. About…there.” She pointed down, at something a few blocks over. “It’s like a bunch of static, little gaps in my power moving around.”

Chris slowed to a hover right next to her, gazing down at the same spot behind his visor. “Lots of movement down there, and Clockblocker’s radio is kind of close to it. I think it’s Stinger.” 

Sophia groaned. Of course he was getting jumped by the Undersiders. “Is this where we have to go save his ass? We might get him to shut up about all those Stinger jokes now.” 

“The Undersiders have a history of following the truce and have only very rarely engaged heroes. If he’s with them, it’s because they’re working together for now.” Chris immediately contradicted that by flipping the safeties off his guns. “Let’s go find him.” 

For once, Sophia was off first, turning to shadow and floating down to street level. She could see the bugs now, shuffling around in circles and dipping in and out of buildings, and kept herself as far away from them as possible. A glance behind her showed that Missy was literally piggybacking off Chris as he flew down on his hoverboard, and she rolled her eyes best she could in shadow before continuing. They had a solid idea of Stinger’s range of control, so jumping through a few buildings would be enough to get her close and shoot if they’d kidnapped Clockblocker, and keep them in line if not. 

Chris floated over to beside her before she could try and jump through some rubble, letting Missy down off his back. “Clockblocker stopped moving, and he’s only a block away. The other heroes are getting close too, from their radios.” 

The bugs around them all froze at once before chittering, the same pattern from all of them. It took Sophia a second to realize they were speaking. “Wait…almost there.” 

Missy shuddered. “Fuck that.” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” 

Sophia spun to see Tattletale standing at the end of the block, the rest of the Undersiders, Clockblocker, and several very large dogs standing behind her. “Stinger doesn’t quite get how weird it is for everybody else.” 

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Dennis pushed past her to yell at the three of them. “You should all be at home or with the Protectorate, not hunting down Heartbreaker.”

“You didn’t answer, and there’s no point to waiting.” Sophia waved her crossbow to get the point across. “We’re going to fight. It’s our job, and if anybody deserves to get a bolt through them, it’s the Nine and Heartbreaker.” 

Dennis dropped his head to stare at the ground, muttering under his breath. Sophia could still hear it though. “Absolutely insane, my team, I’m supposed to be keeping you all alive and–” He looked up at Chris. “Why are you here?” 

“Of course I’d stick with the other Wards.” He glanced off to the side, then back at Dennis. “Good news is, everybody’s about to be here.” 

Half of New Wave landed in a bit of a light show barely a second after he said that, followed by the other half and the Protectorate coming from two separate directions. 

Sophia tightened her grip. 

Time to start the hunting party.

Chapter Text

“Who are we going to fight first?” 

Armsmaster stared at Rachel in confusion for a second before he realized what she meant. “Nobody, probably not now.”

“Good, because we have our own thing.” Lisa gestured to him, scared but confident to Cherie’s ears. “You can explain your plan first though.”

Armsmaster was equally confident, but not to arrogance. “I don’t think that it’s a stretch to say we don’t want Heartbreaker getting his children back. I’m aware of Regent’s power, but you–” 

Alec raised a hand. “Her range is bigger than mine.” He didn’t even call her more powerful, an omission grating on her almost as much as the fact he seemed to be feeling nearly defensive. 

“Well, that’s concerning.” Armsmaster twirled his halberd, anxiety slipping away a bit. “In that case, we can’t let either of you get close to Heartbreaker. We have anti-Master precautions in place at the bases, with Dragon inbound to remotely supervise to ensure you don’t try anything. Was this planned by either of you?”

“Hell no,” Alec snapped. “I’m not sticking myself under his thumb again. I wouldn’t have run off otherwise.” 

His gaze turned from Alec to her, interrogative and anxious, slightly scornful. Probably of however innocent she looked like she was trying to appear as. 

Cherie tried to clear her throat before speaking. “Wasn’t me. I…would’ve wished to do something, but he could do it because he’s–” 

She couldn’t say he was better, didn’t want to, and Armsmaster slowly leaned back in subdued confusion before looking over at Taylor. She just shrugged in reply. “She’s been having a rough few days.”

“I won’t ask. Regardless, would you two do something if you were moved to the PHQ or Protectorate headquarters for safety?” Alec shook his head and Cherie did the same, with less energy than he had, and Armsmaster nodded. “Good. We can’t leave the city unattended, but–” 

“Yeah, can’t happen.” Lisa stepped to the side, still in front of the Undersiders but not next to Taylor. “The Undersiders can’t go hunting. I don’t know how much you guys know, but Coil has something in his base that we cannot afford the Nine getting. I’m not sure of quite how bad it is, but it’s bad enough.” 

Was that what she had heard during Leviathan’s attack? She could hear it now, but if Lisa knew, nothing she suggested would help. 

“Understood. Can you delay dealing with it?”

“Not a chance. If Coil’s that confident in it, and it’s keeping the Travelers in his pocket, then we need to tie it off now.” 

“Were you intending to do something about it later?” Battery glared at her, annoyed and a little betrayed. “Because this feels like you’re trying to escape the fight.”

“They’re not.” Armsmaster cut her off. “I’ll trust you on this, especially if you can bring in the Travelers afterwards, but work fast. We are dealing with the Nine here.”

“Good. Oh, by the way, he hasn’t brought any of his other kids. Too scared of them running off, too.  This is him trying to make a statement, an assertion of his authority. Nobody steals from him, or gets away. But that does make everybody’s jobs easier.” Lisa whistled, jerking a thumb behind her. “In the meantime, we gotta get on to some renegotiation. Grue, Bitch, let's go.”

He was suspicious, but Cherie let it be as they walked off, hopping onto the dogs after they turned the corner back down the route to the loft. Taylor stayed behind, drawing looks, but Armsmaster sounded vindicated before he spoke. “You’re staying?” 

“It’s…more dangerous for me to be by the Undersiders. I want to help out here.” 

He smirked a little before closing the mouth hatch on his helmet. “Excellent. In that case, I have a plan. We need to keep Regent and…Ms. Vasil away from Heartbreaker, meaning we should keep them separate until they’re at Protectorate headquarters. New Wave, can you be trusted to escort them?” 

Lady Photon nodded. “Would you rather we fly them over?”

“No. You would attract attention, from Heartbreaker’s men or Shatterbird and the others that can see you. Wait until you’re at dockside to start flying.” He pointed to Lady Photon and her side of New Wave. “Pelhams, you’ll be on duty to escort Regent, accompanied by Miss Militia for Protectorate radio connection. Dallons, I will be accompanying you to escort Ms. Vasil. Assault and Battery, you will be accompanying the Wards and Stinger in dealing with Heartbreaker’s men and the other members of the Nine–get down!” 

Cherie barely picked up on the sheer malicious intent before a swarm of glass shards whirled above Armsmaster’s head, breaking against hardlight shields from Shielder and Lady Photon. Anger and hatred, more volatile than anything she’d seen in the city before, started sprinting over from barely two blocks away, and she jolted a finger in that direction before a grappling chain embedded itself in the street besides Taylor and the hatred sped up, glee that didn’t sound sane at all bleeding in. 

“Go!” Armsmaster yelled. 

The Dallons took off, and Cherie could hear everybody else running away too as she followed them. She couldn’t tear her focus off Mannequin, on how muted yet how absolutely insane he was. Barely there, a thin stripe of neon compared to the overt malice, swatch of bright, that was Shatterbird. 

She didn’t know if she ever would have been able to manipulate him.  

Chapter Text

Colin had taken outnumbered engagements before, but not to this level. 

The only upside he saw was that the Nine weren’t sandbagging. 

Presumably. 

Shatterbird cackled, hovering above a building with shards of glass floating around her, and Mannequin was staring him down through a blank faceplate, pulling back the grapple chain that Colin had just slashed out of the ground into his arm. 

One of those problems was a lot easier to resolve than the others. 

He shifted his grip on his halberd, flipping a switch above the grapple operation and aiming  above. The head shifted, and he pulled the whole thing up to his shoulder, armor adjusting his aim for him. Mannequin extended blades from the sides of one arm and lunged, far too graceful for something so large, and the microthrusters dodged him back as he fired. 

A bolt of condensed plasma speared straight through Shatterbird’s diaphragm, fading out before it could exit the other side, and he fired two more blasts at her as he dodged another swing from Mannequin. She coughed, blood coming out in gasps while the glass around her began to drop, and she glared at him before flying off back the way she’d come. Colin ducked, avoiding another swing from Mannequin’s blade, flipping the switch back and pulling the halberd back into its proper form. He’d ditched the plasma ejectors in favor of the blaster, and it wasn’t suitable against any of the Nine. 

He wasn’t prepared. But it would have to do. 

The shift finished, and he swung the halberd up, feinting a block on the next blow. Mannequin reversed, entire torso spinning as he swapped direction, but Colin kept the swing going over his head and behind. The halberd jolted as Mannequin’s blade hit it, and he fired the grapple into the ground, jumping into a flip and pushing through it with the microthrusters. Mannequin pulled, trying to get out, and Colin tightened the cable around the joint it had wrapped around. He knew it wouldn’t cut through the casing, but it would be an effective bait to lead into getting that arm off him. 

And then the arm detached from the elbow joint and exploded. 

Colin went flying back, retracting the grapple to avoid machinery strain, and unsteadily landed on his feet after the armor pulled some readjustment maneuvers. He looked up, and immediately brought up the halberd as Mannequin jabbed forward with a blade poking from his palm. He deflected, head of the halberd knocking it away, and brought up the other end of the shaft to knock away the other blow from the blades out of the side of Mannequin’s arms. The swings started coming faster, Mannequin moving with the grace of something without worry for stamina or flexibility, and Colin tried to block, thrusters firing to engage dodges or parries in time, but Mannequin only got faster. 

A flurry of slashes came for him from the arm with blades out of the side, fluid and relentless, and Colin knew he was on the back foot. Edges began scraping against his armor, not quite piercing but still marking, and he improvised, lashing out with an armor-boosted snap kick to knock the arm away. 

It soared above him, and he heard the sound of an explosion before the blades bit into his shoulder. 

His HUD lit up with indicators of where the armor was breached, how deep it was, which painkillers it was firing off, and he took them in for a second before dismissing them. His arm was still on, but the blades had gone deep into the muscle of his shoulder, and as he dodged to dislodge it the wound thrummed even through the painkillers. He had to go for the kill now, or he wouldn’t make it out. 

Colin flicked his wrist as he double-tapped the grapple button, casting the entire head of the halberd off as the plasma blaster overloaded. Mannequin sidestepped it, flicking the blood off his blade like a taunt, but Colin just glanced at a button in his HUD and the head teleported to right in front of Mannequin before it blew. Searing plasma roiled over polymer, boiling at joints and faint seams, and Mannequin stumbled back as Colin pulled the other head out of a compartment and jammed it onto the shaft, giving it a test rev before swinging. 

The microthorns weren’t as potent as the nanothorns, hundreds of times larger and limited from scratching the most durable things, but they were far easier to repair, use, and Mannequin did not count as one of those durable things. Black-gray mist thrummed around the head, as he swung it, cleaning into Mannequin’s arm and sticking deep before the monster before him could properly thrash away. Another rev, and he was all the way through, polymer and circuit dropping to the ground as Mannequin stepped back down an arm. 

Colin couldn’t see his face, but he was sure any fury Mannequin was feeling was aimed at him as the tinker lunged forward with the blade from his palm, forcing Colin into a backpedal to dodge. 

It wasn’t fast enough as Mannequin’s hand exploded and his left eye became pain. 

His HUD vanished into static, and Colin staggered back, barely stifling a scream as he tried to parry with half his remaining vision taken up by a mangled glass. Emergency measures kicked in, the glass ejecting from his helmet as the mouthguard remained, and he prayed the firmware thruster code wouldn’t pick now to decay as he kept dodging and parrying swings. Mannequin’s swings were more vicious now, faster, as he’d ejected blades out of the side of the arm that had formerly held the blade, and he was throwing in kicks that Colin knew were powerful even without any sort of analysis. He was a threat to the creature before him, unlike Leviathan. 

He could kill this one. 

The microthorns revved with each parry, slicing a sliver off the blade, a little more off Mannequin’s already scorched casing, and he ignored the scratches and cuts appearing on his own arms and legs. He was barely standing through grit, the pain from his eye barely nullified by a dangerous amount of painkillers, and he had to end this fast, if he could. 

Mannequin swung, going to wide, but Colin didn’t realize what was coming until his blade struck the ground and two inhuman legs struck him in the chest, launched from a levered crouch. The halberd dropped from his grip, clattering to the ground, and Mannequin leaned down over him. 

Colin could almost see the malice dripping off the scratches in the blank faceplate as it tilted, gazing at him. 

He punched him in the torso, eye blazing with defiance. 

Mannequin barely flinched, pulling back up to full height. 

Something glowed in Colin’s vision at the same time he heard the thrum of gravitic tinkertech, and Mannequin stumbled back under a lightning bolt tinged with blue.

He staggered again, more bolts and shockwaves, and Colin turned his head to see a thankfully awake, costumed, and arclance-wielding Shawn, Dauntless, next to Chris, Kid Win, who was holding something he didn’t recognize, pieces of his hoverboard and guns merged with the alternator cannon he’d been working on, blasting Mannequin with what he realized were gravity pulse-amplified high energy lasers as Shawn fired more bolts and scorched his casing. He turned to look at Colin for just a moment.

“Go!” 

Sheer fury flooded Colin as Mannequin made a swing for Chris, barely missing the Ward as Chris stumbled back to dodge. He pulled himself upright, punching in the thruster boost command through his glove buttons and hitting the halbert redundancy commands with the back of his other hand. The thrusters fired, shoving him forward, and he moved into a stance as the halberd teleported back into his hands. 

Shawn and Chris both fired one more time, the cannon sparking and smoking as a shockwave sent Mannequin skidding along the pavement.

And into the microthorn blades. 

A blank face spun, owl-like, and Colin snarled. 

“You won’t get any more.” 

He pushed, revving the blade, past the flailing blades and chains and hissing explosive gas popping in sparks, and through Mannequin’s torso. 

Fluid like rotten embryo spilled onto the street, mixed with the pulped remains of organs and tissue and the top half of Mannequin’s now limp body, and Colin looked over at Chris. His hoverboard was mostly functional, but the guns were fried, and the cannon was a mangled mess. 

“Did it work?” He asked. 

Chris nodded. “I figured it out.”

Shawn walked over to him, catching his shoulder before he fell. “I woke up in time.” 

That smug bastard. 

"Let's go before Heartbreaker's soldiers find us," he grunted. "I can stand, Dauntless. We just need to go." 

Shawn nodded, and Chris took a few steps behind him, pieces of his hoverboard tucked under his arm.

A new, ambitious tinker, with a new idea of what he could do. Alive.

One down, and already worth his eye.

Chapter Text

Alec had a hunch things were about to get worse when Miss Militia answered her radio. 

“Go, console.” She held up a hand to halt New Wave and him, listening before her eyes went wide and she looked around. “Armsmaster, Dauntless, and Kid Win killed Mannequin, and Shatterbird’s been injured.” 

Laserdream looked like she was about to cheer, Lady Photon and Shielder equally happy, but Militia held up her hand to stop them before they could continue. “The Wards are being pursued by Heartbreaker’s soldiers, and Assault and Battery are looking for Bonesaw and Jack Slash, but Crawler and Siberian are in the wind. We’re looking for damage we think might be them.” 

How the hell were they not tracking that? He had a better bead on some of Heartbreaker’s men than they did on the giant tentacle beast, somehow. 

Miss Militia froze, tensing up. “There’s another broadcast going out. From Jack Slash.” 

“Well, we’ve got to hear this.” 

Shielder sent him a confused look as Miss Militia lowered the radio and held it out for everybody to hear. Huh, maybe he should’ve tried dyeing his hair. 

The radio crackled to life with Jack Slash’s voice. “Okay, I’ll be taking that as a sign that you don’t want to hand over the kiddos.” 

Silence sat for a second, awaiting a response, and he continued once it was clear he wouldn’t get one. “I expected this. I did. I warned Nikos, but he really thought you’d listen. It’s fine with me, though, because I wanted to try something new for this!” 

He chuckled, darkly. “I’d have Bonesaw here to make the announcement herself, but she’s still a little busy.” 

Something that definitely had a vaguely human nervous system entered his control range, staggering through the front door of a building, and he spun around to try and see what it was. Miss Militia spun with him, power forming into a handgun. And immediately shifting into a bigger one at the sight. 

“See, she’s always been so fascinated by powers, and who would I be to not help? So, we borrowed help from a certain member and some volunteers to test.” 

There was a human nervous system, but it was barely visible under the thing in the streets. One arm was vomit-green and scaled over, the rest of the body shifting and bulging under the skin. Alec could barely make out anything of what was a human under the tumors, scars, and twisting muscle, all tearing through what once looked to be ragged clothes, and a twitching, deformed line of stitches on their head.

“Crawler’s power is fascinating, I must say. People adapt in such strange ways.” 

The thing let out a noise between a screech and a roar, and stumbled forward towards Alec. Miss Militia began firing, slowing it but not stopping, and he tried to make it twitch as much as he could as Laserdream threw her lasers in the mix. 

Jack Slash kept talking as they kept shooting, and Alec kept moving back away from the thing. Shielder flew in, crashing a forcefield into the thing, but it just grabbed him and dug its claws in. He summoned another shield and swung it into its skull, snapping bone and dropping the thing to the ground, twitching. Laserdream and Lady Photon kept blasting, and Miss Militia summoned a shotgun to keep firing. Alec finally got control over the legs, and kept it in place even as the broken spine repaired itself. The skin around the head finally fell to ash from all the laser blasts, even as the rest of its body was far less marred, and the nerves faded out as it died.

“These little things are conditioned, primed, and instructed to do what we were paid for, all thanks to generous donations from Crawler and Bonesaw. I had hoped to do this part myself, but if it needs to be done remotely, I can deal with that.” 

Alec could tell he was smirking behind the radio. “Cherie and Jean-Paul, good luck.” 

“And Stinger, I still want to have that talk.” 

The radio clicked to silent, and Miss Militia brought it back up to her face as New Wave gave him confused looks. He shrugged. “Stinger’s been here for months, and she is not insane enough to join the Slaughterhouse.” 

“Whatever, she’s outnumbered by Wards anyway.” Miss Militia got off the radio. “Armsmaster is out of commission, but he’s vouching for her, and Assault and Battery are doubling down on their pursuit of Bonesaw since Faultline’s staying out of this. The PRT is pre-emptively calling these things Shamblers, and we are clear to kill. That goes for everything, including Heartbreaker-associated militiamen. And we are getting you out of this city, Regent.” 

He nodded, attention elsewhere. A handful of men he recognized rounded the street corner, their nerves bright and clear, and he waved his hand right as they began raising their guns. They all fell to the ground at once, limbs immobilized by his control, and he looked over to Miss Militia. “I think there’s more incoming.” 

Lady Photon started flying again, leading them on, and Alec followed with his mind halfway to something else besides keeping the soldiers locked in place. Crawler zombies were not wanted whatsoever, something he didn’t want to deal with, but he’d stuck through Leviathan to make it up to Vicky. He didn’t want to leave her again, but it was what he’d feared, dad bearing down on her home because he was there. It would be better for her to run, but he wanted to stay, to keep what he’d come to like.

Cherie was still here, too. Still trying to get out from under dad’s thumb. And if she didn’t get the chance now, she never would. 

Sometimes he hated what he’d come to care about. 

“Slow down,” he shouted. “I need to take a detour.” 

Neither of them were dying here.

And he had an idea of how to do it. 

Chapter Text

Cherie could hear it all. 

The things, Shamblers, were bound knots of rage, barely anything else left in them besides the need to hunt her down. And they were everywhere, no clear centralized location where they came from, terror of the rest of the city slowly getting worse as the things went on and out. Mercenaries and soldiers from him, dad, were all over the city too, clusters of loyalty and focus that were familiar to her. Not on a personal level, but they were there. 

It would have made her feel a little safer from them if she wasn’t with the Dallons. 

Victoria wasn’t mad at her, just on edge from the Nine and him being near, but Cherie being near was certainly not helping. There were spikes of annoyance, and paranoia, not just borne of her but sounding like they were caused by something else, and she didn’t know what. 

Amy was better and worse, scared but with a tiny, dense core of hope poking through. She hadn’t even looked at Cherie, just ducking inside buildings to check on people that needed healing, and the rest of New Wave wasn’t much better, Flashbang focused on things that weren’t her and Brandish seething under a calm exterior. But Amy was the worst, ready to snap if something shot that little core. 

Gunfire popped off a few blocks away, closer than the rest scattered across the city, but she wasn’t listening to it. It was just more of the soldiers, something she didn’t want to acknowledge, or wanted to risk being close to. He was never too professional about it, but if there were radios, she’d be caught. 

A spike of sad, bitter sorrow ran through Amy, and Cherie glanced over to meet her gaze before Amy looked away and down at the ground. There was resentment there, aimed at Cherie, but a bit of shame at herself, and that same feeling Cherie had been trying to exploit all this time getting pushed down. She’d have pulled on it if her plan hadn’t been dead.

That low pulse was a taunt, every minuscule flare or change a reminder of what she hadn’t been able to do, the changes she couldn’t make. It was a bullet she had wiped clean, loaded, aimed, and yet still couldn’t hit her because the trigger was out of her reach. Amy had gotten better, more freedom, less stress, less worrying about herself, and it was Cherie’s fault.

She should have been peeling out of the Bay with Amy in tow weeks ago. If she could have. 

Survivalism-tinted resolve in a second story window darkened to fanaticism, and Cherie barely scrambled out of the way in time as a bullet grazed Brandish’s shoulder. Hardlight bucklers popped into being around both of them, with a distant clatter and subsequent detonations explaining the sudden unconsciousness. 

“Jesus, how many of these people are there?” Victoria lamented. “If they organize themselves, we’re going to be dealing with knockoff PRT teams. Heartbreaker didn’t take any capes, did he?”

“He hired the Slaughterhouse Nine.” Brandish dispelled the shields. “But otherwise, no. He must have implanted sleepers before announcing himself.”

Flashbang’s gaze drifted over to Cherie, and she weakly shrugged. This wasn’t familiar to her, he had never gone to war like this. 

A sudden shift in a cluster of people to the west made her suck in a breath in fear. One of them changed completely, a core of devotion wrapping up and around before calm and eagerness filled out the surface. The same happened to the other four one at a time, each growing more fearful than the last before ending up as the same tune she’d heard so many times, faithful thralls.

It took her a split second to realize that the empty island next to all of them was dead to her power. 

“ Merde, no, no, no. ” 

Victoria looked down at her. “Cherie?” 

“He’s taking people. Far to the west.” 

Brandish’s anger sharpened. “We’re not stopping anymore.” 

Amy’s worry climbed, and Victoria looked over at her, matching the change herself. Cherie looked between them, hearing how Amy’s fear and Victoria’s uncertainty and discomfort raised with each second before they both looked away at the same time. 

She recognized that feeling in Victoria. Hearing something she wished she hadn’t. 

She’d been waiting for it the whole time. 

And then she just missed it. 

Victoria looked over at her as she didn’t move with the rest of them, concerned, but Cherie didn’t acknowledge her. She aimed right for the glare, the spotlight, and threw paranoia at it. She didn’t know if it would take, wasn’t even trying to hit Victoria, but she needed to get away from the reminders of her failures as fast as she could, trapped between the one better than her and the proof he was. It worked, the other three stopping to frantically glance around, despite the fact everybody else was still hiding inside their homes and the street was empty. 

Cherie turned and ran. 

Victoria yelled something, Amy did too, and she didn’t listen. She barely had a plan for where to go, turning into an alley and cutting through to the next street over, Victoria’s glare behind her. 

Amy had told Victoria. Amy had told her, Cherie’s goal all along, and it hadn’t worked. The last hope she had of getting anything, of being able to claim that she’d done it, down the drain in a way that probably would end up better than if she hadn’t interfered. She couldn’t do it with her powers, she couldn’t do it without her powers, and he was still there, bending them all one by one. 

A Shambler fell through the air somewhere, and Victoria turned toward it, abandoning the pursuit. Cherie hopped through a storefront’s broken window and down the back hall, out the staff door and onto another street, further away. She had to avoid the Shamblers and the soldiers, everything else, just get out or stay or something she didn’t know. 

She should have known.

It shouldn’t have gotten to this point.

She didn’t know how it couldn’t have, with what she had, but it shouldn’t have. She should have skipped town, gone straight to her original plan, lurked in Boston or someplace with just as much to exploit, but would she have been able to do what he could? 

The townhouse sitting on the side of the road was long abandoned and empty, but the door opened when Cherie tested it, and she locked it behind her as she stumbled inside. Broken glass littered the floor, and she stomped right over it before crashing down onto the stained but otherwise untouched couch in the living room.

No. She couldn’t. Cherie couldn’t be another him. Despite her range, her reach, she couldn’t be better than him. She just couldn’t.

A handful of tears dripped down her face as she put her earbuds in, slumping into the dirty cushions. 

If she couldn’t be him, what else could she be?

Chapter Text

“Keep running!” 

The gunshots cut through Taylor’s swarm like her bugs weren’t there, the other Wards keeping pace behind her as she tried to make a screen between them and Heartbreaker’s soldiers. The feedback from a few of them became strange as Shadow Stalker phased through them, but she kept moving down the street, watching Vista and Clockblocker try to dodge the shots as they ran. 

A column of smoke from the next street over caught the eyes of her bugs, and she moved a few over to look closer, catching sight of a figure moving with the burning pharmacy. 

Shit. 

“Burnscar’s a block to our east!” She shouted to the Wards. “We need to find somewhere to hide!” 

“Rock and a hard place, huh?” Clockblocker shouted back. “Vista! Get us in a window!” 

Vista shot a thumbs up behind her as she skidded into a slide along the pavement, pointing at an office building just visible beyond the moving swarm. Taylor ducked below a bullet that felt way too close for her comfort and cleared the bugs out of Vista’s line of sight, letting her do whatever she needed to suddenly have a broken window be level with the street. The other two Wards ran through the gap, and Taylor set the swarm of bugs at the soldiers to force them away before following through. Vista snapped the street back to normal, and everybody collapsed against the desks and cubicles lining the floor. 

“Fucking…mind controlled assholes.” Shadow Stalker fiddled with her crossbow. “This sucks.” 

“Stalks, you can shoot back.”  Clockblocker sighed. “I can’t. Even Stinger has her weird blowtorch spear.” 

“Is that Armsmaster’s tech on the end?” Vista asked. “How did you get that?” 

Taylor ignored her, looking out the window on the opposite side of the building. Vista had pulled them into the building just across the street from the pharmacy, and there was a trail of burned buildings stretching randomly across several blocks into the distance. 

“We’re right next to her,” she said. “Burnscar’s right here.” 

Nobody answered her for a second, so she turned around to look at them. “We need to do something.” 

Clockblocker sighed. “The soldiers are going to call in Heartbreaker, aren’t they?”

“They’ll call somebody. And none of us can take Heartbreaker if it is him.” 

Shadow Stalker coughed. “Sure, fight Burnscar. We gotta run, we gotta go through her. But Clock needs to touch people, she’d roast me alive, and you use bugs. Great team composition.”

Taylor stared at her for a second before blinking under the mask. 

“How are we all terrible matchups against her?” 

Vista raised her hand. 

“You are Manton limited, and her fire could snap back once your bends reset.” 

Vista lowered her hand. 

Taylor tapped the blade of her glaive against the floor of the empty office building that her and the Wards were staring out the window of, down at the burning pharmacy. “What did Kid Win even do?”

“Apparently he fused all his gear with his alternator cannon. Helped kill Mannequin, but fried all his stuff.” 

“Doesn’t he have backups?” “He was using them for spare parts for the cannon.” 

At least Clockblocker sounded as exhausted as she felt. 

“So how do we deal with Burnscar?” 

“Lure her out.” Shadow Stalker was looking very intently out the window, finger on the trigger of her crossbow. “Pull her to the edge of her fire and let me shoot her.”

“Is it that dangerous to–” “Yes, Vista.” Taylor suppressed a sigh. “If you stretch the space out, Burnscar could light it on fire, and then when it snaps back there’s more fire in a space than can fit.” 

Clockblocker suddenly straightened up. “I think I know how to deny her teleports.”

“Run it by me.” “I need to go grab a lot of paper.” “Go.” Taylor gestured to the rest of the office, and Clockblocker ran off. “Does anybody–” 

She paused. “Vista, why do you have that?”

Vista looked at her, a fire extinguisher the size of her pinky sitting in the hero’s palm. “I need a weapon. You have one, Shadow Stalker has one, Clockblocker can turn anything into a giant spike, so I need one too.”

Taylor tightened her grip on her glaive and checked her bugs, the swarm steering clear of the growing patch of fire a block away. She was about to go after Burnscar with three other Wards, all of which had a poor matchup for a high-rating pyrokinetic that could teleport, while hoping that no soldiers, Shamblers, or other members of the Nine came by hunting for Regent and Cherie. 

Shadow Stalker shifted, the noise grabbing Taylor’s attention. “I think I see some down there.” 

She moved the bugs accordingly, trying to get a good view, and didn’t hide the sigh this time. “There’s a Shambler by the fire.” 

Vista and Shadow Stalker groaned as Clockblocker returned, holding a cardboard box. “What?” 

“A Shambler by the fire, I think I see more in the distance, and no civilians in the line of fire.” Taylor stiffened, readying her bugs. “We need to kill the Shambler as fast as possible. Hit it first, then Burnscar.” 

Clockblocker muttered something about taking notes behind his mask, but Vista just nodded, the distance from the window to the fire halving with a pulling gesture. The Shambler was groaning, audible from the reduced distance, and everybody readied themselves as the fire still burned on the asphalt and halfway into the pharmacy. 

The Shambler stepped into everybody’s view, hard calcifications growing along one arm, it’s chest, and spiking out of its head as what skin was untouched pulsed and twitched beneath a torn set of sweatpants. 

None of them spoke for a second, and Clockblocker stepped forward. “Vista, go.” 

The Shambler was right in front of them instantly, and Clockblocker reached out and tagged it as the rest of them hopped down to street level. Vista set the office back to how it was and put herself between Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker, free and ready to pull the space between them around. Taylor put herself on the opposite side of the Shambler as them, a cluster of bugs keeping their gaze on the fire while the rest formed themselves into silhouettes of the Wards and herself. 

It was a tense minute before the Shambler unfroze, but it launched into action the moment it did, a roar coming out past the crystal and stumble-charging for Taylor. She dodged to the side, a bug clone swooping into her place, and she swung the shaft of the glaive at the crystals, breaking a bunch off. A crossbow bolt flew into the newly empty space, only to bounce off, and she tossed the bolt back to Shadow Stalker before blocking a swing from its crystalline arm. Her bugs saw Clockblocker let go of the box, leaving it floating in place, before taking the lid off and pulling two sheets of paper out. He ran forward, and she kicked the Shambler away in time for him to jump forward, guided by Vista, and slap both sheets down on the Shambler’s flesh arm while it was winding up for another swing. 

It tried to pull away, the timelocked creases digging into its skin, and Taylor brought the glaive up and down onto its upper arm with a plasma-vented boost. The blade cleaved through with a wet flop, and the Shambler stumbled back, crystallization already forming over the stump. Clockblocker followed up with a flurry of rapid jabs and a kick to the kneecap, a crack of bone keeping the Shambler off-balance before it swung the other crystal arm at him. He dodged back, the distance elongated by Vista, and caught the box before it could fall. “Got it!” 

The Shambler began to pull itself to standing again, only for the leg Clockblocker had kicked to be suddenly severed. Taylor whipped around to see Jack Slash’s smiling face in a window, mere feet away from the chaos. 

“Don’t mind me, I’m just doing some appraising. Spicing it up a little to see which of you makes it out.” 

A scaled, taloned joint was growing out of the Shambler’s leg, and there was definitely a shape moving around in the fire. Taylor turned back to the Wards, and was met with Clockblocker already running at the fire, box tucked under his arm. “I’m pulling a coverup! Vista, Stalker, play some jenga!” 

Taylor didn’t quite get it, but Vista pulled and the Shambler was suddenly facing Shadow Stalker, crossbow bolts bouncing off the calcification. She ran toward the pharmacy and phased through the wall, followed by the Shambler, clawing its way through the wall and rubbled before Shadow Stalker came back outside a little further down and shot at it again. 

A fireball shot past her, and Taylor watched Vista follow the Shambler just out of its sight before running toward Burnscar herself. The fire was getting hotter, but Burnscar was near the edge just inside, and judging from how Taylor’s swing cut through her skin down to a mesh of some kind, was very focused on whatever Clockblocker was doing in there. She lashed a hand out, trailing fire like a whip, and Taylor ducked down as it whirled over her. Another fireball hit her in the side, heat searing her through the armor, the impact barely reduced by it being more of a concussive blast her costume absorbed than a thermal one. Taylor stepped back, rapidly re-evaluating the situation, and tried to sneak a few bugs into the building to get a better view of it. 

The aisles were gone, melted to piles of slag, but that wasn’t stopping Clockblocker as he ran around, pulling pieces of paper out of the box and freezing them in place before they could burn up. A shower of sparks rained towards her, and her narrow dodge was helped by a twist in the space between her and Burnscar, sending the fireballs wide. Vista snapped her changes back the moment Taylor was in the clear, just in time for Taylor to avoid and place a few bugs on the Shambler, chasing after a fleeting glimpse of Shadow Stalker. 

Her bugs saw Burnscar appear in front of Clockblocker, and she sent a few at her, ignoring the unsettling feeling of them burning up as they chewed and pulled. Burnscar reacted for a second before ignoring them, and Taylor sent a few more bugs, obscuring her vision as a cluster descended beside the fleeing Clockblocker. 

“Jenga?” She asked through them. 

“You played it?” He replied. She formed the cluster into a rapidly disintegrating Y as she led the others away from him, baiting Burnscar into using at least a little time to burn them up instead of him or the other two Wards. 

“You know what it feels like to have the tower fall on you?” 

The papers he was freezing in place suddenly made a lot more sense. 

“Use bugs.” The cluster broke apart after vocalizing that, spreading out to areas where the papers weren’t or where they had unfrozen. Clockblocker pointed to a specific spot in the middle of the room, under what looked like where two support beams joined, and Taylor started lowering bugs down in his path, keeping them mostly out of the fire before he grazed them and the sensation from them suddenly stopped. She let out a breath, spinning the halberd before hitting the plasma vent button, and ran back into the fire toward Burnscar. 

The villain disappeared from where Taylor had seen her, but her bugs caught the flash of reappearance behind. She swung the glaive, flaring the plasma and speeding up the move as Burnscar brought up an arm, the wave of fire not slowing the swing at all as her palm split under the blade. Burnscar returned the blow with a lance of fire, shot carving a piece out of Taylor’s shoulder, and she teleported to Taylor’s right with a burst of fire that sent Taylor stumbling. 

The Shambler picked then to charge through a wall, skin slowly turning to scales from the fire, and literally fell on top of Burnscar from too much momentum. Another blast of fire knocked it back up, all the way into the ceiling, burning lashes carving through its skin. It roared as it fell, drowning out whatever curse Burnscar was yelling, and cut off as a crossbow bolt sort of appeared halfway through its skull. 

Shadow Stalker reappearing through the roof,  getting a somehow flickering bolt halfway through Burnscar’s arm, and immediately phasing back up through the roof answered that question. 

Taylor swung again, flaring the plasma and forcing Burnscar back, dodging Shadow Stalker’s bolt as it flew over her shoulder and dug into Burnscar’s arm. The villain threw her hands out to the side, whips of fire appearing, only for one hand to start twitching as the bolt embedded in it began to melt. Taylor kept up her attack, forcing Burnscar closer toward the center of the room, swings flowing into each other as she dodged between the ever hotter flames, the only thing keeping her safe the minute adjustments Vista kept making between the big flames and her costumes and Clockblocker’s nearly finished ring of frozen bugs and papers around the room. 

A bolt jammed itself into Burnscar’s chest, and Taylor cracked her across the jaw with the shaft of the glaive, pushing her right into one of the frozen bugs. Clockblocker slapped the last one for the final time and ran off, out of the line of sight of her bugs, only yelling as he left the nearly crumbled building. “Vista!” 

The ceiling was suddenly above Taylor’s head, in reach, and she swung up and through the last support in the building. Burnscar lunged forward, screaming as she seared Taylor’s stomach with a beam of pure heat, but she snapped back as the phased outline of a fire extinguisher hit her in the head and snapped back into physicality. A bug unfroze before Shadow Stalker dragged her out of the building, and she got a view of Burnscar as the pharmacy came down on top of her.

Clockblocker caught her as they both stumbled back out into the street, looking her up and down. “You are not okay.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He pulled an injector out of his belt. “Your costume is missing patches and you look like a ginger in Texas. At least take some painkillers.”

“I would ask you not do that.” Jack Slash’s voice cut through from somewhere they couldn’t tell, despite the 4 of them frantically looking around. “I would like to see her lucid, if wounded. And you all get the lucky chance to sleep it off anyway. Does having a rest for a few hours sound good?”

None of them responded, Vista only staying silent because Shadow Stalker clamped a hand over her mouth, and Jack Slash chuckled to himself. “I did ask you to not interfere, but that was ingenious and skilled. Good work. We’re going to keep looking though, obviously. Siberian loves her hunts. And Wards, I must say, good work on your creativity. I love a show. Now run along, Nikos is on his way.” 

His voice faded out from wherever he was projecting it from, and Clockblocker tried to nudge her in the direction of the PHQ, only to get shrugged off. 

“There’s still work to do.”

“It is nearly night, you can sleep.”

“Give me some burn cream if you have some.”

He sighed. “Fine. Are you mobile?” 

She nodded. She would be, after a bit of rest time spent moving or looking for whoever they needed to stop next. 

A glance up at the sky made her realize that it was already near nighttime, the low sun making the burning wreck of the pharmacy glow brighter.

She just hoped the others were okay.

Chapter Text

The city falling past dusk didn’t change what Cherie heard. 

Burnscar had died in silent, icy rage, and she was definitely dead. It had been hard to tell with whatever was in the way, but the sound of somebody winking out was too familiar for Cherie to miss. Even with a profile as flat and one-dimensional as Burnscar’s, it was still clear when somebody went, and that fade to silence barely a minute after the Shambler died, surrounded by Wards, had been very clear. 

It had felt almost taunting. Everything did now, even at night, with some of the Shamblers tucking away to hibernate, capes grabbing naps, and the Undersiders creeping around an old shelter full of people and a weird signature like they were about to steal some pies off the windowsill. Alec was, too, but she didn’t want to listen to him. 

Something about the Nine seemed off, and not just because half of them were horrible in the head. Burnscar had gone from out of focus to coldly angry, everything else fading out into the background, and Mannequin had just been very strangely muffled, but everybody else was like they had a layer of static between themselves and Cherie. Jack Slash had been watching Burnscar die, but apart from appreciation for somebody’s work and an eagerness that Cherie had underestimated to hear from him, she couldn’t tell anything. What she’d been able to hear had been reduced to what she would have been able to affect. Crawler didn’t have the same deal, but Shatterbird did, Hatchet Face did, and Bonesaw did, if the fleeting impressions she’d caught before trying to bury herself in her own music had meant anything. 

The realization hit her, and she kicked the support pillar of the door to the townhouse’s balcony. Bonesaw. Some sort of anti-master device, dug through their brains to stop her powers. Maybe Alec’s, too, but he’d never been too transparent on how his power worked with dad. It probably wasn’t even specific to her, just general countermeasures against masters. Jack Slash had been doing it for years, of course he would have seen the possibility of a master trying to take over the Nine. 

She slammed the balcony door shut, staring down at the musty, stained floor in anger, some at Bonesaw, some at him, but most at herself. 

Of course she couldn’t have. Even if she’d been dad, she couldn’t have. 

If she could have, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. 

All of her effort, quite literally all of it, a waste on two fronts. She couldn’t have, and she never would have been able to outdo him. And it hurt, the facts of the matter right in her face. The Nine were out of her range to touch. She hadn’t been able to properly unite a street gang of scavengers and drug peddlers to herself, without a bio-tinker keeping them insulated. He could have, probably could have overrode the controls too. 

And she’d once planned on a name like his. Even that felt hollow now. 

Cherie reached out with her power and didn’t pull at the capes, moreso gently brushed over their emotions, the faintest feel of what she could actually manipulate. Most were too far for her to focus or too paranoid to not notice, but she didn’t plan on doing anything anyway. It wouldn’t stay any longer than the day at most, or until they noticed and got themselves under control. And the Nine had both of those in spades. She hadn’t even heard Siberian this entire time, meaning her theories about that level of invulnerability were right. Of course she’d had to be right about that. 

The only thing she could even think of that plan that wasn’t going to end up worse was that it would be hard to get attached to anybody in the Nine except Bonesaw, and that was a stretch. 

God, she’d excused the pity Alec felt for her for the same reason she’d excused bugging him into saving his girlfriend, but she had actually gotten along with him. He hadn’t been wrong with how without dad there, they were getting closer. Actually getting along like siblings, but that was just more proof that she wouldn’t have made it. To think she’d really just thought that she could get along with Amy so well that it would work, or that she’d really end up torturing him when all he’d been was calm. The first time she’d arrived had been welcoming with open arms by their old standards. 

She stood up slowly, walking up to the balcony door and gently pulling it open. Her brother was running around like a madman with half of New Wave and a handful of soldiers and Shamblers not far behind, knots of twisted emotions that started to blend together to the point of where she couldn’t make out exactly how many. A deep fear ran through him, only half for survival, the other part the type he felt for friends and family. 

Cherie pulled on it a little, pushing calm in. No sense in letting him die from panic. His emotions shifted in response, a tad of relief kicking in as he sped up. Her hand jerked over to the opposite shoulder, a hold that almost felt like it was supposed to be reassuring. 

As if she needed more proof she couldn’t even get her brother to hate her. 

The balcony was rough wood, scratchy through her jacket as Cherie sunk to the floor. The music of her MP3 thrummed, unable to drown out the sound of the city anymore. The truth just kept being more real for her. 

It hadn’t worked. Trying to be him hadn’t worked. It never would have worked. 

She was so much worse than him, wasn’t she? Amy was better at what Cherie wanted to do than Cherie was herself. 

Cherie knew the feeling of somebody’s worst fear coming true. It was never violent, brash or loud. It was slow, insidious and creeping, like one’s spine wriggling beneath the skin. A dark chill up the back, and a bitter lump in the chest. But it wasn’t loud. She knew it was coming for every step of the feeling. 

She didn’t know what she could do. If she could even come up with some solution, something to keep her on. The paralysis was all her, not the terror of her fear. People didn’t get paralyzed by their greatest fear because they never thought it would come. Happy denials of a possibility. 

She really was so much worse than him, if she couldn’t control herself like this. 

Idle glimpses of familiarity came into earshot, and Cherie pulled herself into the corner of the balcony as the music of the city and her own music both got louder. She didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t her brother. She wasn’t her father. She was just her. 

The tears didn’t come this time. Cherie had seen enough people pushed to the point of defeat to know that there was a point where crying just wasn’t enough. 

It wasn’t, but as she tried to force them out again for some glimmer of catharsis, she knew it hadn’t ever been. 

Chapter Text

Ethan had engaged in a fair share of poor ideas over the years, but he liked this the least. 

The Shamblers were more concentrated around an old Merchant lab that had been abandoned after the gang had violently torn itself apart in a strip mall parking lot, not in an obvious way, but enough that he, Andrea, and Colin had noticed that it was more than anywhere else. The conclusion from there had been pretty simple. 

Just because he helped name the things didn’t mean he liked hopping across buildings above them, though. 

Andrea zoomed across the gap ahead in a blur, quieter than he’d really expected, and he followed with a smooth leap, pulling his energy back in on landing. The BBPD had only barely gotten the Shatterbird heads-up in time, so all they’d properly sent over was a paper copy of the floor plan from last time they’d raided the place. That was all it would take to guess where Bonesaw’s lab was, and hopefully it would just be her and some half-baked, unready Shamblers inside. 

It was still Bonesaw though, and god only knew what she had in store. 

He skidded to a stop just a building away, faint grunts of Shamblers from the streets below barely audible from six stories up, and looked over at Andrea. Her costume was glowing from full charge and she was aimed right at a window that hadn’t been boarded up. “Start from the top down?” She asked.

“Maybe.” He knelt down, trying to look closer at the building. “If this is the place, she’d probably be working out of the basement.”

“The Nine aren’t stupid. That would be hard to get out of if she’s cornered. The top lets you jump out of windows, and she’d have something to take the impact. I go into the top floor and let you know where, and we work down from there.” 

Ethan raised his eyebrow. “These things are made from Crawler. If he’s in there, then you’re screwed.” 

“I’ll use my charge on the speed.”

“Battery–” 

A Shambler came clattering out of the lab’s front door, metallic plates already poking out of its back, and Ethan swallowed down his reaction to go charging in.  He didn’t know where Bonesaw was getting the people for this, but what she’d been doing was disgusting, something he didn’t want to imagine solely so he could stay focused. 

Tempting as it was to dropkick that thing in the skull and pulp it out of its misery, nipping the Shamblers at their source were better. And since it wasn’t realistic to deny Bonesaw a stream of Crawler tissue, they just had to stop her. 

Andrea’s eagerness was concerning him, though. 

“Battery.” He lowered his voice. “Andrea, is something wrong?” 

She glanced between him and the building, before settling on him and sighing. “We need to be careful through this. I mean it, we need to be slow.” 

“How slow?” “...very.” 

Ethan leapt straight up, getting a good view of what looked like a rotting patch of the building’s roof, and landed back down next to Andrea. “I can crash through the roof, if you want, but we need to at least clear the building. What’s stopping you?” 

A huff escaped her. “I got a message. I need to follow it.” 

“You need to tell me–” “I can’t. You can witness, but I can’t tell you. It’s complicated.” She shook her hands out, trying to explain. “Just don’t touch her, and the problem will be solved.” 

That was suspicious, too much for him. He had to at least find out what was going on. “Fine. I’ll go through the roof, you go through that window. Charge me?” 

Andrea sighed, and burned the charge in a flurry of blows on him. Ethan jumped off in an arc, trajectory landing on the roof’s rotten patch and crashing through the weak wood and plaster. He cut the energy off right before his feet impacted the floor, saving it for later, and looked around only to be met with nothing but a few scraps of equipment that hadn’t been dismantled. Dust kicked up behind him as he took off, pushing a little bit of energy into his strides to get him to and down the stairs faster. The blue blur of Andrea darted out of a door two floors down from the roof and outpaced him to the basement, weaving in and out of rooms as he charged down past her. Groaning, half-conscious bodies littered the bottom floors of the stairs, a few with needles and forceps sticking off of them, and he kept going right past the poor fools and through the ramshackle door barely hanging on the hinges. 

Bonesaw jumped and dropped her scalpel into a woman’s skullcap lying on the table in the room. “Oh, Assault! I wasn’t done yet!” 

He opened his mouth to say something, but Andrea darted into the doorway in front of him, sticking a hand out to block him off. “Wait.” 

His comeback was cut off by a rectangle opening in the air between them and Bonesaw, and a woman in a suit stepping through. 

“Bonesaw.” 

“I don’t know you.” She blinked at the woman. “No, you’re not one of the people we’re looking for.”

“I’m not. This is impressive work you’ve done here.”

“I don’t want to brag, but Jack’s not here, so yeah, I think it is! I knew I could splice powers together, I’d tried that before, but I don’t think I can get anybody else’s powers into a normal person without a regenerator.” 

“I think I can find you an alternative.” 

The smile on Bonesaw’s face actually terrified Ethan. “Better than Crawler?” 

“Far better.” The woman leaned in. “How would you like to work with where powers come from?”

“Passengers…” Bonesaw sounded almost wistful. “Can Jack come?”

“He has things to do.” “But I’m supposed to stick with him.” “We have DNA. And there’s so much more art you can make without him limiting you, with us giving you what you need.”

The girl thought it over for a second, before reaching down to brush her bloody apron. “Jack says I shouldn’t leave him, though. Are you sure?”

“I was going to suggest that you look at what we’re offering first.” The woman turned around and strolled through the rectangle, and Bonesaw dropped her apron and followed right behind, before it vanished and they were gone. 

Andrea grabbed his arm and pulled him away. “Let’s call this in and get out of here.” 

Ethan was escorting half-sedated bystanders and future test subjects a few minutes later when he realized that lady had looked vaguely familiar. 

He was pretty sure she had hired him before.

Chapter Text

The hatch opened on the first knock. 

It was a specific pattern, and the mercenary that opened it immediately recognized who was there. 

Two short nods and a press of a button on a cell phone later, he was opening the much larger hatch with a set of stairs attached so the dogs could make their way inside. 

Rachel just grunted, and Lisa smiled at him. “Thank you kindly.” 

He took that as his cue to shut the door and go quietly ignore anything strange. 

Lisa’s smile got wider as her, Brian, and Rachel headed through the halls of Coil’s base, one hand holding her phone up to viewing level. She’d hacked security cameras before, many a time, and placed only a few less. The fact she had an app dedicated to her camera feeds was probably proof enough. 

But the way it was trained on the house of one Thomas Calvert was worth all the time spent on setting up that expertise. 

This entire plan was a gamble, but it was one she was willing to take. 

The mercenaries in the halls moved out of their way as the three of them strolled through Coil’s base, though the man himself already knew they were coming. She’d called him earlier, a manufactured excuse on bringing Brian and Rachel into the loop, since now was a bad time to be taking anonymous orders, and they were about to lose Alec and Taylor was MIA. As far as he knew, at least. 

One last glance at the camera, a few quick button presses to alert her in case of any motion in the house- only empty as far as you can see it- and the phone went back in her pocket. Shatterbird proofing was excellent, especially considering yesterday’s level of specificity. 

Two mercenaries standing guard by the door let their rifles drop, slings going taut, and Lisa held the other two back as the mercs walked away. Rachel gave her a look of confusion, posture faintly angry, but Lisa just replied with a finger raised to her lips and a lack of shushing noises. That message wasn’t hard to make clear.

Another short pattern of knocks, and the doors slid open, unlocking procedure revealing Coil’s office and the man himself sitting at his desk in full costume. Confident yet concerned, wary of risk of Undersiders blowing back on him. Tragic for him. 

“Undersiders, welcome.” He spread his hands above his desk, a gesture of openness. “My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I am Coil, your benefactor.”

“What took you so long?” Brian crossed his arms. “A Nine attack isn’t a good time for this.” 

“I would have revealed myself to you sooner, but the city wasn’t right for it. And with respect, your profile was low. This was by design, of course, but I think it is time I explain things to you.” He gestured to the three chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat.” 

Lisa obliged, taking the middle seat, Brian on her left and Rachel to her right with the dogs patient on the floor. Coil’s posture didn’t change, utterly confident of himself now that Alec and Taylor no longer present or issues, confidence amplified by security of bunker and lack of focus Nine will be placing. Simulation within safe environment, anticipating opportunism from you. Simulation is at house. She grabbed back ahold of her power before it continued, redirecting her focus back to Coil. 

“I wish to take a more direct approach with our partnership moving forward, but first, I want to apologize for Regent and Stinger.” Coil tilted his head solemnly, before looking back up at Lisa. “You’re aware of why the latter cannot be here?” 

“Jack Slash has a vested interest in her,” she replied. “So it’s better if we cut and run.” 

He leaned back, faintly surprised. “Well then. Considering it would be you three once the Nine are gone, allow me to make my proposal.

“Brockton Bay is a city that will be on the edge after this. Devastated, shattered. You all have something to worry about and protect, against the gangs and villains that are sure to make their way in once the Nine are gone, and you will not be able to do it alone in that chaos. But I can assist. Give you all reinforcement, safety. A new partnership, with which we can keep Brockton Bay safe.” 

Reflective of grander goal. Believes himself safe telling you this because of perceived security in simulation. Change of state of simulation imminent. 

“Are you asking us to take over the city?” 

Coil nodded in response to Brian’s question. “Not now. But soon. That is what I offer you, without Regent and Stinger.”

Rachel grunted, but didn’t answer, and Coil didn’t seem worried going by how he didn’t address it. “If you have no further questions, I suggest you return to your lair and wait out the Nine. I will contact you through Tattletale if needs be.” 

Brian nodded, slowly, and Rachel gave a quick one.

“Actually, boss, I have a question.” 

He straightened, meeting her gaze. 

“How large are the air vents in your panic room?” 

She couldn’t see his eyes widening behind his mask, but the jolt upright that sent his chair skidding back was proof enough that his simulation had gone wrong.   He reached for the gun she knew he kept in a drawer, but the vent above him gave way, falling to the floor with a clatter as a figure in dark clothes dropped out of it. 

Coil whirled, leaving the drawer open, and caught a baseball bat to the side of the head. 

Brian turned to Lisa as her old boss’s head bounced off the desk and he rolled onto the floor, unconscious. “Why did we have to do it like this?”

“He’s more reactive than proactive, and his security system detects parahumans. He knew something was coming, but I had to trust the simulation of me to play her cards right. Plus, he’s arrogant, and thought this was his safe approach, with Stinger all the way away. I wasn’t technically plotting against him, I just told people to do things.” 

The dink of metal on some other metallic material made Lisa stand up and look down at the dark figure poking Coil’s head tip the tip of the bat. “Yo, what’s up?”

“He’s not listening to you.” 

Aisha pulled the bottom of the balaclava up enough to show her grin. “But it was really funny.” 

“You are incredibly lucky that you convinced me it was necessary to bring her. What if Coil hadn’t been here?” Brian grunted.

“My simulation had Shade here sneak into his actual house. Apparently, it worked just the same way it did here. I defused the security and handled the mercs myself, anyway. We just caught him after he’d started his simulation, with surprise.” 

Brian sighed. “I’m going to look through this stuff on the desk. Bitch, Shade, stay here. Please.” 

“Can I go out and fight people with you afterwards?” “Hell no. You stay here.” 

“You two wait here.” Lisa stretched her shoulders out. “I already have the Traveler’s accounts, just gotta convince them. Text me if any of those docs prove Coil was lying about trying to…do something, I’ll tell you more later.” 

Brian nodded, settling himself into Coil’s chair as Rachel and Aisha dragged the unconscious body to the side of the room, and pressed a button. The monitor lit up with a picture of a massive room, like a vault, and he leaned back in the chair as he gestured over for Lisa. She moved to look, seeing the…something in there. 

“Tattletale?”

Close friend of Travelers, Coil’s backup weapon. Unstable monstrous cape, Coil offered to attempt to fix situation if they cooperated.

“Yeah, yeah.” She started walking, clamping down on her power. The door wasn’t far from Coil’s office, and she punched in the keypad partially without looking. The Travelers were inside a smaller room, lounging around and unmasked, and Trickster immediately swapped her with Ballistic the moment she walked in the room. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Coil was lying to you about your friend. He just wanted her as a dead man’s switch. I can prove it, but would you rather wait for that, or run the risk of the Nine breaking something?”

Trickster stared at her for a second, fierce protection of friend conflicting with desire to keep her alive for the future, before looking to Ballistic. “Shoot her if she moves.” 

“I’m serious. Do you know what would happen if his plan went through? If he died, and she got mad? They’d treat her like a new Endbringer, by my guess, and do you want that? For him to treat you as a superweapon? Because he has been!” 

“Krouse.” Sundancer spoke up. “I think she has a point.” 

Trickster glared at her for a second longer, before angrily sighing. “If we go to the PRT, or anybody else, you’re making up paperwork for us. And it needs to be flawless.” 

“Easy.” He nodded, once, then walked off to go inform friend. Lisa got up and let out a breath. 

Even with the threat of a Ballistic-propelled marble through her head, it was still easier than she’d hoped. 

“Holy shit, Tattletale, he actually kidnapped a kid?”

 Oh, right. Brian wouldn’t be happy about that part being real.

Chapter Text

The sound of Lisa’s relief was clear to Cherie’s ears, even about to try and sleep on the couch as she was.

Of course it would be that easy for her. 

Cherie’s powers weren’t all that different from Lisa’s, when it came to negotiation. They could both pick out weak points in somebody’s argument, pulling up important details. They could both tell when somebody was off-balance, open to influence or not up to the duel. She could tell their tics, body language, and what made them go, and Cherie could see past that into what they were feeling, almost what they were thinking. 

And yet, Lisa was better at it. 

Lisa's power didn’t do anything for her. It told her, but so did Cherie’s. She heard everything everybody felt, could manipulate that, didn’t even need her power properly for that. But she couldn’t do what Lisa did, even with her powers. Maybe it was something in the Travelers that kept them all pulled along, that strange, massive knot in the base somebody that ensured their loyalty, but the Travelers were stable. Mostly stable, at least, save the giant bundle and one she thought might be Trickster, and as difficult to subtly manipulate as all capes were, since it was far from uncommon to suspect said manipulation. 

Cherie hadn’t even managed to grab a rambling gang of addicts. 

She shifted on the couch, pulling her jacket as close as the improvised blanket could go, listening around for something to ease her to sleep. Her brother was still running around like a maniac with his share of New Wave and Miss Militia, though he was going slower, more watching than fleeing. Lisa was wrangling the Travelers, normals inside the base, and that strange presence that seemed scared, but unhelpful. Taylor and the Wards sounded like they were in pursuit of something, slow eagerness, though the others and Armsmaster seemed more worried about Taylor, and the Dallons were trying to savor a moment of not dealing with any Shamblers. Amy and Victoria still hadn’t changed, uncertainty aimed at each other with the barest tinge of hope from Amy. 

Cherie might not know what they were thinking, but she could tell enough. Amy had assessed the risk, the same way she’d tried to learn who her father was, and found it a worthy risk to tell Victoria on her terms. Victoria hadn’t found it strange, seen the confession as fair, just the type of thing that happened when people shared secrets, not finding them out in a worst case scenario. 

Lisa had figured it out right off the bat. She would have just gone for it, and it would have been the better call. 

An echo of a half-deranged laugh escaped her mouth. It was so easy, to just amplify everybody’s reactions, make her admit it, and grab her and go. 

Jealousy was the perfect word for it, that it had been so easy and Cherie had missed it. 

She really had been going about the whole thing wrong. If she got out of this, it wasn’t going to be through the same routes as before. Specifics escaped her that late, all she wanted right then was to get some sleep, but the envy at Lisa was so clear. All of them were worthy of it, she knew, but Lisa was the only one clear and present to her right then. 

It was ironic, she knew, that she was doing this. Trying to sleep in an empty house, looking over what she realized were the mistakes of her life while the city went wrong outside. It was a situation she’d forced other people into before, but that hadn’t even been a continuous effect, just a well timed hit of melancholy that they didn’t shake off. She knew she’d been wrong, but now it was being rubbed in, salt in the wound. It should have been so simple. 

Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve. 

Cherie sighed, quiet and shaky. It had been in her reach, if she hadn’t been stupid. The ability to tear Victoria and Amy away from each other. Alec, from his friends. Rip the Undersiders apart, or pull the other gangs to her. So close if she hadn’t gotten sidetracked. 

But she would never have done that, would she? 

The problem was that it was so much easier for everybody else, and that was the whole of it. It was easier for everybody else, not Cherie. It was on her, that the issue lay. 

Maybe it was on how much she tried to be him. Something in there, where those two ideas joined, making it more painful for her. She wasn’t him, but maybe whatever was stopping her from being him was the core problem. There was something, and it was in her, who she was, that made it harder. The fact she was so closely tied to him, perhaps. 

Cherie tried to bury herself deeper into the cushions, regardless of the marks it would leave on her clothes. 

God, it was so easy for everybody else. She knew the problem.

She just still didn’t know where she ended and he began. 

Sleep wasn’t going to come to her. She hadn’t borrowed any of Lisa’s medicine before, and hadn’t slipped it into her backpack. It was just her in the empty house, MP3 battery running low, the silhouette of the patch in her jacket pocket mocking her now. It was a testament to what she’d thought, how firmly she’d lied to herself, thinking she was better than him, could do more than him. He would have had the lady give it to him for free, at least. She hadn’t. But if she could have, she would have. 

The house was quiet, and yet, it was too loud. The city was falling apart, and yet, everybody was pulling it off, and doing it easily. Alec was just as hunted as her, and yet, faint hints of satisfaction and triumph were beginning to seep through, even though he sounded like he was still in the middle of whatever the hell he was doing. 

She didn’t know how he felt, that void in her awareness. There was a temptation to listen to it, let the silence lull her to sleep. 

But would that even work, with how wrong all of the other attempts to be like him had gone? How everytime the line between her and him blurred, she tried to redefine herself, it didn’t take? 

Both silences were deafening. It wasn’t fun to listen to any of them. 

Cherie pulled the jacket closer, curling into the corner of the couch. She’d crashed in worse places, that abandoned apartment from when she’d first arrived in the city hadn’t exactly been clean, but that had been for a low profile. This was too, but it wasn’t the same context. 

Not much had changed. 

It should have been so easy, and she shouldn’t have stuck around this long. Nobody else had. 

Cherie knew it was on her, for not making it easier. 

The question of how much of it truly was her lingered on her mind as she tried to sink into sleep, the buzz of the city the best background she could get. 

Chapter Text

Colin looked around at the group of capes, taking collective breaths under the light of a streetlamp in the dark street, and sighed. “How many of us have slept?” 

The Wards tentatively raised their hands, but nobody else did, and he groaned. “Well, that’s shit, but alright. Considering the Nine are so vastly different from their normal MO right now, it’s tolerable to be running off caffeine. Status of the rest of New Wave?” 

“Still alive, at least.” Brandish raised the satellite phone. “I wasn’t able to get a confirmation on what they’re doing, but Regent is still there with them. The daughter isn’t here, and we don’t know where she went. She used her powers and ran.” 

“We need to find her fast, then.” The sentence ended in a cough, and Colin wiped the corner of his mouth. The emergency nanite patches Dragon had sent were good for a temporary patchup, but her suits had gotten delayed, and they had no idea how many Shamblers were left. “Heartbreaker with more power is very bad for us.” 

“Any news on the Undersiders?” Stinger spoke up. He nodded in reply. “They’ve disarmed whatever Coil’s endgame was and stopped him, with the Travelers in tow. The Alcott girl was there, by the way. She’s safe now.” 

A bit of tension left Stinger’s posture as he said that, but he had to continue. “On the downsides, Tattletale gave us some numbers on Shamblers and Heartbreaker’s men in the city. At least twenty Shamblers are still alive, and there’s…a lot of Heartbreaker’s soldiers in the area. The Undersiders lack direct combat potential, and the Travelers can try and put down Shamblers fast, but their regeneration has been–” another cough, he really needed a fix.
“Spotty and inconsistent, Panacea can you please fix my lungs?” 

She nodded and stepped forward, a hand on his chin, and his chest felt looser as she pulled away a second later. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want to fix your eye yet until we know we’re safe.” “That’s alright, I have a plan. Oh,” He held up a hand, “and to top it off Assault and Battery went unresponsive after reporting Bonesaw missing. Anybody have any other information?” 

All of New Wave shook their heads, but Stinger just stood there, head slightly tilted before adjusting her grip on the glaive. “There’s three Shamblers a few blocks out, chasing a squad of armed men. Did you send any PRT squads out?”