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Chapter Text

As Dennis felt his cheeks warped and twisted under absurdly strong hands, he began to slightly regret his bombastic debut. Sure, the name Time Teen was the lamest, most pathetic idea that fat jerk out of New York could have come up with. But pissing off every one of his new bosses in a single go, while altering the rules concerning Ward debuts, may have been a bit much. At least, it would be if this crazy woman with the makeup brush kept trying to slather on yet ANOTHER layer of crap on his face!

He was officially "on loan" to New Wave for a charity photoshoot. The theme was kind of cool in theory, where Parahumans in normal clothes and masks had their pictures taken with normal people in costumes with their faces open to the world. Several of the unpowered models were patients in the local children's hospital, and he liked seeing them light up around real Capes. But at the same time, since he was an underaged Ward, the PRT had sent along a makeup specialist who would basically rework his facial structure with shading, cover his hair with a wig, and not allow him to speak a single word. It was honestly getting really fucking annoying.

Still, he could do this. He understood this was his punishment for doing stupid shit he wasn't supposed to do. It wasn't supposed to be fun. It was a punishment detail. No cracking jokes, no smiling, no nothing interesting.

Fuck, he was going to crack by the end of the night, and he knew it. Why wasn't he allowed to talk? He could do this if he could talk. Just speaking a bit, But no! He had to make hand signals that were prearranged beforehand in order to do things. And the only two he had actually memorized were, 'I really need to pee' and 'Holy shit, this person is frustrating, get me out of here or I'm going to get into a fistfight!'

Okay, sure they really meant, 'Bathroom break' and 'This person is taking too long when I can't respond,' but he liked his names better. It meant he remembered the signs, and it's not like he's explaining to others what they mean, right?

Right.

He started to brush his hand through his hair, only for the makeup artist to snag his hand and snap, "Don't touch your wig."

"Okay, okay. Fine."

"Don't talk."

He closed his eyes, and reminded himself he was not allowed to flip her off, either. Fuck, he's in Hell.

His downward spiral was interrupted by unfamiliar laughter. Waving off the slave driver as she went to add MORE lines to his face, Dennis tried to find out what was so funny. Surprisingly, he discovered some delectable eye candy. First was a petite little thing with a cute smile and straight brown hair. Second was an absolutely smoking red head with a great rack. But the third was almost enough to make him whistle and damn the consequences. You could bounce a bullet off that ass!

Now what would they be laughing at…

Dennis almost thought he Second Triggered for a moment, everything got so quiet.

Tears running down her face, a little girl wearing a generic Alexandria knockoff was pinned down, unable to move unassisted because of some significant headgear. He was not close enough to hear the details, but it was really not hard to guess. The Ward knew a thing or two about telling a joke and some things were just not funny. Messing with someone recovering from the Scion-damned hospital was near the top of his list!

Gesturing to the makeup lady, he either asked her for help or told her she was a baboon. It did not matter. He just had to go and make this stop!

He started walking towards them, ready to give them a piece of his mind, only to be passed by a flying Victoria Dallon, who was significantly faster than him. He paused, which apparently gave the PRT security time to say, "Stay out of this," into his ear, pulling him back.

The makeup lady said to him, once he was back with her, "I won't tell anyone you left my side." He opened his mouth to thank her, but she gave him a sharp look. Nodding, she said, "No talking."

He sighed, watching as Victoria Dallon started to scream, "What the fu-frick do you think you're doing to this poor girl? How dare you!?"

"How dare I?" the hottest one said, who turned out to be a giant bitch. "You're one to talk, collateral damage barbie. You slut it up here in a charity event like a whore, and-"

"There are children here!"

The red head, who had better get a dye job or he was going to sue, just snorted. "Amateurs, the lot of them. Unlike these losers, I've actually done professional modeling, and none of them have what it takes to make this a success."

The blonde hero actually levitated off the ground in anger. "You little BRAT! This isn't about some professional modeling thing, Barnes! This is about charity! You know, helping people? Not being some stupid primadonna. So why don't you take your little posse and get the heck out of here?"

He actually noticed more than one person nodding along with the suggestion. The red head…Barnes?...was not making a lot of friends. Some of these people were pretty good heroes and they would not be worth their capes if they agreed with bullying an innocent kid.

The shorter groupie seemed nervous, but the hot black chick just snorted. "You're not in charge, bitch and you don't get to tell us what to do. Why don't you fly off while we get ready for the main event. Not like this little bug is worth much anyways."

Seeing the girl's face crumple like wet tissue, Dennis had enough. Judging from the sudden emotional whiplash and increased aggression from the bullying assholes, so did the aforementioned CDB.

Of course the blast of aura was enough to get the New Wave leadership involved. The whole shoot was postponed and the three bitches only stayed because daddy dearest decided to start shouting. But Dennis made sure to remember their faces. He was a hero now, and he had a feeling that someone was going to need saving from the terrible twits sooner or later.

-----

Dennis is sitting at the table in the Wards room, doing his homework, when the door opened, and Armsmaster walks in. Or as Dennis calls him in his head, 'Arsemaster,' since he's such an ass. Still, he kept his focus on the door, because when Armsmaster shows up, it was usually important. Even if the bastard only showed up rarely.

So when the man said, "Wards, we have a new member for you," Dennis perks up. Especially when said ward turns out to be a hot girl.

Her mask was a full headed one, with a stern face, but that's fine, her body suit sure doesn't leave much to the imagination, and that ass. Holy shit. That ass.

Hot.

So he paid attention to the introduction of Shadow Stalker, and removed his own mask along with everybody else.

When Stalker tried to refuse to remove her own, he scowls. Thankfully, Armsmaster said, "Off with the mask. Probational Wards do not get to hide their faces from fellow Wards. Either take the mask off, or you don't get that at all. In fact, you can go straight to juvie. I don't care."

"Fine!" Shadow Stalker growled, and pulled off her mask. Instantly, she went from hot to ugly. Not because of her face, no, but because he recognized her.

That was the bitch with the great ass who was mocking the disabled girl in the charity event. Fuck.

He looked at her, then at Armsmaster. "Armsmaster? Sir?"

The Tinker sighs, and says, "Yes, Clockblocker?"

"Could we talk in private? I want to talk about my suit."

".... okay. Come with me."

"Yes, sir!"

He grabbed his helmet, putting it on, and walking to the man as Armsmaster looked at Shadow Stalker, and says, very deliberately, "Sophia Hess, stay and socialize with your fellow Wards."

"Fuck! I don't even get to keep my name secret?"

"Socialize. Come with me, Clockblocker."

"Sir."

Following the man, they go to a private room, and Armsmaster said, "I know you know I don't deal with your costume, Dennis. What is this really about?"

He said, "Shadow Stalker was in the charity event a few months ago, where the heroes dressed as civilians, and civil-"

"Yes, I know what you're talking about. Go on."

"You know where there was that big disturbance where three girls harassed a disabled girl?"

"I remember the report, yes."

"Shadow Stalker was one of those girls. I remember noting their faces, and when I saw her face, I recognized her instantly, sir."

His boss seemed to pause for a minute before replying. "You are saying that Shadow Stalker, in her civilian identity, tormented a civilian? Did she do so by herself? Did it get physical?"

Almost pouting at the tone, Dennis replied. "No, she had a couple of accomplices. Some tiny girl and a redhead named Barnes? And it never got physical. It was just verbal abuse bad enough to make a kid cry. Do you really want her in the Wards if she's going to do shit like that?"

The blue bastard just shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I want at this point. The Director decided that Shadow Stalker would be an asset to the department. However, now that I know about this I can take steps to better control her behavior. We do not need this to become a PR issue."

He could not believe his ears. "PR…Armsmaster, she is an absolute BITCH! If she's willing to do something like that in in civies, how can we trust her armed and in costume!?"

Armsmaster just looked at him. "You are only aware of this because you were present as part of a punishment. I hardly think that you will be able to present evidence sufficient to revoke her probationary agreement right after meeting her."

It was the sort of stonewalling that he sort of expected. The Wards were expected to ask how high and in what dimension when ordered to jump. Now that Shadow Brat was a Ward, she was under their protection.

Then an image of that little girl came to mind and Dennis hardened his heart. Nope, the wicked bitch of the glorious ass had to go! "Alright, how the hell CAN I prove that she should go then?"

Frowning, the Tinker made a few eye twitches. "There, I've emailed you a list of the specific rules and regulations concerning acceptable evidence in the Wards program and for probationary agreements in particular. DON'T make me regret this. Now go rejoin your team and help socialize Shadow Stalker. Until I or the Director say otherwise, she's your teammate and responsibility."

Yeah…no way in hell.

But he grit his teeth, and said, "Yes, sir!" Because as little as he liked it, he has to agree. Oh, he would not do it, but he'd say he would.

He left the private room, and went back to the Wards' Common Room, where everyone was trying to talk to Shadow Bitch. Keyword, trying. Since the brat sure wasn't doing any answering.

He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, asking, "Hey, could we talk?"

Dean looked at him, and said, "Well, how about you join us, and-"

"In private?"

"Okay?"

Getting Dean to follow him, they go to the boy's rooms, and into Dean's room specifically, mainly because it was cleaner. Once in there, Dennis said, "Shadow Stalker-"

"Sophia," Dean corrected with a bright smile.

"Right, right, her. Look, Dean, I know something important about her."

"What's that?"

"She's not a good person," he eased into it, knowing just saying it out and out would have bad consequences with Dean who always thought the best of everyone. Hell, he thought the best of Dennis! And Dennis genuinely appreciated and needed that. "And I'm saying that because I saw her do something horrible awhile ago."

"How long ago? Maybe she's changed."

"Three weeks ago."

Dean looked taken aback, "What did she do?"

"She was helping make fun of a disabled little girl so bad she cried."

Dean scowled at him, "Okay, that's enough out of you, Dennis. I know you love joking, but that's going too far."

"I'm not joking!"

Dean shook his head, turning away, "Honestly…. Saying something like that…."

"Dean, can't you tell I'm being honest with your emotion sight or whatever?"

"All I could tell was that you were happy, and now you're not. Grow up, Dennis. It's disgusting that you would make up something like this."

"I'm not!"

Dean gave him a LONG look before taking a breath. "I can see that you were happy, then unhappy I didn't believe you and now frustrated about us arguing. But that's not proof. I'm going to give Sophia the benefit of the doubt because she's our teammate now and deserves that respect. However, you're on the team too. So I'm going to suggest that you go home before you say anything else, get your head on straight and be better than this. Now please leave my room."

Completely frustrated, but not willing to fight a losing battle anymore, Dennis left. He would go home, away from the absolute asshole who was being forced upon them. But he would not go and sulk. Oh no.

He had some reading to do, and a point to make.

Because he WAS a hero damn it, and that fucking jackass was not going to get away with claiming the same!

Chapter Text

Two days later, Dennis was beginning to question his decision.

The number of rules and regulations about reporting a Ward were just fucking nuts. Unauthorized recording devices in the general Wards area were considered a possible security violation, so he could not just whip out a spy camera or hidden recorder. Which sucked for dramas sake, but still made any debate into a stupid he said she said situation. A conflict that his previous attitude, based on Armsmaster and Dean, made that much more difficult to win.

So that left official patrols and filed complaints. But officially filed complaints between Wards could be treated like tissue paper by the upper brass at will because, once he translated some of the legal language via the internet and a couple of dictionaries, teenagers were little bundles of drama just waiting for a chance to tear into their peers. So, to be taken seriously, the issue had to be observed by the Protectorate or PRT staff.

As to official patrols…that could work. But the bitch was not even scheduled for a baby run for another week while she bonded with her teammates. Something that he was not looking forward to in the least…

Dean's attitude didn't help matters. Both Carlos and Rory had spoken to the fake Tinker after Dennis had left and were not happy about the accusation. However, none of them were dumb enough to think he has become a stupid Empire plant, but they also did not want to see the team dynamic damaged. In the end, Armsmaster stepped in to straighten the group out, but he would not tell them why. So the redhead STILL looked like the asshole!

Now he was stuck sitting alone at lunch while Chris and Dean ate at their normal table. Kid Win was not taking a side here, but he also refused to martyr himself on Clockblocker's say-so. So no witty quips today! Just a whole lot of stupid brooding and angst bullshit.

Fuck he was going off brand! Now Glenn Chambers would have ANOTHER reason to want to kill him!

Fuck it, he didn't want to be alone, and he had plans he needed to fulfil. Thankfully, this was an 'off' time for the on again off again dating dance with Vicky and Dean. He was not sure what it's about, but he's just glad it happened. As such, he picked up his stuff, and his tray, and walked over to where Amy and Victoria were sitting.

The only open seat was next to Amy, and he happily took it. She gave him an unimpressed look, until she noticed who he actually was. She then realized that where he normally sat was piled with bags. "On the outs, huh?"

He sighed, "Yeah, they hate that one of the new people at work is someone I know is a bitch. I just can't prove it. They think it's a race thing, but it really isn't."

She nudged him, taking his wrist, "Yeah?"

He snorted, "Yeah, her name's Sophia, and I saw her at a charity mocking a disabled girl."

Amy's face tightens, "What a bitch." Her hand dropped, "Why do they think it's a race thing?"

"Sophia's black."

"Oh."

"Who's back?" Vicky asks, looking around her sister's face.

Amy rolled her eyes, "Nobody's back. Dennis's coworker is black, and she's a bitch. But his coworkers think it's a race thing."

"What? Tell me!"

So he told her, filling in more than he told Amy. Even explaining about the redhead named Emma. Vicky's eyes lit up in understanding, so she knew exactly what he was talking about. It's clear that Amy also recognized exactly what they were talking about now, too, and wasn't happy about it, either.

Amy, once Dennis was done, said, "Keep me out of your schemes."

He held his hands up, "I never planned on getting you involved."

She gave him a disbelieving look, but didn't argue, especially not when Vicky said, "Don't worry, Ames. It'll be between me and Dennis!"

If anything, the healer's face grew even more disturbed. "So…you're telling me that I should leave it to you two? Without having to worry about the city catching on fire? Really?"

Dennis could not help but smile at her expression. But it was Vicky's innocent tilt of the head that sent Amy face down onto the table in despair.

-----

Dean decided that a friendly chat between peers was more than enough grounds to corner him later that night. "What were you talking with Vicky about at lunch? Amy looked like she was going to have a heart attack there."

Reflecting on his frustration over the last few days, the redhead had a great idea. Evil as fuck but great. "Oh, we were just chatting about a thing we both were at. One of my punishments during the whole PR fiasco."

The armored teen seemed to relax. For all his Gallant bullshit, he could get kind of possessive of his on again, off again girlfriend. As if Dennis wanted to touch that drama with a ten foot pool. "Oh, was that all?"

Nodding brightly, he went in for the kill. "Oh yes, this trio of absolute bitches surrounded a little girl in a neck brace and started to verbally tear her apart. Vicky got right up in their faces at the time and it nearly shut the whole event down. It was quite the incident."

Dennis had to give the boy credit. It was not every day that someone could actually go completely white on command. "So…when you said that Sophia was bullying a little girl…"

His return smile was ice cold. "It was in full view of your girlfriend who came within an inch of hospitalizing all three of the little bitches. Including Sophia FUCKING Hess. I take it she might have said something?"

Somehow, the little bitch actually looked like he was getting paler. "Yes, she was very...vocal about that. And you're saying that one of these girls was Shadow Stalker?"

Dennis just kept smiling, even as the rich pretty boy groaned into his hand.

Looks like someone was going to be groveling to the missus for a while. Could not happen to a better guy.

Still, there was no reason to be a complete prick. He needed Dean's friendship more than he wanted vindication. By a little bit anyways. "Alright, before you go off to beg for forgiveness later, you have to promise me that you won't stop me from legitimately reporting her for violations and shit. Plus YOU get to clean things up with Carlos and Rory. Heck, Rory should have access to the damn incident report. Got it?"

Absolutely defeated, the empath nodded his head in agreement.

-----

Allies in his mission to remove a psychopath from the clubhouse were depressingly not hard to find.

Rory might have thought he was exaggerating, but Sophia hated EVERYTHING about being a Ward. Every single training exercise was a shit show, with the athletic teen refusing orders or just doing something different. As the team leader, Triumph had to deal with her failures as HIS failures, which did not look good for future opportunities in the Protectorate. So any New Girl goodwill got used up right quick.

Carlos shared that same frustration. He was the next team leader and shadowing a lot of the training issues that Triumph was putting up with. He had to see the constant disrespect, endure the commentary about how his power was not being used right, and skip patrols in order to try and offer extra tutoring in protocols and procedure. The lack of appreciation and complete negativity managed to wear him out within three days. Which was a major record for the easy going guy.

Missy wanted a mentor or a peer. What she got was a nonstop stream of teasing, verbal harassment and escalating physical abuse. For some reason, Sophia seemed to think that the young blonde was an easy target. Being an actual professional, said Shaker Nine explicitly did not trip the teenager into the Bay.

Chris had spent most of his shifts hiding in his workshop. The sheer bitchy aura around Shadow Stalker seemed to scare the shit out of him. Especially when she complained that he could not Tinker her up some higher quality weapons. She had Tinkertech arrows for fuck's sake! What more did she expect as a Ward, self replicating nuclear warheads?

Yeah, it said something when a single bitch managed to alienate the whole team so fucking quickly. Now the trick was actually doing something about it.

The first one he went to was Vista, and said, "I have a list of complaints against Sophia."

"We all do, get in line," Vista snapped, scowling as she watched television in the common room.

"No, Vista, this is stuff that I need you to look over and sign as a witness to agree happened."

"No one cares what I think. If they cared, you think I'd still be here right now?"

Seeing as how Vista should have been picked up by her mother three hours ago, he saw her point, still, he went on. "Just… look at the first paper, okay?"

She glared at him, and glanced at it, "What about it? Who cares? I don't see how…" She slowed down, actually reading it now. "You… You're giving a complaint on my behalf?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" she asked, tugging a pillow into her arms, curling around it, and glaring at him above the top of it.

"Because I knew what time it was, had a pad of paper out, and was noting it down when she said the insults in the common room." He leaned over the back of the couch, "Look, I want her gone. I hate her, since she's terrible, but I don't have the power to just get rid of her on my say so. I need tangible evidence she's horrible. This is part of it. Can you sign these, saying she did this?"

"... yeah," Missy's voice is small, not a whisper but like she's trying to hide her hope. "I can do that. You really think this will help?"

"I do. I really do."

"Who you gonna give it to?"

"Armsmaster."

"Is he really going to do anything about it?"

"He's the one who gave me the documents to show how to do it."

She held out her hand for the pen, signing the documents, showing that she witnessed and certified that the verbal abuse that Shadow Stalker was throwing around at her. "Would… Nevermind."

"What, go on. I'm here. I'm listening."

"If I wrote down the other things she says when no one is around, would you back me up, and say you were there?"

"If it happened in a hallway, yeah. If it was in a locker room, no. I'm only willing to bend so far, Vista."

She giggled, "Okay."

"You need to know what time and date it happened. Make sure that I'm actually there in the building if you need me to back you, and we need to have our stories straight. Understand? Also, I really don't want it to be a lie. They may bring in Amy to test you, so please tell the truth."

Vista sighed, "No lying. Got it. Still, she does call me a little bitch sometimes."

"I believe you."

Missy perks up, "You do?"

"I do."

"Thank you, Clock."

-----

Dennis liked to think he was getting used to Armsmaster's moods at this point. Of course, most of them could be summed up as irritated, distracted or resigned, but it still counted! However, incredulous was a nice change of pace as he paged through nearly two hundred and seventy complaints. All of which were carefully documented one after another. He might not be the brightest bulb, but he would do a lot in pursuit of self-interest.

And boy was he interested in getting rid of that bitch.

Finally done with his review, the leader of the Protectorate seemed to examine the redhead carefully before speaking up. "I hope you understand that I'm going to have to speak with Triumph and Aegis about this. But if they collaborate with your position, steps will have to be taken."

Confident in his attention to detail, the Ward smiled. "Sir, I might joke around, but there is a line. Sophia Hess tramples all over that like a bull in a china shop. If I have to follow the rule book to get her off the team, I will do so with gusto." Which was STILL not a race thing. No matter how twitchy Dean had been while sucking up to an unamused Vicky.

Armsmaster shrugged before filing the reports away and writing up a receipt. "This is definitely a concern and a threat to team discipline. However, I'm not sure it will be enough to convince the Director to cut Sophia loose. It may be enough to push for more stringent oversight, but only time will tell how things develop. Keep working within the rules and we will continue to take this seriously. Dismissed."

The runaround set off Dennis's BS alarm. The whole conversation felt like a big bunch of ass covering, which was not a solution to their bitch problem.

Oh well, in the words of comedy greats, he had not yet BEGUN to fight!

Chapter Text

Dennis did not really believe he was going to get what he wanted. Well, he could only hope that the sheer amount of trees they had to murder to show how much of an evil bitch Sophia was would at least add manslaughter charges to whatever bullshit agreement she had with the PRT. But what he ACTUALLY thought would happen were a few firm words, failure for said words to sink in, repeating the barrage of complaints and so on until Armsmaster and Piggy threw their hands up and gave in.

The results of their little gambit sort of came out of left field.

Chris, normally laid-back and friendly, was actually full on puncturing his lunch tray with his fork. "She's going out with Armsmaster tonight. Two hours of wandering the Docks playing sidekick when I can't even get fifteen minutes of help with my hoverboard! Who the hell do I have to kill to get that sort of attention?" It was more raw anger Dennis had seen from the kid since they had first started hanging out. He did not like that look at all.

Quickly checking around for any eavesdroppers, Dean whispered harshly. "Yes, and it was Miss Militia yesterday and Battery on Saturday. Now please keep it down. We really shouldn't be talking about this here…"

"About what?"

The boys looked up to see the Dallon sisters wandering over to their table. Judging from the angry debate between…Sandy? Stacey? Something with an S. One of Glory's groupies and her boyfriend, there appeared to be trouble in popularity paradise. Or maybe the shiny new bag on the blonde's had turned the power couple back on.

Smiling like a shark, Vicky took a seat right next to Dean. Once again, Amy took the seat by Dennis with a smirk. "Really, what should you not be talking about in the middle of the cafeteria surrounded by your classmates? Some dastardly scheme like using the wrong fork at the country club?" Then she lowered her voice, leaning into his shoulder. "Or is it something a little more work related?"

Dean valiantly held back for all of ten seconds before cracking. "Work related. There have been some developments with upper management that are frustrating. Signs of preferential treatment and all that." Which was a nice, political take on what was ACTUALLY going on, but that was the white knight for you. Polite to a fault.

A fact that Vicky was well aware of. "A…huh. And that's the reason that Chris looks ready to punch out Hookwolf? Anyone want to give me the real scoop? Pretty please with sugar on top?" Watching the way that her boyfriend squirmed under her gaze reaffirmed the red head's desire to stay single for the foreseeable future.

But…since she asked so nicely…

"The bitch we hate gets to spend time with Armsy tonight, while she had the last two days with Battery and Militia," Dennis said flatly.

"In a way you all wish would happen to you, I take it," Amy said, eyebrow raised.

There was a screech as Chris dragged the fork across his lunch tray, until Carlos snagged it from him to stop the tinker from defacing school property further. Chris hissed angrily, "I can't even get him to look at my things, and she gets to ride along with him for two fucking hours. Two hours! I'm going to rip her hair out!"

Vicky looked taken aback at that stance of violence from the unusually laid-back Tinker, but Amy just looked impressed. Everyone else at the table was just tired or unhappy, not wanting others to overhear.

She asked, "Uh… right. How's Missy taking things? You know, what with the other two ride alongs?"

"What do you think?" Chris snarled, looking ready to snap metal with his teeth.

"... Ah."

"Yeah," Dennis said, smiling with false cheer. "I love it almost as much as she does."

"Dennis," Vicky said, "I imagine the only one close to loving it as much as Missy is Chris, here."

"Murder," the Tinker muttered, shoving his tray away, and pulling out a notebook to work on what looked like homework. Maybe.

It didn't look like his Tinkering notebook, but Dennis wasn't really one to keep track of such things.

Although if it started filling up with strange chemical equations he was bugging the fuck out.

Amy smirked at her sister's expression before speaking up. "So…if everyone is so pissed, have the people in charge tried justifying their bullshit yet? Or are you all being ignored while they pay attention to the bitch?" The round of flinches almost pushed the table over.

Carlos, kind, noble and stupid man that he was, took charge. "Officially they're responding to our concerns with greater oversight in order to evaluate the extent of the problem. Hence all the one on one attention."

The blonde Dallon, clearly smelling blood in the water, leaned forward with a smile. "And UNOFFICIALLY…?"

Dennis, ready for this, shrugged his shoulders dramatically. "We have UNofficially been reminded about how much we need to understand her fucking circumstances by half the Protectorate and our liaison at great length. Although, I think Rennick is still ducking us after what Missy did to his office."

Dean, as was his nature, tried to play peacemaker. "It wasn't that bad."

All of his fellow Wards replied at once. "Oh yes, it was."

Leaning closer to Amy, Dennis whispered in her ear. "It involved colors that man was not meant to know and nearly accomplishing a maneuver that would normally be physically impossible."

Her snort was music to his very tired ears.

-----

Dennis was walking out of the boy's area and into the common space when he heard Missy speaking in a frustrated voice, "Stop complaining about going out on patrols with the Protectorate."

"I'll do what I want, you little bitch. Not like you understand."

Walking out entirely, he nodded at Missy, and pulled out a piece of paper, making a note of what Sophia said, and the time. Sophia didn't seem to notice or care that he did it by this point, so he just did it in the open, making note taking a thing that he just did around her.

Maybe, for all she knew, he did this to everyone. Which was weird, to have the comedy cape be super serious about rules, but whatever. He just hated her and her behavior. If she wasn't so fucking terrible to everyone, he'd be more inclined to ignore her. But no, she just wasn't … a good person.

They had to get rid of her.

Missy glared at Sophia, stating, "Do you know how hard it is to get the Protectorate to patrol with you? And you got three in a row?"

"Fuck off, you little- Just… go away. You wouldn't get it. It's clear you don't get it." Sophia sneered, and physically shoved Missy away from her, stalking into the girl's section to get away from the younger girl. "I'm gonna get dressed now."

Once Missy regained her footing from the push, she looked ready to blow her top. She took several stomps towards the girl's section, so Dennis hurried over to stop her. "Hey! Vista!"

Missy froze, glancing at him, then at herself, fully dressed in costume. She took several calming breaths, possibly with her eyes closed. After what he assumed was a ten count, she said, "Clock."

"You okay?"

"No."

"Want to talk about it?"

"She called me a whore!"

"... shit." He certainly believed it. He may not have heard it, but he believed it. "Want me to back you up on the complaint?"

"Yes!"

"Done." He pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to her, "Write it down, and I'll sign it to add my signature, say I was in the hallway and heard it before walking out."

"Thanks."

"Anything else you want to tell me?"

The shorter Cape seemed to mull it over before replying in an extremely bitter tone. "No, it's just…ARGH. I've been a Ward for two years and have a grand total of five Protectorate ride alongs. FIVE. A..and she's bitching that she gets three in one week? Doesn't she realize what it means?!"

Dennis shrugged. "Still pretty new here myself. I can guess, but I'm mostly pissed because everyone else is. Especially because she's just acting horribly. So lay it on me."

Vista looked around before hissing bile. "Being a Ward is about being trained to be a future HERO. The Protectorate is SUPPOSED to help work with us, but Brockton Bay is usually too busy for that. So we get online courses and self study. A ride along like that? It's an actual chance for proper mentoring! It's a reward saying that you've…you've PROVEN yourself as a hero and they want to help you get better! And…and…"

Surprised by the sudden breakdown, Dennis shielded her from the wider room. "And…?"

Shuddering, she forced her voice back under control. "And…what if the reason that Armsmaster and the rest are doing this is because they think she's doing things right? That they're tired of us complaining and this is their way of letting us know that she's somehow a better hero than us? It sounds crazy right?"

Oh yes, absolutely moronic.

That did not make the idea any easier to ignore.

-----

As the week progressed, Dennis felt his mood slip further down into the toilet. Everyone was angry at Sophia for being a bitch, the Protectorate for rewarding it, and Piggy the idiot who recruited her in the first place. Just completing his hours on console was an exercise in futility, as every attempt at working with the patrols led to biting comments and frustrated PR bullshit. While not quite as violent as Missy, everyone was in a shit mood.

Then he had to take care of this crap.

Typing out his third and final leave request form, this time for the Protectorate scheduling program, the Wards liaison Paulina Grayson cracked a smile. For a glorified office drone the older woman could be pretty understanding about paperwork bullshit for special circumstances. "Alright Clockblocker, you're all set for this upcoming Monday. I wish you could have given us some more notice but family is family."

In no mood to even think about the upcoming piles of tubes and whispered words of encouragement, he shrugged. "Yeah, sorry about that. One of Dad's doctors had to reschedule his treatment 'cause of a conflict or something. Mom…mom wants us together."

Paulina was really good, since she didn't ask what the treatment was for this time; she knew he wouldn't want to answer. It's always the same sort of thing, and it poked at him in the most painful way. So when she just nodded, and accepted it, he's always grateful.

He's about to get up, when someone popped in, saying bossily, "These are for Shadow Stalker. Do not get them mixed up again." Then she dumped the papers on Paulina's desk, and flounced away.

"Bitch," Dennis muttered, unable to help himself.

Paulina sighed, saying, "I should reprimand you for that, but that's Stalker's caseworker, and she's a real piece of work, so I have to agree with you."

He started to help her gather up the scattered papers, not really looking at them, "If she acts like that, how does she keep her job?"

That got a dropping of Paulina's voice, and she said, "Don't spread this around, Clock, okay? I'm serious."

He already knew he wasn't going to, Paulina's job was more important than whatever she told him. "Yes. Absolutely," he told her in his most serious voice. He wasn't lying, and he would keep this secret.

Unless it was illegal or whatever, but then he'd keep Paulina's name the fuck out of it, of course. It's that sort of shit, but Paulina wouldn't tell him illegal shit. So it was all moot point.

"Shadow Stalker has a caseworker since she's a probationary Ward." Right, he knew that. It was a thing that was a given, so he just nodded in agreement. "Her caseworker is related to one of the higher ups, and if she manages to get the girl reformed, there's a sure promotion in the books."

".... Motherfucker," Dennis curses. With feeling.

Chapter Text

Velocity took his time scoping out the meeting room, both with and without his power. It was one of his favorite tricks, really. Between specially formatted books on tape and constantly running everywhere at an altered perspective, he had grown skilled at reading expressions from sheer repetition. So he would often cheat when dealing with his team just to get ahead of the latest drama. Because no one did drama better than Parahumans, besides the occasional teenager.

Armsmaster had a killer poker face, and Miss Militia cheated with long practice, but Battery was an open book. The determined frown, the stiff posture, the signs she was about to reflexively charge her power…yeah, this was going to be one of those meetings. Thankfully their leader did not like wasting time. "Thank you all for coming. I'm afraid that we are gathered here because of a developing discipline issue in the Wards. Specifically, Sophia Hess."

Ethan, as relaxed as his wife was tense, laughed out loud. "You mean the girl who likes to pin thugs to walls with hunting arrows who we planned on rehabilitating? The one who managed to inspire the rest of the kiddos to fight back using bureaucracy? Why, I can't imagine how that could be a problem, big guy." The elbow to the side was almost textbook at this point. The actual grunt of discomfort was not. Someone was not holding back per normal.

Used to the byplay, and clearly over trying to stop it, Armsmaster continued flatly. "Indeed. Given the source of the complaint, I didn't give it much weight at first. But the speed with which his teammates spoke up and provided their own examples caught my attention. A more personal evaluation, with secondary reviews by both Miss Militia and Battery appear to support our current conclusion. Shadow Stalker should not remain a Ward."

Robin nodded at that, agreeing easily. He was waiting on someone else to second the statement so that he could leave this boring meeting when Dauntless cleared his throat. In a disagreeing way. Velocity went to his breaker state at full so he could make his frustrated face quickly before going back to as neutral of an expression as possible before dropping back into real time.

But seriously, the meeting was almost done, and then that. Fuck.

"And who gave the original complaint?"

Armsmaster's expression tightened, but he answered, "Clockblocker."

Dauntless said sarcastically, "Clockblocker? Really? And you expect us to believe that this isn't just a more popular Ward shoving out the new one?"

"It isn't. The amount of complaints that have nothing to do with Shadow Stalker, and have nothing to do with Clockblocker show that this is Clockblocker showing that they now have a voice, and want to be heard. Shadow Stalker is just the loudest part of the problems they have."

"Like what?"

Armsmaster sighs, "The fridge's ice maker is broken, and needs to be fixed."

"That needs to be taken to the-"

"It's been taken to Paulina Grayson. Multiple times. She's told people the fridge needs to be replaced. No one has replaced it. Now the Wards are complaining to me," the last sentence was said in a growl.

"Then fix it," Shawn says, dismissively.

"I can take the money out of your paycheck."

The snap of Dauntless's mouth shutting was audible.

Satisfied that the big, shining idiot would stay quiet for now, Colin slumped. "As I said before, I also dismissed the initial complaint. Clockblocker has his own issues with discipline, although he clearly demonstrates a desire to be a hero. But his complaint was supported by actual documentation and independent witness statements. Therefore, I provided him with the appropriate forms and guidelines for submitting proper complaints. I did not expect it to expose a major issue with the local Wards team. But that has happened and we have to handle it. Starting with Shadow Stalker."

Velocity took a breath, while reviewing the facts so far. He would rather just call the meeting five minutes ago, but this seemed much more serious than he thought. "Ummm…why are we focusing on her first? If it's a general problem with the program, shouldn't we just drag this all to Piggot and make her sort it out?"

Miss Militia actually spoke up. "I've read the paperwork, and most of it appears to be PRT misappropriation. Which will be…difficult to prove. However, the Wards are still technically under the Protectorate chain of command, so we can pursue discipline issues more aggressively. And I agree that, based upon what I have seen so far, she is not an appropriate Ward candidate."

Ethan shot his wife a look. "Huh, didn't you drag little miss Emo Chick on a ride along last week, Puppy? How bad was she under your gentle care and guidance?" The tone was slightly less sarcastic than normal, which indicated he was actually concerned.

Her return gaze was grim. "Our fourth date at the roller rink bad."

The smile immediately left his face. "Sir, I would like to personally second the motion that Shadow Stalker be removed from the Wards immediately."

Acknowledging the statement with another sigh, the Protectorate leader made a note. "Very well. Unfortunately, at this point the situation is not seen as time sensitive so I'll have to schedule an appointment with the Director to make it happen. But we will hopefully have one less troublemaker in the department by the end of the week."

Intimately aware of the speed of paperwork, Robyn was not holding his breath.

-----

Dennis sat at the lunch table, nibbling his fries, waiting for Dean to finally sit down. Once the boy did, he said, "Okay, here's the deets."

"Who talks like that?"

"Shut up," he told Dean, continuing on. "I found an anonymous source I promised not to reveal that gave me some very important info."

The rest of the table rolled their eyes, and Carlos said, "Just… get on with it. Stop being cagey, and tell us what we need to know."

"Fine. Sophia's caseworker is highly connected, and my source implied that the caseworker is gonna soft sell anything she does since she's up for a promotion if Sophia manages to get off probation."

"... Fuck," seemed to be the general consensus.

"That's basically what I thought, yeah." He sighed, running his hand through his hair, not sure what to do.

Chris said, stabbing one of his little smokies, "Why don't we just shove her off a roof?"

"No good," Vicky said, leaning over them, and stealing one of Dean's fries, "Murder is bad. You're all good little boys. Hey babe." She gave Dean a peck of a kiss.

"We're talking about the bitch," Dennis informed her.

Vicky nodded, "Ah. In that case, still no good, she'd just change, and land softly on the ground."

Amy said, poking Chris, "You need to calm down, it isn't good for your blood pressure. Anyway, how about you stage an accident, and I just refuse to heal her?" She poked each of the boys in turn, "Carlos, you need more vitamin C." With that, she grabbed Vicky, and pulled her away, ignoring how her sister whined, just saying, "You have homework, you told me!"

The remaining teens shared a look before Carlos spoke up. "Before you say it, Dennis, no one is going to set her up. I'd apply for a body cam first and arrange to cover all of her patrols. With how much of a pain in the ass she is, we'll have actionable evidence sooner rather than later."

Holding up his hands, the red head smirked. "Yeah, it might be satisfying, but no reason to give anyone ammunition. I'm just going to aggressively document every time she follows her gut on patrol. I'd be more worried about Chris to be honest."

Flushed at the sudden attention, the boy in question mumbled, "Can't I just think about it a little?" The forlorn expression was enough to get a half hearted chuckle out of his friends.

-----

Three days later, no one was laughing.

Armsmaster was back in the common room, practically looming over a wilting Kid Win and angry looking Vista. Everyone else was just trying to stay quiet and under the radar with one notable exception. "Shadow Stalker is still in the infirmary being evaluated, but in the meantime I thought you could explain to ME why you shot her. You should know better than this!"

Before the younger Tinker could respond, his partner stepped forward. "Sir, we were completing our patrol near the Boardwalk when we received reports about a group of suspected Empire members tagging a residence. Clearance was given to pursue, so Kid Win and I called for their surrender. When they pulled out handguns, we presumed weapons were free and began to fight back. At that point, Shadow Stalker appeared without warning or official notice and got caught in the crossfire."

Still angry, he turned to Kid Win. "Is that accurate?"

Chris looked up nervously but nodded. "Yeah…I just saw a strange shadow approaching from my blind spot and fired using that tr…er…advanced firing protocol due to the angle. I wasn't expecting it to be Sophia. Wasn't she off duty hours ago?"

Armsmaster looked more tired than angry now, and said, "She was." He frowned at Vista and Kid Win, "Unfortunately, for all that I believe you, I can't let friendly fire go without punishment."

"What?!?" shouted Vista. "It's not his fault!"

"I can add you to his punishment as well."

"Yeah. Do it," she said defiantly.

It's clear that Armsmaster wasn't expecting that, since he straightened at the demand. Still, he nodded, "Very well, console duty for the both of you. A week each. It would have been two weeks for Kid Win, but since Vista offered, I decided to split it." His mouth quirked into a small smile. "Good teamwork."

With that, he turned around, and walked out of the common room.

As soon as the door closed, everyone rushed towards the two and Chris's knees gave out, him landing on the edge of the couch. "Fuck. Did you see how scary he was?"

"Yes!" Dean clapped the other boy on the back, "But it's really clear you didn't mean to shoot her at all."

Dennis said, "But the real hero here? Missy! Yooooooo! Missy! Standing up to Armsy like it ain't nothing at all! Holy shit! How does she do it? I know! I can't do something like that!"

Missy looks smug, "Well, I just knew that someone had to."

"Hell yeah! I know that if there's a screw up on patrol, I call Missy as my team lead," Dennis says easily. Her small blush made it even better!

Carlos finally got them under control before someone could suggest a pizza party. "For now, we're going to remember that friendly fire is dangerous and shouldn't be taken lightly. Shadow Stalker is LUCKY she just got clipped a little. Between her reaction time and powers, the worst she's looking at right now is a hairline fracture. I don't know if they're going to make her come in or not, but pay attention to your phones for further updates. For now, Missy and Chris can finish out their shift and the rest of you can go home. I have a meeting with Rory tonight and can't babysit all of you jokers."

Dennis was surprised when Dean offered a ride home. Things had been getting better since they cleared up that misunderstanding, but they were not usually that close. However it was late, he was tired and the air outside was freezing. So why not?

Thus, he got to be in a perfect position to hear Vicky call him on speaker phone, talking about how Amy had actually gone through with the whole boycotting of Shadow Stalker's healing despite what their mother said. An argument that had dried up when she reminded the woman about a certain incident in the recent past. Brandish had mostly stayed out of the whole thing, but even bloodsucking lawyers did not approve of entitled brats. Well, entitled brats that did not sign her paychecks.

Dennis did not normally believe in karma, but damn it if it did not throw out a bone every now and then!

Chapter Text

Going in to work the day after a hospital visit always sucked. Dennis had to sit by his father's side, staying strong with a dwindling amount of willpower, and pray that THIS time would be different. That this would be the pill or IV or medical miracle that would remove his family from an endless cycle of hope and despair. But, as had always happened, he was disappointed and left to wallow in his own helplessness.

Unfortunately, Rory had called an all hands on deck meeting and he was already on thin ice. Well, he assumed so anyways. Every submitted complaint against Sophia was clearly making his boss twitchier and twitchier as they came in. "Alright, what's the big emergency? If I'm in, I'm due to wander the Boardwalk in like half an hour." Which would be its own sort of emotionally draining hell, but what else was new.

Looking extremely determined, Triumph stood at parade rest. ACTUAL parade rest! All that preparation for the big leagues had clearly been a bad influence on the guy. "Right, I'll try to keep it brief. Shadow Stalker is officially on medical leave for the next two weeks while her recent injury heals."

The group exchanged confused looks before Carlos bit the bullet. "Um, yes? We all know that Amy refused healing on the grounds that it was not life threatening and off the clock. It's not like she could safely patrol with an injured arm." Well, sometimes Dennis wondered, but even Piggy would not be that stupid, right? Not when weapons recoil could fuck her up even more.

The older Cape made very deliberate eye contact with his teammates before continuing. "Right, but I want you to know UNOFFICIALLY that she's been written up for a violation of her probation. Sophia has a lot of rules surrounding her time and Cape persona. Going out on unsanctioned, independent patrols is definitely grounds for punishment that could even include voiding the original agreement."

The murmuring for that announcement was loud, but Dennis stayed silent. He didn't want to be singled out for talking, even at the good news. This was unofficial, afterall, and they can't actually know it.

Rory cleared his throat, quietening everyone else down. "Right, next, you need to know that she will have a close eye kept on her so she doesn't void her medical leave in any way, as an extension of voiding the agreement."

"Including doing track?" Missy asked.

"What?" Rory asked, looking confused.

"She does track, she bragged about it to me."

"She… does… what?" Rory asked, looking angry. "That's illegal."

"She did all sorts of things she's not supposed to," Dennis said, irritated, "what's one more?"

Rory scowled, "Clearly." The older boy took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Right. Now, I want to let everyone know that we should keep up the non-Sophia related complaints. We don't want them to think this was just a targeted attack."

"We were doing complaints that weren't just about Sophia?" Dennis asked, feeling confused.

That got lots of yelling, but he could hear Dean say something about not wanting to keep buying the games, and Carlos needing ice for the soda. Missy was yelling something, too, but he sure couldn't make it out. Poor Chris, next to him, scowled and said, "Armsmaster needs to help me with my fucking TINKERING."

"... Okay," Dennis said softly, just accepting it, and realizing he won't be heard.

It's very clear that the Wards have complaints, and Dennis just opened the floodgates. He just hoped that it wasn't really traced entirely back to him. All he wanted was to get rid of a problem Ward. The other Wards want to fix random ass problems in the common room and the mentoring system.

That ain't on him!

-----

The difference between murdering a forest every other day to file paperwork and being caught on an illegal patrol was surprisingly dramatic. While handing in properly completed forms had just made Armsmaster sigh, a slightly broken bone got the Wards into interview rooms within the next couple of days. Of course, that also involved triplicate as Miss Militia, Battery and Velocity interviewed them one on one before having a colleague do it again. All asking questions and poking holes in their campaign to kick out their probationary teammate.

The only part of it Dennis really enjoyed at this point was messing with Miss Militia. Pulling out his OWN copies of the submitted complaints actually broke her reservations beautifully.

Well, at least for a couple of seconds.

Trying to make eye contact over the piles of paperwork, the senior Protectorate hero spoke up in a perfect PR tone. "Now Dennis, I know that you were not present at the incident in question. However, a lot of the original complaints surrounding Shadow Stalker seem to have come from you. I've heard quite a few different stories about how that happened, but I'd like you to explain it to me one more time please."

It seemed like such a waste really. How many times did he have to relive that disgusting moment? But, resigned to doing what was needed, he explained the initial meeting AGAIN and what he had seen her do, AGAIN. He was almost tempted to write up cue cards at this point!

Miss Militia hummed under her breath. "That is, quite frankly, horrible behavior and I agree that it is not the sort of attitude that we want in our Wards. However, I've seen stupid teenagers turn it around more than once, and rarely with so much support. In fact, if I had my way as a teen, Mouse Protector would have been kicked to the curb. Yet you believe that she's absolutely irredeemable and incapable of change. Why is that?" There was no actual judgment in her words, but he felt defensive anyways. Short of learning Portuguese, he could not figure out how to say it any plainer!

That did not mean he would not try.

He took a deep breath, and thought it over, stating to the best of his ability, "One of the many things she did was insult Vista. I'm sure you know that. Calling her a whore and a bitch. She'd mock Kid Win for his learning disability, insist Aegis was stupid, Rory talked too much when he barely spoke, called Dean a girl, and didn't do much to me, since I was clearly out for her blood from day one. She seemed to respect that I despised her. Honestly, I think that just made her stupid, and I admit that I don't like that about her. She's just not a very smart person, and not a good person on top of it. I can accept stupid, and I can accept kind of a not good person, I guess. But not when it's both at the same time. I honestly don't like not being a good person, either, but she's just terrible."

"And yet, when the patrol happened, she came to the defense of Vista and Kid Win," she says. He's about to argue, but she doesn't give him time, continuing, "When I was younger, Mouse Protector thought she was funny, and that it was more important to be funny than to do some things. Yet, when it came down to it, she would protect my back. Do you think that Shadow Stalker would do that?"

"No," he snaps, not letting her gaslight him. "Absolutely not. Never. She didn't come to the defense of Vista and Kid Win. If she said she did, she's a liar. She did it to show off. Or to claim their victory as her own, or whatever was going through her head."

She hums, and there's a scratch of pen, "I see."

Unwilling to let it stay at that, Dennis stood. "I hope you do. Like REALLY hope so. Because Shadow Stalker is not some misunderstood kid who just needs a guiding hand. She's just someone who wants to lash out at acceptable targets. I bet you ten bucks that the absolute SECOND she thinks she can get away with it, she's going to go hunting at will. Then what are we going to do if the bad guys think that's sanctioned Ward behavior? How many thugs are going to take the gloves off because she wants to be a badass?"

Miss Militia paused, before putting down the pen. "Clockblocker, I realize that you are passionate about this. And I don't think you're wrong really. But if you let your temper get the best of you nothing productive is going to happen. Especially since I'd expect more questions like this after Armsmaster has his meeting with Director Piggot."

Confused by the comment, his eyes went wide. "Wait, meeting with the Director? He's actually going to…?!"

Then the professional expression broke, revealing a glint in her eyes that reminded the teen of cordite. "Indeed, I'm sure they're going to have a LOT to talk about, especially where Shadow Stalker is concerned. Oh, and Mouse Protector? She was more manic than toxic, although even to this day I still avoid her Christmas Cards when I can. That doesn't mean I think she would do half of this. Which is EXACTLY what my report is going to say. Now send in Kid Win so we can put this mess to bed already."

Shocked but strangely hopeful, he did just that.

-----

Director Emily Piggot did not like or trust Parahumans. She knew that, at their core, they were just bundles of ego and temper that lashed out to hide from themselves. The best she could do as a mere mortal, sickly woman was herd them like cats while applying enough bandaids and duct tape to keep them semi-functional. Some examples like Miss Militia and Battery seemed capable of holding it together, despite serious personality flaws. Others though…

There was not enough glue and cotton on the planet.

Take Armsmaster for example. Constantly pushing the envelope, desperate for validation and success in a pit with human trafficking and Nazis they could not touch without a war. He did what he could and often more than that, but it left him isolated and awkward. Taking the Wards away from his precious headquarters and giving them proper minders was the only thing she could have done. So of course, in true Brockton Bay fashion, it was coming back to bite her. "She's barely been a Ward for a month and a half. She's due to get shipped off to Alexandria's boot camp in a week for proper retraining. Are you ABSOLUTELY sure that Shadow Stalker is unsalvageable?"

Clearly out of fucks to give, he pointed to the staggering number of complaints he had carted in. "While young, the other Wards are allowed to file legitimate complaints as long as they follow the guidelines. In light of the sheer volume, Miss Militia, Battery and myself all ran her out on a ride along each to observe her attitude in person. Coupled with the recent friendly fire incident and lack of demonstrated desire to change, it would be a waste of time and resources to continue this. She's legitimately more trouble than she's worth."

Emily did not love the fact that he had a fucking point. The lack of class would be pretty normal in a boot camp, but that was intended for adults for a reason. Teenagers showing such disrespect without real consequences did not really learn from it. But the lack of discipline on patrol, the off the books bullshit, the sinking morale…

Well, it was more than enough to junk the original deal. But just kicking her out without even considering a transfer was not the national policy. Something that Wallis normally paid VERY close attention to.

She sighed, grabbing a random item on the pile, and kept from wincing. Sophia tripping Kid Win on the stairs. Fuck. She grabbed another, and groaned aloud, "Is this true?"

"What is it?"

"Stalker calling Vista a whore?"

"According to Clockblocker and Vista? Yes."

"Look, we can still ship her to Alexandria and transfer her."

"Not with this number of complaints, director. It just isn't feasible."

"It is. We can just-" Emily cut off to the sound of her phone going off, and she scowls, since she said not to bother her right now. But since it is going off, it had to be an emergency. Checking the caller ID, she's confused, since it's Agent Carmichael. That's… Shadow Stalker's caseworker, she believes?

How did the woman even get her phone number?

Picking it up, Emily snarls, "This better be important, Carmichael."

The woman's voice was fluttery in distress, and she said, "It's Hess, ma'am!"

"Yeah, I gathered! What did she do?!"

"She, uh, she… Oh, nevermind, you don't need to know, I just-"

"Carmichael, you called me, you tell me."

"There's been a public assault at Winslow, Ma'am, and Sophia's at fault…."

She's going to kill that girl.

Chapter Text

Taylor carefully checked around the corner, trying to get safely out of Winslow for the day. Every step ached from half healed bruises and scrapes, but she dared not waste any time. After the last month, she was fairly sure she was going end up in traction pretty soon. At the rate that Sophia FUCKING Hess was going, she was about due to become another statistic in the Bay. Hell, wandering around ABB territory after midnight would probably be safer at this point!

Emma, Sophia and later Madison had always upped the ante since day one of Freshman year. Taunting, shoving, rumors and ruined homework all made a descent into madness worthy of Poe! Well, maybe more like that guy Stephen King before the original Slaughterhouse Nine tried to get his autograph but the principle still applied. Either way, it was the stuff that horror novelas were made of.

But now it was less enduring emotional punches and dodging literal ones. Sophia had been in a god damned MOOD for a while now, lashing out at progressively smaller and smaller things. Hits came harder, evidence was mounting and now, in addition to rumors about Taylor's supposed various criminal activities, she had to dodge neighbors who thought her dad was abusing her! She would have probably cracked and told him about everything going on if he had been around the last couple of weeks!

Now her goal was almost in sight, Sophia had been called to the Principal's Office, and the other two were content with some biting comments and evil laughter. This was her best chance to get home and try to figure out, for maybe the millionth time, how to talk to her parent and get free from this nightmare. There was a big difference between not sinking to the bully's level and ending up in a body bag!

The desperate flight to freedom was interrupted by a hard, calloused fist cracking her cheek. While her glasses went flying, removing her sight, Taylor's ears worked perfectly fine. So she caught every word of the growling psychopath. "Where the FUCK do you think you're running off to, Hebert?" The sheer LOATHING in those words made her aware of one, absolute truth. Her time was truly up.

"Wha-?" she slurred, confused, not the most coherent, but it was what it was. One wasn't at their most intelligible when punched in the face. She stumbled back, slipping on something as she did so, but managing to catch herself, if barely.

"Trying to escape after tattling to the Principal about me being Parahuman, bitch?" Sophia hisses, voice low, poking Taylor sharply in the chest.

"Para'uma'n?!?" The fuck? Sophia's a cape? Shit! Taylor was really going to die! She's dead, and no one was going to find her body! She never knew Sophia was a cape, but now that Sophia thought she knew, she's fucked.

"And since you told Blackwell, I can't. Do! Track! Anymore!" Sophia worked from hissing anger to screams and from poking to punches, slamming hard into Taylor's face, forcing her down to the floor.

That's when things got chaotic, and Taylor didn't remember much other than screaming and pain. Sophia would slam her foot into Taylor's hands, arms, head, chest, and more. All Taylor truly remembered was how she was surrounded by people all around her, yelling and cheering who wouldn't save her. All while Sophia screamed and beat her while blaming her for something she didn't do.

Taylor was going to die, surrounded by people, being beaten to death by a cape, and no one would save her.

[DESTINATION]

-----

Vicky had to admit that playing security at the hospital was an odd change of pace. Amy had been called in for emergency healings before, Brockton Bay being it's normal, charming sewer pit of a home. But rarely did the PRT come crawling hat in hand for something specific. Even if it involved an attack on a school.

Another change of pace was the plainclothes PRT agent tailing along the great Panacea, notebook in hand. He seemed incredibly focused on cataloging every injury he could in exacting detail, which was clearly beginning to drive her sister up the wall. It was not the first time she had been asked to be a human scanning device, but it was a rare day that she had so many to do in a row.

Finally bored after the fifth guy with a dislocated shoulder got checked over, the teen hero moved down the line where a particularly annoyed teen in a football jersey was waiting his turn with another officer. "So…not to be too insensitive, but what exactly happened here? Was there some sort of brawl that got out of hand or something?"

The agent opened his mouth, but it was the patient who got there first. "One of the track members went full blown psycho! Started tearing into a freshie chick near the school entrance. I tried to do SOMETHING but there were too many idiots in the way and she hits like a fucking mule. Total roid rage on that one!"

Which sounded bad. "Wait, you just tried to get in the way to help some random girl? Have we seen them yet?"

The PRT agent's mouth thinned, but he did answer afterwards, "She is stable, but we want everyone else out of the way first."

The guy with the bad shoulder says, "No fucking way, man! You're an asshole! I saw her before she went in the ambulance! Her eye was-"

"Thank you, Mr. Green," the agent snaps. "She is fine for now, and stable."

Mr. Green, clearly not cowed, said defiantly, "Her eye was hanging out, man! Fuck you!"

Vicky pats Green on the uninjured arm, saying, "Thank you."

"No problem, Glory Girl," he said, almost shyly, this time more charmed by her, unlike the asshole agent.

She waved at Green, then glared at the agent, before hurrying to Amy, saying, "We have a main victim being ignored, Ames."

Amy looked at her, scowling, "Likely for a reason, Vicky." Her sister turned to the agent she's dealing with, looking even more frustrated, "Scratches on the face, bruising on the left cheek, broken index finger."

As the agent scribbled that down, Vicky said, "One of the guys you haven't healed yet said that the main victim had her eye hanging out."

"The fuck?"

"Yeah."

Amy grabbed the agent by the hand, "How hurt is the main victim of the-"

"I'm not allowed to tell you that."

"Bitch, if you don't tell me, I'm going to just go home."

The agent clearly clenched his teeth, and pulled away, taking out a phone, and called a higher up. Vicky debated eavesdropping, but knew that it won't be worth it. After a little bit, the man said to Amy, "We are trying to minimize how much change will happen to her before evaluating the damage for evidence. She is stable, and under heavy sedation and painkillers. Her family is with her. Are you willing to continue what you are doing and follow protocol?"

Vicky's first response was to tell him to fuck himself. An eyeball dangling like that sounded way more important than some stupid checklist! But Amy got there first. "Fine, but make sure that the family pre-approves any healing. Stable doesn't mean safe and I'm not willing to regrow an organ because you are acting stupid. Now let's pick up the pace." The stooge seemed pissed but tough shit. They weren't there to spare his feelings.

Nearly a couple of dozen teens later, they were finally guided to a private room flanked with additional security. Extremely curious at this point, they entered to a distressing sight. A seriously skinny guy with thinning hair and glasses was sitting next to a mummy like figure attached to far too many machines. But the real surprise was the waiting Miss Militia checking messages off to the side.

Looking up from her phone, the Protectorate hero stood. "Ah, Panacea and Glory Girl. Sorry about the smoke and mirrors, but this incident has garnered some extra attention from unpleasant corners. I'm just acting as extra security for the moment, but I hope that you can help the poor girl heal while I focus on the justice part. If you would?"

The sisters exchanged a look. Even if this random girl was a person of interest, assigning the second in command of the local Protectorate team seemed like overkill. SOMETHING about this whole thing was sketchy as hell.

Then, receiving permission from the unnamed father, Amy touched the girl's bare skin.

"Oh, what the FUCK is this shit?!"

-----

"Oh, what the FUCK is this shit?!"

Despite maintaining professional standards, even Piggot had limits. Spending nearly twelve hours with one of her soon-to-be former Wards in holding had passed those by hour five. So she decided to indulge in some venting rather than alcohol that would kill her.

One of the countless drones from Legal eyed first her then the looming Armsmaster before pulling at his collar. He had been clearly been playing catch-up since the whole mess began. "Ac.. according to Agent Carmichael's report, she was due to fully read in Principal Blackwell about the Wards program once Shadow Stalker was sent to Alexandria's boot camp. But with her recent injury and Triumph's complaint, they moved it up to yesterday. Given that it's technically illegal for Parahumans to participate in sports programs, it was decided that they would use Shadow Stalker's injury as a chance to withdraw her from the Track Team. The Principal notified her this morning."

Unmoved by the presentation, the blonde GLARED down the idiot. "And WHY did this result in Hess aggressively targeting a skinny teenaged girl? Why the absolute HELL did she think it could possibly be this…this TWIG'S fault? How did she think she was going to get away with assault and ATTEMPTED MURDER in the middle of a school hallway? How did she NEARLY get away with it? What the HELL is the background there!?"

Armsmaster gestured for the suit to sit down. "Director, we're still going through the evidence. However, initial investigations have turned up some interesting facts. Particularly about her behavior and immediate social circle."

"So tell me," she snapped, unable to keep her frustration at bay. She knew Armsmaster didn't deserve it, but fuck. She was so damn tired and wanted something to cling to for a reason.

He pushed a file towards her, and she ignored it. At her raised eyebrows, he said, "Shadow Stalker ran with a group of two other girls named Madison Clements and Emma Barnes."

"Barnes…." she trailed off, recognizing the name from somewhere.

"Stalker's lawyer was Alan Barnes, Emma Barnes's father. Which is how she got him," he informed her. She clenched her teeth in frustration, but he went on, "The administration ignored their harassment of Taylor Hebert, the assault victim-"

"I know her name, go on."

"-due to the popularity of the three and threats of Alan Barnes. The three bullied all sorts of unpopular children, but mainly focused their torment on Miss Hebert. Since it was Miss Hebert against the three, it was a he said, she said problem, and the three always backed themselves up over-"

"Yes, I get it. Classical bullying of popular kids over unpopular ones. Why did she attack Hebert, specifically?" That's what she wanted to know. She didn't need to know the full goddamn history of the bullying.

Armsmaster sighed, looking at the folder on the desk, and said, "Near as we can tell?"

"Yes, tell me."

"For some reason Stalker got it in her head that Miss Hebert found out that she's a Parahuman, told the principal, and got her kicked off the track team."

"... What?" Emily couldn't even find it in her to be angry. She was just confused. "How did you find this out?"

"Shadow Stalker told us about it in the interrogation, we pieced it together from her angry ranting about other things. It was… disjointed."

The only thing stopping her from rubbing her face was her not wanting to ruin her makeup. Stalker wasn't worth ruining her makeup. She put effort into her makeup, so she didn't look near as sick as she actually was.

She allowed herself a sigh of frustration. She did not allow herself to ask if Stalker was stupid, since it was clear that she had to be in this, at least. "I see. I… see. I have a question."

"Yes, director?"

"Did Panacea say if Miss Hebert triggered?"

The resulting silence was deafening.

Chapter Text

Dennis first knew there was a problem when his evening patrol with Missy was canceled. His second clue was when Chris was remotely locked out of his lab and forced to wait with them while Dean and Carlos were summoned back from a PR meet and greet. But when Rory showed up in full costume to demand their immediate attendance in an unscheduled meeting, he was beginning to wonder if he should call Paulina for bail money. Or maybe the Dallon matriarch.

Still, the group made their way to the BIG conference room armed with domino masks and their wits. Entering to find Director Piggot herself, flanked by Armsmaster and Miss Militia, was an unwelcome surprise. Especially since she looked like she had been sucking sour candy to get rid of the taste of lemon slices. "Ah, the Wards. Thank you for your prompt attendance. Please sit down." The sheer exhaustion in her voice was so unlike the hardass they all knew and loathed, the red head was tempted to call for a Master Stranger Drill. He didn't, but only because he liked his teeth in his head.

Once they were settled around the table, their boss spoke at once. "So, just to start, I wanted you to hear this from me first. Shadow Stalker has been found in violation of her probationary agreement and has been removed from the Wards. If you have any method of contacting her or, more importantly, she has any method of contacting you, please let us know so that we can take security precautions." The idea that anyone would have been dumb enough to give Hess their real number was mind boggling, but both Rory and Carlos freely admitted to exchanging that information per contact protocols. Piggot just nodded and said she would make sure the devices were properly replaced immediately.

Dennis REALLY wanted to ask for more details, but could not quite manage it under the gaze of his three effective bosses. Missy was not so restrained. "Excuse me Ma'am, but are we cleared to know about what exactly she did to violate the agreement? Specifically?" Something told him that she wanted the whore comment to be the straw that broke the camel's back, but honestly there was so much to choose from he was kind of stumped.

"Less than twenty-four hours ago, Sophia Hess attacked a fellow student in her school for thinking that they knew she was a parahuman. She was incorrect in that."

"Why did she think that?" Chris asked before Dennis could, mainly since Dennis was dumbfounded. Since, honestly, what the actual fuck?

At that, Piggot looked Rory in the face, for a reason that soon became clear, "She assumed that the student reported her as a Parahuman to get her off the track team."

Rory shuddered and hunched in on himself, saying, "Is… is the student okay?"

"..." Piggot stared at Rory silently, lips pursed, then said, "After a much needed visit from Panacea, they survived. … Thankfully."

"Oh, thank fu- thank goodness."

"Yes. Thank goodness," Piggot said dryly. She cleared her throat, and looked back at the Wards. "But this did show that everyone was correct, and we should have listened to you sooner about her. For that we apologize. However, we also want to say that we were attempting to follow protocol."

"Then why were you rewarding her with ride alongs?" Dennis had to ask now, feeling angry.

"Those were not rewards, they were us assessing her ability to work on a team," Piggot informed them, sounding confused.

"But you only give those to us as a rare reward!" Carlos protested.

"They aren't rewards, they're just something we do sometimes if we have nothing else scheduled," Miss Militia said.

"Those are rewards," Missy insisted, sounding angry.

Chris nodded firmly, "Yeah! They are! It's like when I'm allowed more time with Armsmaster!"

The Director held her hand up, expression extremely complicated. "I see…Wards, it has become clear that there were issues with Sophia Hess from day one. However, it is ALSO clear from your reactions and previously filed complaints that there may be a deeper problem within the program itself. For now, I think it would be best if you went home for the day. I will be personally reviewing some of these complaints with your liaisons and discussing options going forward."

Dennis did not mean to.

Really.

But he could not ignore such a perfect setup as that!

"Liaisons? As in plural?"

Closing her eyes, Piggot looked absolutely defeated. "Everyone except for Triumph is dismissed. Get out of here. Now."

-----

Dennis sat down next to Amy and slid her the extra slice of pie he bought to bribe her into not biting his head off. She gave him a suspicious look, but didn't reject the plate of sugar. Taking a bite, she said, "You're lucky I like peaches, buster."

He grinned at her, "I know."

Dean, the absolute bastard, didn't need to bribe anyone to get at the table, just settling in next to Vicky no problem. Asshole. He ate his lunch with no interruptions at all, other than playfully stealing Vicky's fries and her stealing his in turn.

The entire table filled with Chris and Carlos next, Rory left to fend for himself. Not that it mattered, they would fill him in later. Chris and Carlos both gave Amy each a treat in tribute, different from each other and what Dennis had provided. Amy looked at her sweets and said, "Okay, what do you assholes want to know?"

"Who's the student Sophia Hess beat up?"

The healer scowled before stabbing at the pastry with a lot more energy. "First, you know that I'm not supposed to name names about that sort of shit. Forget security, I have my medical ethics to think about. Last thing I need is a lawsuit."

Dennis did not budge. "So noted. Anything else you need to quibble about? Because if that bitch beat up someone because of something stupid like a track team…!"

The return smile was even sharper. "The SECOND problem is that you need to be more specific. I lost track after victim number eight."

Huh!?

Vicky smacked her lips loudly after a particularly soggy fry. "What my lovely sister is trying to tell you without being brought up on charges, is that when said victim was bleeding on the floor, nearly a dozen bystanders came to the rescue before someone was actually murdered. They all were cataloged as part of the investigation in order to maximize the number of charges involved. As to the primary victim? Just leave it for now."

Carlos straightened his spine, face filled with frustration, "But…!"

Amy deliberately scraped her plate slowly. "Look, this…this whole cluster fuck? It wasn't a one time thing. I bet if you check up on the PHO boards or social media, that there will be a ton of testimonials about the whole backstory. Hess had a crew of bitches that all focused on this one person. Everyone who looked the other way? Well, I bet they're trying to speak up now before they end up sharing the charges. Plenty of evidence for you to look through."

Dean looked at his girlfriend in horror. "They…they've done stuff like this before?"

The blonde poked him on the nose. "Not this bad. But teenaged girls can get nasty and these psychos have been running wild for a long time. I think the Principal is going to be asked to retire before the end of it. A little discipline might have saved them all a lot of trouble."

Her sister scoffed. "Rich bitches are still bitches and sport stars are not worth class action lawsuits. Look, you guys will be able to find out more with some legwork than you're going to get from me. But I promise that, physically anyways, I left h…the victim fully recovered. No more and no less."

Frustrated, but unwilling to piss off the healer, Dennis hummed. "Fair enough. But if this is the same group, won't little miss daddy's girl raise a stink?"

The silent, evil grins he received in response sent a shiver down the Wards collective spines.

-----

Carol sometimes had regrets as a mother, regrets as a hero, and regrets as a human being. Brockton Bay was full of regrets and she was no different in that regard than any other resident. But professional regrets REALLY rankled, especially when she ran to work to avoid the other three kinds. So the last thing she needed was to try to lose someone's number when they had started pacing in her office. Unfortunately, despite being a talented lawyer, Alan was not the most subtle of souls.

Turning an alarming shade of burgundy, he reframed his argument for the fifth time in an hour. "It's ridiculous, Carol! Suspended due to inappropriate actions in my professional and private life? What utter nonsense!" With a twist, he was suddenly looking over her desk like a slab of middle class meat. "And you didn't say a word! Why the hell did you leave me to dry?! After how long we've known each other?!"

She did know Alan Barnes. Even thought of him as a reasonable enough work colleague. That did not make her blind to his faults. "Alan, you independently represented a teenaged Parahuman without even consulting the partners. Without consulting ME as the Parahuman law specialist. Did you really think there wouldn't be consequences for not asking mother may I when she proceeded to assault multiple members of her student body?"

Frankly, she didn't even want to argue with him, she just wanted him gone. She'd rather have him out of her office, but he wouldn't go.

Alan almost pouted, "I knew what I was doing, Carol."

"You clearly didn't," she said flatly. "Alan, would you please leave? It is almost time to go home, and I want to clean up my office, and head there."

"Oh, don't give me that, Carol, you regularly stay well past time working. Don't be-"

"Alan," she interrupted. "Please get out of my office."

She really just… didn't want him here. He had been here for an hour wasting her time. She'd already offered the Heberts her services as a lawyer, pro bono, and didn't want Alan to know since the man was unstable enough to do something stupid. If he figured that out, Carol wouldn't be surprised if he would attack her. Since he outweighed her by a fair amount, she would either need to go into her breaker state - which she hated - or attack with her powers. If she attacked, she could be called for assault with parahuman powers.

As such, she did not want Alan to know she was helping out the Heberts with their case against Sophia Hess.

"I'm not leaving, Carol, you need to understand! You should have backed me up, and it isn't right that you didn't."

"Alan, you've been repeating this same complaint for the last hour, just with different wording. I'm not changing my stance. Go try to convince Williams of your-"

"Williams won't listen!"

"Well, I'm not, either! Get out!"

"I'm going to stay here until you call up Chambers and tell him that you changed your mind."

She stared at him, "You want me to call Chambers?" A thought brewed in her mind, a cruel thought, but one that wasn't undeserved.

"Yes! And you tell him that you changed your mind."

"I see." With that, she picked up her phone, and called the top Partner of the Firm, Drew Chambers, waiting patiently for the man to pick up. "Hello? Mr. Chambers?"

"Dallon?" he sounded confused, but not angry, thankfully.

"Yes, sir. I wanted to tell you something. It's about Alan Barnes." She watched as Alan looked smugly at her from across her desk.

"Well, what is it?"

"He's been ranting and raving at me for the last hour about how I should have backed him up instead of staying silent when you and Green were dressing him down for his mistake. I do not think this is professional behavior and-" Alan's face went white, and he ran from her office. "Ah, he took off from my office, sir."

"I'll contact security. I agree that this isn't professional behavior, and I won't have it. Thank you for informing me, Dallon."

"You're welcome, sir."

Chapter Text

Watching the professional looking blonde pack the last piece of paper, Taylor was filled with a swell of emotion. She was not sure if it was happiness or sorrow or frustration or just…just SOMETHING…but it filled her heart and mind with fuzz. Maybe later it would feel real. Maybe later she would feel like she had won. But for now, all she could feel was something beyond her experience.

Ignorant of her emotional turmoil, her father shook the woman's hand with fervor. "Thank you, Mrs. Dallon. Thank you SO much. When I found out about how…how Alan and Emma did all those things, I just didn't know what to do next. But thanks to you and your family, my little girl is safe and sound and will soon be out of that pit!"

The Attorney, also known as the hero Brandish, nodded her acknowledgement. "Indeed. When I heard about what had happened, I knew I had to step in. What the Barnes family did or allowed to happen…well I believe in accountability, no matter what my personal feelings may be." The amount of emotion behind the words was light, but she welcomed them just as much as her dad. Brandish had really pulled out all the stops.

However, once the thank you ended, she immediately retook her seat. "That being said, Mister Hebert, I was hoping to speak to you and your daughter about another matter. Unofficially. That is, if you don't mind?" The knowing look in her eyes made the teen nervous, but she refused to back down. Not again.

"What is that?" her dad asked.

Knowing what it was, but refusing to speak it aloud, Taylor let Mrs. Dallon be the one to go first. The older woman nodded, looking them both in the eyes, and said, "It has to do with your powers, Miss Hebert."

"What about them?" she asked, knowing she didn't really want to talk about them, but hating how she had to.

"What are your plans now that you have a better grasp on what you can do?"

She sighed, looking at Brandish, still hating all of this, but unable to dismiss the woman's concerns. After doing some experimenting, Taylor realized she could now just… know where people were. All people. Everywhere within about a three block radius.

It honestly kind of sucked. She knew when they paid attention to her, and just how much attention they were paying attention to her, too. The more attention they paid, the stronger she got.

And she knew when someone was a Parahuman, too. They shined brightly in her senses, and if a Parahuman gave her attention? Well, the strength she received left the normals in the dust. She knew that just from the focused discussion with Brandish right now. She'd been testing it while in the various meetings they had been slogging through since the hospital.

She also got a small amount of regeneration, near as she could tell, and from what she'd been told by Panacea. That was proven by giving herself a papercut before coming in and having it fully healed by the time they left the previous meeting. A single paper cut from hours of exposure to another Cape. So honestly, Taylor knew that she couldn't go out and go fight on her own safely.

She'd die.

Taylor needed a group to join that had lots of Parahumans on it that wouldn't be a danger to her, and would do their best to keep her and her family safe.

The problem was…she did not have a ton of options. "I…I want to be a hero. But I can't go solo. So I need a team to help support me and keep dad safe. But…"

But the only two options for that in Brockton Bay were New Wave and the Protectorate Wards. The first would make her go public, leaving her father and her exposed to untold retaliation. The others…well…they had accepted Sophia Hess.

Then Danny Hebert was at her side, drawing her into a hug. "We'll figure this out, Little Owl. I won't let you face this alone. NEVER again." Feeling the strength of his words, she let the tears come. She was not alone anymore. In some ways, she was never going to be alone ever again.

Leaning forward, Carol Dallon smiled like a shark. "While I can understand why you might not be a good fit for New Wave, all things considered, I do think that you might want to know something. My daughters regularly talk with the Wards, socially I mean. And they tried to get rid of Hess as quickly as they could after enduring just a week of her behavior. Only, they didn't have an idiot like Blackwell in the way. So, if you want any help squeezing them for concessions, I would be more than willing to offer my help there as well."

Her dad's answer was laced with dark promise. "If you make that choice, WE would take the bastards to the cleaners. With bells on."

The image of the two facing down the Protectorate with a fountain pen filled Taylor's head and she laughed, and laughed, and laughed!

-----

Sometimes Colin wondered if leading the Protectorate was worth the hassle. Valuable time spent in meetings could be better utilized in his Lab or on the streets. Or possibly working with Kid Win so he could better develop his tech tree and stop jotting down binary explosive chemical formulas in his homework. Although one had allowed for the retroactive engineering of a new polymer base for his equipment shielding, so it was not a total loss.

But discussing the newest Ward recruit convinced him that he HAD to keep his head in the game. If only to ensure Director Piggot's heavy handedness and pragmatism did not result in another personnel disaster. "Demanding a dedicated personal trainer, complete with workout plan and regular evaluations is completely reasonable. Especially if Miss Hebert's Brute based abilities really do scale up based upon existing strength versus some other personal metric. Given her potential exposure as a Ward, it's mostly a safety concern anyways which is covered by the standard contract."

The local leader of the PRT glowered before giving in. "You would not be so quick to agree to their demands if your department was getting hit with the settlement payouts. But I suppose it is better that she doesn't hurt anyone by accident. What's next?" He tried not to think about the number of implied zeroes involved. He could already hear his coffee budget going up in smoke.

He glanced at his helmet's visor for what was next on the agenda, "The transfer of Dauntless."

The director visibly perked up at that, "Ah, yes! With the transfer of our 'hometown hero,' we now have three whole new capes coming into the local Protectorate team to help with straightening things out around here."

"Three?" he asked, unable to mask his shock and delight. "I thought we were getting two! How did you manage to swing that?"

"You know how you kept getting your budget denied?"

He only kept from growling through long practice, "Yes."

"Well, it turns out that they kept assuming that the Wards had two people on it, not the actual number because we kept recruiting," Piggot said flatly, unimpressed. "It didn't help that the first one we had was Vista, a level nine Shaker, while we have Gallant, a fake Tinker that's actually a Master. After that, they assumed we were fine, and had filled our Wards up."

"We what."

Piggot stared at him silently for a long moment, "That was my thought, as well. I reamed them out for it. Congratulations on your budget increase for the Wards and back pay for said Wards. Fix up those complaints, get in the therapists, and bring in individual liaisons."

"... Will do, Director."

Armsmaster made a note to properly research the new transfers once they had been finalized. Integrating new teammates was a balancing act of egos and abilities, but the resulting synergy could work wonders…

Speaking of…

He emailed Miss Militia to join him for a Protectorate leadership meeting. At least fifteen percent of the complaints he was charged with resolving involved a lack of interaction between the Protectorate and the Wards. With two extra bodies on top of the transfer, maybe they could increase their involvement across the board?

After all, collaboration and shared experiences could result in its own form of synergy.

----

When the Mask Alarm sounded, Dennis was busy with his math homework. Between meetings with the PRT paper pushers and parental threats about possible lawsuits, he had been a little distracted when study groups were formed last week. Who knew that some idiot in New York managed to screw up their Wards budget because they lost count of his teammates? And HE was supposed to be the joke.

Replacing his domino mask he looked up to see the new transfer, Ursa Aurora leading in a skinny girl with great hair. He had an idea about what was going to happen next. After all, Amy had been right. Winslow op sec SUCKED. "Wards, we have a new member today. While their final name is still in development, you can call her Beacon for now." Turning to the girl in question, the hero softened her voice. "Would you like me to stay?"

She flinched before shaking her head. "I'll be okay," her voice was surprisingly strong, for all that she seemed uncomfortable with being there.

"Okay, just know that we're a phone call away."

That got a small smile, and a nod of the head. "I know."

"Take care, Beacon."

"You, too, Ursa." With that, the Protectorate hero left the room, leaving the newbie alone in front of the door. Beacon stared at them for a moment, then straightened her back. "Hello."

"Yo," Dennis said, his voice in the group of greetings with the other Wards in the room. When the silence clearly wasn't going to get any better after about thirty seconds, Dennis said, "Beacon, it's nice to meet you. I'm Clockblocker."

Beacon relaxed, smiling a little nervously, "It's nice to meet you, too." She reached up to her face, touching her mask, only to drop her hand. A nervous gesture, possibly for glasses? She walked over cautiously, "What are you working on?"

"Homework."

"Oh… what class?" she perked up, clearly hoping to help him.

"Math."

She visibly deflated, "Oh."

"Not very good at math?"

"No, I'm better at English. My mother was an English professor."

"Ah, well, I could switch over and work on that. I wouldn't say no to some help," he offered diplomatically. Honestly, he didn't care what he worked on for homework right then, as long as it all eventually got done.

Beacon's smile was bright, and they settled in to work. Surprisingly enough, she actually DID help him out, despite not being properly enrolled at Arcadia yet. It was pretty darn impressive.

Yeah, he could already tell that Beacon was a team player. Better than Sophia by a million miles.

Hopefully, things would just get better from now on.

Well… he could dream.