Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Fine,” said Dad. “ Just be careful, it’s late and there are some real creeps out there, alright kiddo?”

“I will,” I said, walking out the door, ready for a stroll.

It was a good thing, really, that Sophia had thrown my journal into the toilet. Sure it had been devastating, I’d put a lot of hope into that journal, and I’d thought it might give me an edge. I wanted my cape life to be different from the rest of my pathetic life. After I’d realized I had powers I’d spent a month practicing and experimenting with it. I wouldn’t let myself become a punchline, not again. I’d research, plan, take down a few minor villains, learn how to be a cape, and then once I had a better handle on things I could maybe join the wards. The journal had taken me months to make. Watching the news, cataloging every cape’s powers, strengths, weaknesses, patterns based on prior behavior, as well as more practical information which had required field research, like the location of Lung’s headquarters. I’d used my powers to track him down.

I’d been given a C-list power in order to help save Brockton Bay from bullies. I could create a pair of invisible stamps, apply them to solid surfaces by touch, and teleport small things between them. About thrice my weight was the limit, and I had to be near a stamp to use it. The heavier the object, the closer they had to be to one of the stamps. I could teleport myself anywhere within ten feet of a stamp, but I could teleport a tennis ball up to a hundred feet from a stamp. I couldn’t teleport into solid objects or living things for some reason, but perhaps due to this, my power had the secondary effect of allowing me to sense things like walls and people which were near a stamp. I’d used this secondary effect to um… case, was that the word right? I’d used my stamps to case the ABB. The initial idea had been to slap a gangbanger’s coat with a stamp, and use it to teleport to their headquarters. Problem was, as the biggest loser at Winslow, I wasn’t exactly in the know about what my classmates did after school, much less which were actual gangbangers. I’d settled for slapping a teleportation stamp onto the sweaters of Asians wearing red and green in the cafeteria.To my pleasant surprise, most of the kids I’d thought were in gangs were just posers trying to fit in. It had taken me seven tries before I’d finally gotten a hit. I’d teleported in on a scene of Lung testing an invention of a blue-eyed new cape on one of his henchmen… I’d put my life at risk for that information, to fill out the journal. And Sophia had thrown it in the toilet. It had been enough to convince me to try to go to a teacher. One last time. I’d gone to Mrs. Knott, she’d always been one of my better teachers at Winslow. She’d tried to give me the run around, given me all kinds of excuses for why she couldn’t act: it would be my word against theirs, she didn’t want to cause any trouble, if the Trio retaliated she couldn’t do anything to stop them, that it was best if I learn how to deal with bullies when I was young, that it might ruin Sophia’s life if she was suspended, all the typical Winslow bullshit. I don’t know why I thought she was better than Mr Gladly. He pretended to care, she didn’t bother, neither would ever lift a finger to help me. But she’d slipped up at the end. Her last reason, dragged barely audible from her mouth, was that ‘Her dad’s a lawyer.’ Not Sophia’s, not the girl I’d brought up in my complaint, Emma’s.

So thanks to Sophia’s little prank, I’d realized that my life hadn’t been ruined because of some oversight. They’d known all along. They’d maybe felt guilty. They’d done nothing, because just like the students, they were scared. I should’ve known. Half the school had heard me screaming after the Trio had stuffed me in a locker full of used tampons, they’d heard me break my fingers trying to break free. Nobody had saved me then. Nobody would save me now. My miserable school life was never going to get better.

I had to become a cape. I couldn’t wait any longer. I was going to the ABB headquarters to take out Lung. And don’t think I was committing suicide-by-cape either. I’d come up with a plan that would allow me to beat Lung. I was confident in my plan. Of course, Lung was the most decorated cape in Brockton Bay, and I’d only had my powers for a couple of months, but… My plan would work. Probably. I thought so at least.

So yeah, Lung was screwed. He may have faced down an Endbringer, but he’d never had to fight me before and I’d once almost managed to scratch Sophia, so… um…

Hmm… Thinking about my chances really wasn’t helping.

New subject, Tay, new subject.

There really were a lot of Asians in the Docks. Made sense. Kyushu had been attacked by Leviathan, and nine and a half million had died before the Endbringer retreated. Tens of millions of refugees, and almost a hundred thousand had fled to Brockton Bay. It had been a good day, relatively speaking. Most Endbringer attacks ended in total annihilation, and nine and a half million dead was a hell of a lot better than a hundred million, which was what people had expected at the time. Compared to much of the world, even much of the United States, Brockton Bay was thriving. The Docks weren’t a pretty place. The last three buildings I’d passed had been abandoned, men loitered in packs of red and green, and women didn’t wear quite enough clothing to be considered anything other than sexual objects. It had been different when I was a child, better. But for all the refugees were poor, for all crime in the streets, they could at least take solace that they were in one of the better cities. The Bay had been unimportant enough to avoid getting nuked after the Simurgh had announced her presence by taking control of the launch codes. Two billion dead, major tech cities destroyed, Boston and Washington devastated. It had taken just a few days for the various militaries around the world to denuclearize, but the damage had already been done. It had been a blow in other ways as well. We’d never be able to build conventional weaponry against the Endbringers, our only hope was to rely on the capes. But even Eidolin was no match for an Endbringer. It was a grim reality of earth bet. We were being exterminated slowly, with no solution in sight.

There was a famous earth aleph comic about an Alexandria cape named Superman. He was an alien who could fly, was invincible, and could shoot lasers. He dedicated his life to saving humanity. Little things, like flying around saving cats from trees, to big things, like fighting monsters on par with Behemoth. A nice fantasy, I could see why it had grown so popular. Nobody like that existed here. Made people desperate. It was sad. Some people even idolized a murderous psychopath like Lung. Not me.

The tennis ball in my pocket held one of my teleportation stamps, the other was connected to a rock in the middle of the Atlantic. It had been a hassle getting a stamp down there.  I’d sent a fan letter to the London Protectorate, complete with a teleportation stamp attached to it, teleported to the airport using that stamp, reapplied the stamp to the back of the cargo airplane, and teleported back to my bedroom. From there, I’d waited for a few hours, gotten a rock, and teleported back to the airplane halfway through its flight to London. I’d almost been knocked out by the 300 mile per hour winds, but I’d managed to move the teleportation stamp to the rock, and teleported comfortably back to the bedroom. I hadn’t even crashed against my bed as I’d been afraid of, as my speed seemed to carry over relative to my teleportation stamp. Since I’d been falling with the rock, my speed relative to my teleportation stamp had been zero, which was apparently what mattered when teleporting.

I’d had to replace the stamp I’d been using to track the ABB with the one on the rock on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. It’d have been nice to be able to track their movements, but I couldn’t beat Lung without the Atlantic stamp. Now the only difficulty would be getting a stamp close enough to Lung to teleport him. He’d have to be within ten feet of the ball, and I’d have to be within two hundred. I had to be within two hundred feet of the stamp to activate it, even if I wasn’t a part of the teleportation myself. Oh yeah, and I could only teleport from one stamp to the other, I couldn’t use one stamp to teleport to somewhere else close to the same stamp, I had to go to the other stamp. Because I didn’t exactly want to teleport to the bottom of the Atlantic, I couldn’t teleport myself until I’d taken care of Lung and could afford to replace the stamp in the Atlantic. So that was basically the game. If I got within two hundred feet of him without him noticing, I won. If he noticed me, he’d win. Luckily, I knew their headquarters.

I’d place a seal by the door, hide behind the nearest corner of the building, and teleport him away as soon as he left the building. With any luck, I’d also be able to get Oni Lee, and whoever the third cape was as well. If not, that was what the tennis ball was for. I’d replace the seal in the Atlantic, place it on the ball, throw that fucker for all I was worth, and teleport to its location, reapply stamps wherever, and repeat. Plan B was to turn and run with my tail between my legs. I was a teleporter though, with limited extrasensory abilities of almost a block, so it wasn’t a bad plan.

Alright, I was only about a few blocks from their headquarters. I squeezed my tennis ball. I could do this. I could do this. Go time.

The street was unlit, so I noticed all my careful plans coming apart through my stamp sense rather than my eyes. Lung was on the move, walking parallel to me two streets over, and he had about thirty mooks with him. I sensed that the gangbangers were holding things in their hands. Guns.

I squashed the impulse to teleport them away. Guns were light, and they were already within my range. Lung wasn’t, and he was a lot more dangerous than the guns. He’d notice if I disarmed all his grunts, and then I’d lose the element of surprise.

Do the smart thing Taylor.

Unexpected things happened. Lung was near me, yes, but he wasn’t going to cross my path unless I let him. Walk away Tay. Try again tomorrow. Get the ambush ready, execute Plan A on a day where they started in their evil lair like I'd expected.

They’d stopped.

It would be very wise, I was sure, to take this opportunity to escape. But how could I, when I noticed that the building separating me from them had a perfectly good fire escape? Like an automaton powered by sheer stupidity, I was on the roof looking down at them, cursing my idiocy and lack of discipline.

Follow the damn plan you idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?

I crawled closer, so I could hear what they were saying.

Lung snarled, “...the children, just shoot.  Doesn’t matter your aim, just shoot.  You see one lying on the ground?  Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure.  We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?”

Well fuck.

I’d like to say that I said “YOLO!” and tossed the ball down at Lung, killed the bad guy, and saved the day. Actually no, that would’ve been dumb as hell. At least it’d have been ballsy though, and somehow still not half as dumb as what I actually did.

ooOoo

“Fuck,” said Lisa, slamming down the landline in her team’s hidden lair. She slammed it a few more times for good measure. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Eloquent,” said Regent. “While your diatribe gives the emotions of our mysterious leader’s call, but perhaps you might elucidate a somewhat clearer message.”

Feigning sarcasm. Concern actually genuine. Concerned about who? He ran away from someone. Worried they’re coming to ge-

Grue and Bitch had wandered over as well. Great, looked like they’d be having an impromptu team meeting. Her outburst had been a mistake. She couldn’t lie about what was happening, that would just get them all killed, but she couldn’t exactly be blunt either. She had to spin it. They had a freedom she lacked. They were relatively unimportant, they could leave and Coil wouldn’t pursue. And if they left, well, she’d either be stuck in some room, forced into dependency on hard drugs, or she’d just be dead. Not quite sure which Coil would choose, not quite sure which she’d prefer.

Lisa summoned up a smile. “He told me Lung and Oni Lee were going to try to kill us tonight.”

Grue and Regent shared a look.

“Well it’s been a pleasure,” said Regent. “But it appears our time together is at an end. Brian, you want in on a pair of train tickets to Philly?”

Grue hesitated.

“You can’t seriously be considering staying,” said Regent. “Sure we’ve had a few scrapes with Lung, but we’ve never had him pissed off enough to come after us in our lair. If he wants us dead, we’ll have to fight him eventually. It’s not a battle we can win. So we do what we always do. Bail. This time it just means moving on to another city.”

“Right,” said Grue. “You’re right. I know you’re right. We’re small time and we do small time jobs. We’re below the concern of anyone really dangerous, that’s how we survive. That was always the plan. Nothing lasts forever.”

Also concerned about Lung. Knows that surviving a conflict with the ABB is untenable, but hesitant to leave. Has roots in Brockton Bay. Can’t leave easily. Can’t leave someone. Sister. Can’t leave sister. Parents irresponsible. Tough father. Mother is problem. Drug addict.

“It’s a test, Brian,” said Lisa. In a certain manner of speaking, it was the truth. Mostly for her of course, not so much for them. If she couldn’t prove she was more useful to Coil out here then… Well… Fuck! Fuck him! He’d fucking done this by design. Screwed her over. Making them infringe on fucking Lung’s territory, she’d known for months this was going to happen. Powerless to stop it of course, but she’d been trying to build chemistry so her team wouldn’t just do what she’d do in their position, and cut and run. “He wants to see if we can survive this. Just tonight. Then he’ll send help. You know how good a planner he is, all our jobs from him have been successful. If we can just survive tonight, he’ll give us bigger and better jobs. More money.”

That was for Bitch.

“I do love money,” said Regent. “But I love living more.”

“Perfectly reasonable,” said Lisa. “But I think bossman is a precog. He wouldn’t give us this mission if he knew we were going to die. I think he knows he’s fucked us over with all the missions in ABB territory. As long as we stay on board, he’ll owe us a favor.”

That was for Grue. So much easier to lead the group through him than outright. Although Lisa, even without her powers, would have seen through it. To be fair to her minions, Lisa had always been smart. Besides, she normally acted in their best interests, today was an exception.

Grue let out a breath, and shook his head. “Okay. I can’t believe I’m considering this, but how exactly are we going to survive a night with the entire ABB gunning for our heads?”

Lisa smiled. “We take initiative! Bring the fight to them! Lung is strong, but he’s not exactly mobile. If we can take out Oni Lee, they can’t do shit to us. We’re gonna be fine, ya hear.”

What? It was a good plan, relatively speaking. It could work. In theory. Maybe. Lots of things were possible. Maybe Lung would stub his toe and die, and everything would work out perfectly. Clearly, Coil wanted her dead. Not so much as to do it himself, and possibly risk alienating her teammates, but if Lung were to do the work for him he wasn’t going to stop it. Where had she gone wrong? Had she talked too much to his mercenaries, mouthed off one too many times? Or had her freedom always been a farce? Did he expect her to run to him begging for protection, eager to become some controllable junkie?

Lisa smirked.

Who wanted to live forever anyways?

ooOoo

I lobbed the ball underhanded, while I quivered near the edge of the building and hoped that Lung and his goons didn’t notice me. If I’d have played softball, or maybe just been a more sportsy girl in general, the tennis ball might’ve hit Lung. Or at least gotten within ten feet of him. Instead, I missed wide right by at least the length of a couple city roads. The athletes on television really underselled how damn hard it was to throw a ball accurately. Or maybe I should’ve known that everything would go wrong. It always did.

Like Emma whispering into my ear, a thought inexorably floated to the surface. I’d known this would happen. I’d made plans, but I’d known they wouldn’t work, not against Lung. I’d been dressing up what I’d actually been trying to do, because I hadn’t wanted to admit what I was doing. Why I’d gone to Lung, instead of taking a few handfuls of aspirin.

I’d just been too scared to do it myself.

No!

That wasn’t true! I really did want to kill Lung, I really had thought it was possible!

My stealth had been good at least. They didn’t notice the ball until it hit the ground. A few of Lung’s goons shot at it, until Lung slammed one of his trigger-happy henchmen into the pavement.

“Fool,” Lung whispered. “A harmless ball. The blonde bitch is trying to distract us. Wait. Listen. Hear her skittering.”

Well, the ball wasn’t close enough to teleport him to the bottom of the Atlantic, so there went that plan. It had also stopped rolling, so I couldn’t exactly use it to run away. Plan A and Plan B had both failed, so yeah, I guess it was time to improvise.

“You say I skitter,” I bellowed idiotically. “I’ll show you skitter, you um… Fuck you!”

With that I flipped him off and put a teleportation stamp on the roof.

Nice one Taylor. Many have compared my improvisational skills to a pile of shit. Not quite fair to the pile of shit. Afterall, a pile of shit didn’t get you killed.

“I don’t have time for this fool.” Lung sighed. “Shoot her.”

Lung… Not an idiot. Probably should’ve realized that from his decade of combat experience. Would’ve been nice if he’d tried to engage me in close combat so I could kill him though.

I was tempted to teleport their guns away. But no… Guns were more liable to miss than in the movies, and they could barely see me. Lung was still the bigger threat.

I fled to the center of the roof, away from their gunfire.

“You scared, pussy,” I taunted again, trying to fight off panic. “That why you won’t come up and fight me like a man? You scared of a little girl?”

“A little blonde girl in this city is known for maiming petty thieves,” said Lung mildly. “Size, sex, misleading in my experience. Afraid? No. Cautious? Yes.”

I really should’ve played more softball growing up. I had a sinking feeling that my only opportunity to win this battle had been a more accurate throw at the beginning.

Or better yet, a plan that didn’t require me to magically develop an aim in a life-or-death situation.

“Men,” Lung commanded, his gravelly voice assured. “Surround the building. If she gets near the edge, shoot her. If she tries to escape through an entrance, shoot her. If she jumps, wait for her to hit the ground, then shoot her.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! If only my power weren’t so fucking lame. If I could teleport within the location of one stamp, rather than having to jump from one to the other, I might be able to make a fight of it.

Armsmaster? Miss Militia? Nobody was going to save me. I was going to die.

Goddam him and his nefarious lack of idiocy. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stop trembling Taylor, and think! I was going to die! About something productive! Well on the bright side of certain death, it turned out that I wasn’t actually suicidal, I was absolutely sure that I didn’t want to be murdered tonight. I’d do basically anything to avoid it. And to do that I had to…

Get a stamp within ten feet of Lung. Whatever it took. And don’t rely on aim. Can’t. Mitigate your weakness then. Alright, I had Plan D, but it really sucked, so let’s move onto Pl-

Lung languidly lit the building on fire. Okay, keep track of him Taylor, you’re probably going to only have one shot at him, and ten feet isn’t as wide a margin as you think.

Okay… Okay. No more thinking. Action. Plan D. I put my stamp on a rock, and threw it in the direction of Lung. It didn’t get close enough to hit him, but that wasn’t the point.

“The fuck!” Said a goon.

I’d teleported their guns away, safely to the bottom of the Atlantic.

Okay, now phase two. I reapplied the stamp to another rock, held it in my hand, and launched myself off the roof. Not my best plan, but now that I’d shown my hand, I really had to hit Lung before he realized what my powers were. Unfortunately, my suicide jump didn’t land me anywhere near him, and I slammed into the pavement ineffectually.

Lung still seemed bewildered by my impersonation of a fly splatting on a windshield. I threw my rock at him. He blasted it with fire, which didn’t much affect the stamp at all, but unfortunately blew the rock back in my face.

I flung myself out of the way of the fireball. Naturally, I took off a shoe, and heaved it at him.

He blasted it away, but the shoe had just been a feint, the real stamp was on my mask, which I’d chucked well above him. Out of his sightline. People were bad at looking up.

And just for a moment, he was in range. I teleported him to the other stamp. A rock that had settled in the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. A pit of dread welled in my stomach.

Lung was a regenerator, almost impossible to kill, so I’d pulled out all the stops even if I somehow knew it’d be futile. A person like me just didn’t beat a person like Lung. Still though, I thought my power was more dangerous than it first appeared. The stamp was under about 9000 feet of water. About 1000 miles from any land. If he somehow survived the pressure, he’d suffocate, if he didn’t drown, the expanding nitrogen in his blood would kill him, and if he survived that, he’d still be liable to dehydration and exhaustion. But somehow, I knew he’d make it out, I’d only have made him angrier, and everyth-

Huh?

He was dead? The pressure had killed him, I sensed it through the stamp. I’d killed Lung.

Huh.

Well… Maybe I’d feel something after I’d dealt with all of his henchmen, trying to kill me. Although they’d probably not, I’d probably just be dead.

Funny thing. My teleportation stamps could move things between them in two different ways. One way was how I’d been using them for most of this fight, direct teleportation. The other way was as a portal. Rather than teleporting objects between locations I could simply connect the two locations together, in small circular portals. The portals had the same range as my teleportation, they needed to be no more than about 100 feet from a stamp, but had the additional limitation of needing to be on the same surface as the stamp. When I used the portal technique underwater, I was essentially creating a faucet. The portals were limited to inorganic solid surfaces.

I’d looked up in an encyclopedia the pressure at the bottom of the Atlantic. Near as I could tell, it was about 10,000 psi. For reference, a water jet cutter has a psi of… 90,000 psi. So yeah, I wasn’t going to be able to cut through steel anytime soon, but some soft-ass flesh shouldn't be a problem. I’d tested it on one of my rats I’d captured when I’d first started experimenting with my stamps, and had been quite satisfied with the results.

I placed my hand on the ground, reapplied the teleportation stamp from the mask to the concrete, and opened up a pin-sized portal in the pavement underneath the nearest goon's left foot. A geyser of seawater ripped right through it. One down. I repeated the process a dozen times, incapacitating the men nearest me before they could so much as let out a cry about their fallen leader.

The henchmen continued to swarm me, they must’ve seen me jump from the building, and I dispatched them easily, teleporting their guns away, and opening portals beneath their feet. Soon I had thirty moaning men beneath me, and a fucking burning building next to me. Umm…

Now what was I going to do?

I cannot emphasize enough how little I’d considered the absurd possibility that I might actually win. I mean, I wasn’t an idiot. I’d been fighting motherfucking Lung for christ’s sake, he’d fought a damn Endbringer and lived to tell the tale, only a fool of the highest caliber would think that some newbie cape with a pidly ass teleportation power could beat him.

So what the hell?

Even if I’d defeated Lung, surely one of his henchmen should’ve taken me out. I mean, I’d been bullied for years, and nothing I’d done had worked then. It would’ve been the height of foolishness to think that I’d somehow be good at caping of all things.

Well… Well?

Still not dead. I’d still um… Won?

Um…

Okay then. Lung down… 

Next up was… Kaiser, I guess?

Um sure… Sure?

Okay really now, how the fuck had trying to solo half the fucking ABB actually worked?

Um, but what to do about the dying henchmen? Call the PRT? Yeah right, good one Tay. I’d killed Lung, and he didn’t have a kill order. I might actually be birdcaged for that. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, I’d killed somebody. Yeah he was a monster, and no I didn’t really feel guilty about it, but I really really didn’t want to go to jail. I mean, I had like, years of life in front of me apparently, because my plans for the future had all been mucked up on account of them actually working.

Could I claim self-defense?

No, no, once the PRT knew how my powers worked, they’d know it was premeditated. But it really wasn’t fair. Yes, I’d meant to kill Lung, yes I’d meticulously planned out how to do it, but, your Honor, I really hadn’t thought it would work. I’d expected… Well I’d expected that something would go wrong, like everything else in my life did. I mean, I was puny Taylor Hebert, the biggest loser at Winslow High, ask anyone and they’d tell you: she really shouldn’t have been that competent your Honor.

Somehow, I doubted that my brilliant defense would stand up in court.

Ahh fuck it. I’d never really trusted the PRT anyways. They were better than the villains, but they were the ones who’d let Brockton Bay become such a shithole in the first place. And they really had let it, hadn’t they? I’d been the one to stop Lung. Me. Not them. I was under no illusions. I wasn’t the Michael Jordan of capery. Armsmaster, Assault, Velocity, Miss Militia, Aegis, Clockblocker, and Vista all had better powers than me. They’d failed because they’d tried to do things legally, take him alive, give him a trial. I hadn’t bothered. I’d gone for the kill. The PRT would’ve never approved of my methods, the general public wouldn’t have either, even Mom and Dad would have hated my methods.

All that moralizing, all that hand-wringing, and what was there to show for doing things the right way? A decade of gang rule. Girls sold into sexual slavery, teenagers sold hard drugs, decline of legitimate business, increase in armed robbery, rape, and hate crimes. I knew I was supposed to feel guilty about killing Lung. I just didn’t. I didn’t feel proud either. It felt more like I’d completed the first paragraph of a five-page essay.

The PRT didn’t want me? Fine. I could do a lot more good on my own.

So um… Time for Plan E?

I located my mask, and put it on. I placed a hand on each and every henchmen. Near the middle, I placed my Atlantic teleportation stamp onto the pavement. I walked to the side of one of the abandoned buildings that wasn’t actively on fire, and applied my other teleportation stamp to it, pretending to lean against it to catch my breath. I’d effectively defanged myself, but they didn’t know that. Soon I was facing the ABB forces I’d decimated.

“Lung is dead,” I said flatly. “I’m a teleporter. A strong one. Anyone I mark, I can teleport anywhere, and sense whatever they’re doing. It took me a while to mark Lung, but once I did, he was dead. You’ll never find the body. You might think I’m restricted by line of sight, or weight or something else like most other teleporters are.”

Without warning, I teleported one of the goons behind me fifteen feet above the building, and let him crash down. I repeated the process a few more times to make sure I got my message across.

“I’ve marked each and every one of you, just as I did Lung. I could kill all of you,” I said softly. “But I’m new to this. A soft Arcadian suburban girl. You might’ve thought I was some wannabe cape from my fight with Lung. My childish taunts. He was right, I was trying to trick him. Didn’t work. But this is the real me. I’m Everywhere.”

I laughed quietly. “So it didn’t matter. He’s dead. It wasn’t all a mask. I am a soft Arcadian girl. Somewhat. I’m what you might call an idealist. I believe in redemption.” I couldn’t help but laugh at my lies. “For some. He was Lung. A parahuman. A cape. You’re not. You don’t have superpowers. Lung is scary. Excuse me. Lung was scary. So what choice did you really have? Fear. Such a powerful influence. I’ve learned that much. You will find your family. You will leave this city. You will tell no one of my abilities. In return, I will give you this second chance. I will allow you to live. Violate my terms, and well… Lung would love some company, I’m sure.”

“Am I understood?” I whispered.

The men, each and every one of them, nodded. I saw terror in their eyes. Of me?

Really?

They were scared of poor, weak, pathetic Taylor Hebert? The powerless girl who’d not been able to escape the abuse of three stupid bullies, no matter how hard she’d tried? The girl so ineffectual, so stupid, that she was failing out of fucking Winslow? I’d fucking gotten my own mom killed, she’d been rushing to pick me up from school, distracted, that’s why she hadn’t noticed the truck that’d t-boned her through the window. Ahahaha. The girl who’d finally given up, finally summoned the courage to end it all, and had instead somehow toppled the most decorated cape in Brockton Bay?

I couldn’t help but chuckle, laugh, cackle hysterically at the absurdity of all. Although admittedly my laughter was drowned out by the roaring fire beside me. It billowed a dark smoke you didn’t normally see in a camp fire, from burnt plastic and electrical wiring probably. A rare sight, which I’d caused. Was it good? Bad? My near flawless victory was probably a sign of the apocalypse.

“Good,” I murmured, and started to limp back home. “But remember…”

With my back to them, without breaking stride, I dropped one last henchmen from the building. He landed with a wet thud, a wail of pain ripped from his throat.

“I’m always watching.”

Chapter Text

Boom, that’s how you fucking do it baby! Another victory for Tattletale! 

“Told ya we could take him,” Tats gloated, whooping for a third time. Her plan had been a rousing success. Well, successful enough. They still weren’t dead, at least not yet, so that had to count for something. “Oni Leeqa Madiq can suck a damn lemon. We whupped his ass!”

“If by whupped his ass,” said Grue roughly, daintily flicking a brown banana peel off the leather shoulder of his overly edgy costume. “You mean ran away long enough to lose him, sure. We haven’t neutralized him. He’s perfectly capable of finding us again. So is Lung, for that matter.”

“Must you always be such a killjoy, dear Grue?” Asked Regent cheerfully, seemingly unbothered by the mysterious brown liquid staining the splendid leggings of his exquisitely tasteful costume. “I was quite sure that Lung would have killed us by now, I think a little cheer is in order.”

“Let him come,” Bitch growled. “I can take him.”

“Right,” said Tattletale breezily, staring at the blazing fire in the Docks. “Good attitude.”

Lung planning ambush. Should have shown by now. Held up. Fought a cape. Losing. If victorious, would have come after me.

Fuck yeah! She pumped her fists. Everything was coming up Undersider tonight!

“Looks like Lung stubbed his toe pretty damn hard,” said Tats saucily, giggling at her own joke. “He’s fighting another cape. Let’s finish his scrawny ass while he’s distracted.”

With that, the four of them climbed out of the dumpster they’d been hiding in, and Bitch used her power to make her adorable little puppies into adorable little murder ponies.

Unfortunately, her flawless plan hit an unavoidable snag. Well, unavoidable for her. Curse her soft heart, her heroic nature, her utterly selfless empathy for her fellow man! Without hesitation, Tats jumped off her murder pony, peeled off her mask, and ran to the girl’s side.

“Tattletale,” said Grue sternly. “What are you doing? We don’t have time for this.”

Ankles sprained. Feet bruised. Elbows scraped. Jumped off a two-story building. Suicidal. Got into fight with Lu-

Sarah shut down her power. She’d heard enough. She didn’t need to know more.

“You okay, hon?” She asked the poor girl. “It’s dangerous here. Some capes are fighting. You need to get home, kay?”

The girl nodded dully, still miserable.

Nervous about what she’s done. Scared of going home. Abusive parents? Not physically. Neglectful. Abused, but not at home. School? Boyfriend? Bullies?

Sarah bit her lip. Her powers couldn’t push further without more information.

“Much as I hate to agree with our fearless leader,” said Regent. “He’s right. We need to go. This is our chance. We can’t afford to waste it for some civvy caught in the crossfire.”

“What’s your name?” Asked Sarah, giving the girl a friendly smile. “I’m Lisa. Lisa Wilbourne.”

“...Taylor,” said the girl, her eyes faraway. “Hebert…”

Mind elsewhere. Worried. Doesn’t notice she’s surrounded by villains despite obvious costumes and mutant dogs. Attempted suicide by cape. Failed. Self destructive. Will try again soon. Lonely. 

But how could she fix it?

Sarah didn’t know. Not yet. But she knew not to ignore it.

“You got a pen?” Sarah asked.

Taylor reached into her oversized gray hoodie, and handed one to Sarah. Sarah took Taylor’s hand, and scribbled her number onto it.

“Call me tomorrow morning,” said Sarah. “As a favor to me. If you don’t, I’ll be worried. Here’s some money. Use it to take a bus back home.”

The girl nodded despondently.

“Call me,” said Sarah sharply. “I’m serious. It’s dangerous and I’m worried about you. I’ll call the cops if you don’t.”

“I can tell you’ve been having a tough time.” Sarah wrapped the girl in a hug. “Get home safe, kay? People care about you, ya hear?”

The girl sniffed, and offered a hesitant smile. “Thanks Lisa… It’s good to remember… There are good people out there.”

“Call me,” said Sarah. “Don’t forget.”

The girl nodded, and walked towards the nearest bus stop, still limping but her back just a little more straight.

“Okay, you’ve done your good deed for the day,” said Regent. “Can we go die now?”

Tats nodded, climbing back atop one of Bitch’s murder ponies. “Undersider express is at full capacity. Let’s go ragdoll that little bitch Lung!”

As it turned out, Lung was nowhere to be seen. There were a few ABB members bleeding out by the burning building, and a whole lot of blood and water.

Salt water. Sand. From the ocean? Victims have wounded feet. Fought a cape who can shoot pressurized water. Where is Lung? Gone. Swept into bay? Too far, no water trail.

Tats swaggered to a retching ABB member, squatted down, and slapped him to attention. 

“Where’s your boss?” Tats demanded. “Why hasn’t he killed us yet?”

The ABB member shivered and looked away.

Lung is dead.

Damn condescending power. Sometimes it stated the obvious. She’d have figured that one out on her own, she wished it would respect her intelligence just a little bit more.

Bitch pulled him by his hair, and dragged him to one of her mutant dogs. “Answer the question, or I’ll have Brutus rip out your throat.”

The man pissed himself, and shook his head. “Can’t. Can’t. Watching. She’ll kill me. Kill us all.”

“I’ll kill you,” said Bitch. “You think I’m lying? I’ll kill you!”

The man laughed weakly. “You? You’ll make an enemy of her for what? You think you can take her? With those things? She’ll kill you. Kill you as easily as she killed Lung… All of you. No matter what your powers are. No matter your plans. Only one woman can be Everywhere.”

“Think she’s so great; what are her powers?” Bitch growled.

Tats snarled, nobody stole her spotlight! She wasn’t to be outdone by some no-name mook! She raised a hand. “Go,” she told the man. “Run. Leave and never return.”

The man nodded, collected his fellows, and fled.

Bitch yanked her neck. “I had him! I could’ve made him talk!”

Tattletale pulled free, and began to pace, tapping her lips knowingly. She lived for these moments. “I didn’t need him to squeal, unraveling the situation was elementary my dear Bitch. Lung went up against a very crafty teleporter and lost spectacularly. These men here have less of an understanding of her powers than I do.”

“Then what are they?” Bitch growled. “How’d she do this?”

“Intimidation and cleverness,” said Tats smugly. “I doubt these imbeciles have the faintest clue what she can do. If you asked them, why I bet they’d just go on and on, deflecting the questions about her power again and again, always pretending to misunderstand what you were asking. Talking much and saying little. Why I bet even four sentences in they’d have not even started to answer your question. Just given you more and more filler, as if they liked the sound of their own voice. It would be extremely annoying. I mean, not to me, I’m a paragon of patience. Relaxed. Chill. Copacetic. But to someone with a short fuse like you, why I imagine it would really get on your nerves. Maybe your face would even get all red. You know, like it is right now.”

Bitch growled.

“Okay, okay,” said Tattletale, raising her hands innocently. “Learn to take a joke, will ya? Anyways, I’ll tell ya once Armsmaster leaves.” She peeked past her teammate, and waggled her fingers flirtatiously at the blue clad cape hiding atop the burning building. “Hey there hero. What brings you to our treacherous abode?”

“Tattletale,” said Armsmaster, jumping down, and pointing a halberd at her. “You’re under arrest. Come quietly, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

“Come quietly? You ask for the impossible,” said Tattletale dramatically. “I’m never quiet. And I don’t think you really want me to be either, do ya hero?”

Armsmaster hesitated.

Came down here when he saw fire. Shoulders slumped. Hoping for a conflict between the ABB and Empire. Hoping to find Lung or Kaiser. Disappointed to find you.

What? Seriously power? Had it broken? That couldn’t possibly be real. Why?

Insecure about power. Feels responsible for rising criminal activity in Bay. Needs to capture a big name to prove himself.

“There’s bigger fish to fry,” said Tattletale. “Nobody will be impressed by you capturing the Undersiders. We gave Oni Lee the slip earlier tonight. I can point you in the right direction.”

“You’re right,” said Armsmaster reluctantly. “You Undersiders are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Inconsequential. But you’re still criminals. You’ve still committed multiple robberies. Point me to Lung or Kaiser, and I’ll try to have your sentences reduced. You have my word.”

Irrelevant? Inconsequential?

“Hah!” Tats barked, trying to get her breathing under control. “I can tell you where Lung is. Dead! We killed him, why don’t ya get that through your thick blue skull. So why don’t you take your ‘inconsequential’, and shove it real good and deep up in your ass!”

Armsmaster chuckled. “That’s a good one, Tattletale. As if you pathetic Undersiders would even have the courage to fight Lung. I’ve studied you extensively. I know your modus operandi. Like cockroaches, you’re a group that relies on hit-and-run tactics. I can admit that of the villains in the city, you are among the most benign. But. You will tell me where Lung is, and you will come peacefully.”

“Dead,” said Tats furiously. “Dead and buried. In the bottom of the Atlantic I expect! We killed him! Tell everyone what happens when you fuck with the motherfucking Undersiders! The ABB tried to run up on us, and went right on running off a damn cliff! Undersiders! Number one! In a few years, we’ll be running this whole damn city! Not Kaiser. Not Oni Lee. Not that smug cunt Coil! And certainly not you, or your little gang that prance around like show dogs pretending you’re any different than the rest of us. Me! The Undersiders, so you’re gonna bow down bitc-”

“What my friend means to say,” said Grue, covering her mouth with a leathered glove. “Is that we believe that Lung was killed by a new cape calling herself Everywhere. We got the name from one of the grunts who witnessed the fight, but they were uncooperative in terms of revealing powers.”

“True,” said Armsmaster, sighing. “Dammit.”

Has possession of a lie detector.

No shit power. In other obvious news, Grue squealing about the new cape may have just killed them all. At least he hadn’t been dumb enough to blurt out that she was a teleporter. Although you’d have to be a damn dunce, not to be able to deduce that from a name like Everywhere. Of course, Tats had learned to never underestimate the stupidity of the common man.

“It’ll be a blow if an Endbringer hits the east coast,” Grue agreed diplomatically. “That said, Tattletale wasn’t lying about Oni Lee. We know his general location. If you capture him, you’ll have ended the ABB in one night. You can say you fought Lung, killed him in combat. Or you can give credit to Everywhere. It makes no difference to us, so long as you make it clear that we had nothing to do with Lung’s death. The way I see it you have two options. Option one: you can go be a hero, take down someone who even I can admit should be in birdcage, and let us go. Or, option two, you can try and capture us. We can’t fight you Armsmaster, and we won’t try. We’ll run. You’ve seen how hard we are to catch. So what do you want to do, really?”

Armsmaster pressed a button on his helmet.

Deactivating his recording. Will take the deal. Feels guilty. Will make it his mission to capture us in the future.

Aww shit. What a total pain in the ass. This is why negotiations should have been left to Tattletale. If Grue had just let her keep mouthing off, she’d have had Armsmaster curled up in a corner in two minutes flat. The glory-seeking oaf reeked of insecurity, a few barbs and him all his pride would’ve deflated like a broken balloon. Now he’d be riding their asses for a few weeks. Ah well, at least it’d teach Grue a valuable lesson on shushing her, rather than letting Tats cook.

“Fine,” said Armsmaster. “Where is he?”

Grue pointed him in the right direction.

“Armsmaster,” said Tattletale, letting her trusty smile drop for a moment, “A word of advice. Don’t take credit for this… It’ll be the end of you. The new cape, she just triggered. She still doesn’t know what she’s doing, and she’s already accomplished more in ten days than you have in ten years. That’s what an A-lister looks like. If you were smart, you’d recruit her into the protectorate. Her actions might not be completely legal, she has ideals that you’d find villainous, but that’s all irrelevant, because she’s got a better power than you. Sweep it under the rug, whatever the normal salary is for a ward- triple it. If she’s got a problem with any of the current members, get rid of them. Whatever it takes to get her on board. You can’t beat her, so make use of her as best you can. Trying to fight her will be as pointless as trying to fight Leviathan.”

Armsmaster mumbled, “Never listen to a thinker,” and fled.

And so the spiral began. He’d blame her for it, probably. Or maybe he’d surprise her, and accept responsibility. Afterall, her advice had all been genuine, if he could humble himself enough to take it. And he and his lie detection software knew that.

“Are you stupid?” Asked Grue. “Antagonizing the head of the protectorate. Taking credit for Lung? Are you trying to get us all killed?”

Unfortunately, her colleagues proved once more that they'd last all of half-a-day without her wise guidance.

“Grue, Grue, Grue,” said Tattletale, shaking her head sadly, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking deep into his eyes. “Never, ever, call me stupid. Now I’m gonna have to make you look real dumb, and I like you, so just know that as painful and embarrassing as this will be for you, it’ll be maybe a quarter as painful for me, which is still fairly unpleasant. So please, allow me to explain my so-called stupid positions. I didn’t once lie to Armsmaster- I just pushed him in a direction he was already planning to go, made sure to drive a wedge between Everywhere and the PRT. You saw what she did here, you really want to have her trying to capture us? The ABB launched an open operation against us tonight. Now they’re half gone. What’s left is going to assume that we did it, no matter what we say. Armsmaster isn’t going to capture Oni Lee, and Oni Lee and whatever flunkies he can scrap together are gonna be going after our heads until we put them down. That’s set in stone. Final. Capisce? So let’s roll with it. We can’t do anything about the ABB, but if we take credit for it, the next person who gets it in their head that we’re some soft target is gonna think twice.”

“And hit three times as hard,” said Grue. He shook his head. “Fine. You’re right Tattletale, you always are. But as best I can see it we’re still fucked. We don’t have the heavy hitters to take on Oni Lee.”

“Let him come,” growled Bitch. “If we fight, we fight.”

“I like your attitude,” said Tattletale cheerfully. “But I think Grue is right. We’re going to need some more muscle if we’re going to survive the ABB.”

And Coil. 

She glanced meaningfully at the burning building. The seawater. The blood.

“How would you guys feel about adding a new member?” Tattletale asked, with a vulpine smile. “And Grue, do remember to never call me stupid.”

Chapter Text

Author’s Note: I decided chapter 1 was boring, and folded it into chapter 2. Due to that, you may want to reread chapter 2, as it’s entirely new, and details how Tattletale found Taylor.

Please leave a comment if you’d be willing to beta read.

ooOoo

“Well that’s fucking horrifying,” said Lisa sympathetically, patting my shoulder. “Yeah, I think I’d rather spend a night with Lung than those three. But Mrs Knott is right about one thing, there are psychopaths everywhere. That’s just the world. It’s the teachers, the principals, the other students, your par- the people who saw what was happening, and didn’t stop it, that’s what really puts my mood in the shitter. Can’t say I’m surprised though. Most folks are real hesitant to talk, don’t want to be seen as a tattletale- not me. I take pride in making the truth come to light- whatever anyone thinks. Look, I don't like to brag, but I'm pretty good at handling situations like this, legally or-”

I shook my head. “Her dad's a lawyer. Even the school is afraid of persecuting her. One of my teachers admitted it.”

“It makes me sick,” said Brian, a tall Black man who I found difficult to look at. Was I leering? Drooling? I was acting normal right? I knew that getting self-conscious would only make the situation worse, but I didn’t have a lot of experience talking to guys even half as hot as he was. “That you couldn’t sue the school for all this. But you were right to settle. The courts in Brockton Bay aren’t any better than your school’s administration. That said, you should take Lisa’s help. I don’t care how good her dad is, Lisa would rip him apart in minutes.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that someone, anyone, actually cared. But this felt like Emma’s work: get me to open up, get me to think I had a friend, only for them to betray me. She’d done it to me twice before. The possibility of a third terrified me more than a confrontation with Jack Slash himself. It also didn’t make any sense logically. Lisa had found me just after I’d fought Lung, in the heart of ABB territory, near a burning building. Who’d risk their life for me, even if it was to hurt me?

They would, a part of me whispered, sounding like Emma in my ear. Lisa, Brian, and Alec. They’d betray me. Nobody had ever actually liked me. Even before the bullying, I’d only been shielded by my connection to Emma. And Mom and Dad, they’d just felt obligated to care for me because they were my parents. And once Mom died, Dad was too tired to keep up the fiction. There was something in me, something ugly. Nobody could ever like me.

Oh god, I was being setup wasn’t I? Fuck, how had she done it? How’d I let this happen to me again?

“These fries suck ass,” Alec complained bitterly, pushing around his food like a pouting toddler. “Greasy and floppy. Fugly Bob's makes some fugly fries, what a waste of time.”

Brian punched Alec in the arm.

Alec sighed. “Oh yes. I'm supposed to be pretending to be sympathetic to the suicidal girl's teenage drama. Awful! Horrible! Positively dreadful! Seriously, why am I here again? Shouldn't we be out recrui-”

Brian punched him in the arm a little harder.

But I liked Alec. He felt like the only one I could trust.

Lisa sighed, and rubbed her eyes. “Right. Excellent point Alec. How could I have forgotten that you have the emotional range of a two-year-old?”

Alec mopped up some ketchup with his fries sulkily, and flicked the glop at Lisa like a toddler. Even though he wasn't my type, I could still say he was one of the most beautiful boys I'd ever seen. How had Emma even convinced Lisa to do all this? Lisa certainly didn’t need any help attracting boys, she’d already surrounded herself with eyecandy. Was it just the sport of it? Did popular, beautiful girls just get a kick out of torturing me?

“Seriously though,” said Alec. “Why kill yourself? Those three girls, especially that one who used to be your friend- they’re the ones you should hate. I could hook you up with a gun if you needed one. If you're planning on ending it, you may as well take them with you.”

“Is that it?” I asked bitterly. “Is that your angle? You’re trying to set me up. You think I’m really the type of person who is capable of shooting up a school? Nice try, and I’ll give you points for creativity, but I know what you’re trying to do. I’m never, ever going to shoot up the school. I’m not that kind of person!”

“Yes you are,” said Lisa, smirking at me lazily. “No matter how much you deny it, I know that you’re perfectly capable of shooting up a school, of killing a few bullies. You can lie to yourself; you can’t lie to me.”

“Emma sent you, didn’t she?” I asked bitterly, furious that I’d bothered to call. Furious that I’d let them get one over on me again. “Well she doesn’t know me as well as she thinks she does! I’m not a killer!”

“Tell that to Lung,” said Lisa with relish.

…What?

She knew? She knew?

I let out a breath. Oh thank god. If Emma and Sophia were the height of popularity at Winslow, these guys were the major leagues of cool. The type of kids that were filmed on reality shows, because of their charisma and beauty. And I was Taylor Hebert. The girl they thought was suicidal. I could be on tv too, but I’d be the type they’d make a PSA about. An archetypical victim, so obviously pathetic that the show wouldn’t have to waste time establishing that I was the type of loser who’d get bullied.

It hadn’t made any sense that they’d want to be friends with me, even out of sympathy. I knew what people were like. It had been beaten into me. Two years of bullying, not a single student stood up for me, not a single teacher, not even Dad had noticed. It had all culminated in the locker. What had bothered me most wasn’t the used tampons, it wasn’t the bloody pads, it wasn’t the bugs biting and crawling, it wasn’t how my nails had bent and torn when I clawed against unforgiving metal, it wasn’t how my lungs had burned as my cage slowly asphyxiated me, it was the crushing realization that not a single person was going to help that had broken me. The indisputable proof that everyone agreed with Emma, I was better off dead.

People didn’t care about right and wrong. They only cared about themselves.

But now I was a cape. I had something to offer.

Now I understood why they’d contacted me. Well, why Lisa had contacted me. Alec had fallen out of his chair, and Brian had dropped his cheeseburger onto his lap. They clearly hadn’t known.

“You knew? I asked. “Is that why… Is that why you were so interested in me?”

It should've made me angry. She was using me. A cape to make her regular life more interesting. Instead I just felt relief. Because Lisa was probably the single coolest person I’d ever met. She was pretty, stylish, and had a way of making you feel like you were the center of the world. The type of person who could be the most popular girl in school; and yet inspire no jealousy- because everyone just agreed that she should be the queen bee. It hadn't made any sense that someone like her would actually care about someone like me.

But if she knew I was a cape?

I think I actually preferred it to her just taking a liking to some aspect of my personality. Look, it was pathetic, I know, but I didn’t know how to handle a friendship. But a cape and a fan- that was an easy relationship to understand. I gave her an entry to the glamorous world of capes, and she gave me companionship and a sympathetic ear. I knew exactly what she wanted from me, what I had to give her to keep her from turning on me. God, I was lame. I hated myself for accepting this abomination of a relationship, but I’d lost any shred of self respect long ago.

“I'd be lying if I denied that it was an element,’’ said Lisa with a vulpine smile, getting out an Alexandria lunchbox. “After I saw you, I did what anyone would do, and investigated the big ass fire. Saw Lung, or rather didn't see Lung, saw the ABB gangbangers on the ground, and well… I can’t just decide not to be a genius, so I made the connection, even if it corrupted what really would have been a pure relationship. Am I correct in my assumption that you are the one who finally saved the city from Lung?”

I should've denied it. Logically, it was the smart thing to do. I barely knew them. Naturally, I did the opposite of what a smart person would do and told them everything.

“Look,” I said. “I know it sounds like I was committing suicide by cape, but I really did think I could pull it off.”

“So what?” Asked Brian, his voice quivering in suppressed anger. “Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. Lots of capes could probably take out Lung, but none of them are stupid enough to go out of their way to try it. It was reckless and stupid.”

“I’m still here aren’t I?” I asked defensively. I’d finally opened myself up, and the first thing was criticism? Not even about the dubious ethics of my actions, but about the intelligence? That actually hurt. Of all my faults, I’d never considered myself stupid. “Besides, it would’ve been a lot easier to ignore him if he hadn’t been planning on killing a bunch of kids. I couldn’t exactly leave them, could I?”

“You could’ve,” Brian growled. “You should’ve. Not your problem. Capes like you die quick.”

Oh well fuck you too. I’d saved some kids. I’m sure that they would disagree that their lives were worthless.

“I think you did a wonderful thing saving those innocent children,” said Alec gleefully. “Why Taylor, I do believe I’ve misjudged you. I can see now why Lisa was so insistent on me coming. I do hope we see more of you. Having a true hero for a friend will be utterly, what’s the word? Ah yes, convenient.”

I felt like he was mocking me. Perhaps I deserved it.

“It wasn’t really about the children,” I admitted.

“No,”Alec drawled. “Well, agree to disagree. I consider the lives of those precious children the only important thing in your story. Or well, the life of one of the children. Brian agrees with me by the way- but it’s his life’s purpose to be a killjoy.”

“It wasn’t about saving children, it was about sending a message to the villains,” I said, standing on my metaphorical soap box. I’d done a lot of thinking after I’d killed Lung, about the fundamental problems in Brockton Bay: why they hadn’t been fixed and how I could solve them. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve done the research. There are almost twice as many new villains as heroes. Why? It’s not because they’re evil. It’s because we’re letting it happen. Yeah there’s birdcage, but unless you’re out murdering folks you’re not getting sent there, and a normal jail can’t hold a cape. They don’t even reveal the secret identities of captured capes- not even for the really bad guys, I’ve been watching the news and they never mention it! Like hello, why are we protecting these pieces of shit? It’s as if our system is trying to turn people into villains! And you’d think, okay then being a hero has gotta come with some perks right? No! The average ward only makes about a hundred grand annually, that’s about as much as a part-time fry cook at McDonald’s. And then you’ve got all the redtape and PR stuff to worry about, not to mention everyone second guessing every decision you make. Let a villain go and you’re not tough enough, hurt them and you’re a thug, go on news shows and you’re only in it for the fame, work quietly and you’re a snob. It’s no wonder things have gotten so bad. Being a hero kinda sucks, is it any wonder so many more capes go villain?”

Lisa’s smile dropped, and her eyes widened like she’d just realized something important.

I continued, encouraged that I was reaching her. “So most new parahumans take the easy way out, because let’s face it; it’s the better deal and most people don’t really care about morals. We like to think we do the right thing because of our conscience. Bullshit. We only care about doing the right thing when there are consequences for doing the wrong thing, whether it be social or legal. I’ve seen it. I’m not talking about Emma or Sophia, I’m talking about all the other kids who jumped on the opportunity to kick me while I was down. Being a good person is just a tool to gain social capital, and if being righteous doesn’t earn you popularity, the average person won’t do it. If you were a cape, you’d probably be a villain, the statistics are what they are for a reason, don’t pretend you’d be any different. I’m not sure why Eidolin or Alexandria don’t clean up the mess. But I can guess. I think it’s because they’ve been capes for so long, they just see it all as training for the Endbringers, and just let the little farce go on and on. They’ve forgotten what it’s like for the little guy. Most of the ABB gangbangers I hurt yesterday probably weren’t even bad people. They just got caught up in Lung and Oni Lee’s orbit. Everybody thinks about the capes, but we’ve forgotten about the victims. The average citizens being trampled by all the fighting, the underlings who’d never have turned to crime if they didn’t see the villains glamorizing it. Lung was just the start. I’ll probably go after Kaiser next. Then Hookwolf, then Skidmark, and on and on until every last villain in Brockton Bay is dead. I’ll probably just have to kill five or six of them, until all but the worst of them reform or go elsewhere. They aren’t bad people, they’re just doing what’s best for them, and in this case it’s crime. Crime should be dangerous, it should kinda suck to be a villain, and that’s what I’m going to make happen.”

Lisa put away her lunchbox. Brian slouched into his seat. Alec looked overjoyed.

“Well said,” said Alec seriously. “I’ve been around a lot more villains than most people. Most have their justifications, but they’re merely shallow rationalizations. Delusions to justify their monstrous cravings. Frankly I find it tedious to listen to. They’re all scum, and they’d do well to just admit that to themselves. They deserve to die, each and every one of them. I, for one, would be happy to support you on your noble quest.”

“Interesting thoughts,” said Lisa, her smile slightly less radiant. “But have you considered switching your target? The ABB knows what you did, and they’re going to want revenge. Take out Oni Lee first, then switch to Kaiser and the Empire unless you find out about someone worse. The ABB is a cornered animal right now. They’re going to lash out and hurt a lot of people if you don’t put them down right now. Also, I’m pretty sure the tinker you mentioned earlier was Bakuda. Nasty thing. Tried to blow up Cornell. Absolutely someone you’re going to want to take down.”

“And there it is!” Alec laughed, and slapped Lisa on the back. “You really are amusing Ta- Lisa. This is why I agreed to follow you.”

I smiled shyly. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll look into Bakuda. You’re… It’s so great that I don’t have to do this on my own. After everything that happened with Emma, it’s nice to have someone I can trust again.”

Lisa smiled cheerfully. “You bet.”

Brian glared at the two of them, but said nothing.

“Listen,” said Lisa. “When you go out on your missions, let me know. That way, if anything happens, we can let your dad know and get him into hiding. I can help you Taylor, but you need to let me in. Tell me where you’re going, what you’re doing, and I can act as your operations manager.”

A nagging suspicion sparked in the back of my mind. Something about our first meeting, when her kind words had pushed me from the brink after I fought Lung, some detail I was missing… No, no, I was just reluctant because of everything that had happened with Emma. It sucked. But I needed to move past it, not let her ruin every relationship I ever had going forward.

“Okay,” I said.

“So we’re a team,” said Lisa.

“We’re a team,” said Alec.

“Yeah,” I breathed, wiping my eyes. “We’re a team.”

For now at least, I had friends. It would be a fun illusion while it lasted. 

“Fuck this,” said Brian sourly. Which was naturally less than five seconds. Fuck my life for real. “I can’t go along with this. Taylor, if you start hunting down villains, you’re gonna make a lot of people angry. All the capes in the city will become your enemy. They’ll put aside their differences to take you down. All the villains. And all the heroes. Lisa, Alec, I’m disappointed in you. We all know damn well that this is only going to end one way.”

Alec ignored him. “So I’ve been wondering Tay, those portals of yours, can you really only make two? Seems like quite the limitation.”

“Well, no,” I admitted. “I can technically make two pairs of stamps, but it’s really not worth it. I kinda… lose control of it. With two sets, I can lose track of my stamps for hours at a time, and then I can’t use any of them, nor replace or deactivate them. I become powerless.”

Trapped. Stuck. Like I had been in the locker.

“It makes my power unreliable,” I said. “Even if everything goes perfectly, the range and weight limits of the stamps are halved. But with one set, I can win, as long as I’ve planned ahead. Further practice with two sets is a waste of time.”

“One set it is,” said Lisa. “But Tay, Alec is right. As you saw with Lung, plans don’t always work out no matter how well conceived. If you can’t fight with two sets of portals, you’d be wise to find some capes who wouldn’t mind working with you. Even villains if you have to. It doesn’t have to be permanent, but just… If they’re in the area, and they’re not doing anything too bad, consider talking with them to see if your goals might temporarily align. The cover they can provide will save your life, and the information they might have is priceless. Not all the villains are going to be broadcast on the news Taylor, some of the nastiest in the city are content to lurk in the shadows. Others may be willing to turn to your side if you free a hostage, or kill their leader. Nobody can change the world on their own. If you want to make a difference, you’re going to need some friends.”

I smiled. “I have you.”

Lisa nodded. “You do. And don’t forget it girl. Don’t ever forget it.”

Brian scowled. “She’s playing you Taylor… And I won’t have it. She’s just after you for your powers. If she cared, she’d tell you how fucking crazy you’re being. You’re going to die- you know that right?”

“Probably,” I admitted. I didn’t care that Lisa was playing me. At least she’d been honest. She hadn’t had to tell me she’d known I was a cape, but she’d done so anyway. I was well aware she was only using me for my powers, why else would she care about a pathetic little nobody like me? As for my inevitable death, that bothered me even less. “But it doesn’t matter. This is what the city needs, and nobody else is going to do it.”

“It isn’t your responsibility,” said Brian. “Far as I can tell, the city’s fucked you over. You don’t owe it a damn thing.”

“I’m not doing it for the city,” I said firmly. “I’m doing it for me. This is my purpose. It’s why I was given these powers. It’s why I had to go through what I went through.”

“You were given your powers because your best friend shoved you in a locker and left you to die,” said Brian coldly. “It’s called a trigger event. A cape gets their powers on the worst day of their life.”

“I… How do you know all this?”

“Yeah,” asked Lisa. “How do you know all this, Brian? Care to explain to me? To Everywhere?”

“Because I’m a bad guy. A criminal…” Brian glared at Lisa and Alec. “I’ve worked with villains who would make your stomach turn, Taylor. They’ve got no honor. No decency. They’d rip you apart before you even knew what happened to you. And they wouldn’t think twice about it.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Some are evil and greedy, but most of them are just desperate,” said Brian. “It’s a dangerous world, and they don’t feel like they’ve got a choice. They think killing each other is the only option. Like you do.”

“No,” I said. “I meant why did you become a criminal?”

“Oh god, this will be tedious,” Alec drawled. “You remember what I said about delusions and rationalizations?”

Brian scowled. “He’s not wrong, and it also doesn’t matter. Remember what I said about trigger events? Every cape is going to have a sob story. You fall for it and you’re dead. I’ve been in the business a long time, with people who could kill me before I could blink. Survival isn’t about how good you are at fighting, nor about your powers. It’s about being careful. You’re a meticulous planner, which is good, but that’s not as important as knowing when to say no. The most important skill you can learn is how to recognize a bad idea. Taylor, this is a really, really bad idea.”

“Oh no you don’t,” said Lisa angrily. “I’m not letting you off that easy. I didn’t know you were a criminal Brian. You’re not going to gloss over that. You’d better have a damn good reason or we’re through.”

“Fuck you Lisa,” said Brian. “You need me.”

“I really don’t,” said Lisa. “So you’d better explain, or we’re done.”

“I beat up a man who deserved it,” said Brian, folding his arms. “Found myself on the wrong side of the law. Needed money, and being a thug was the only way to get it. And so here I am.”

“Cute.” Lisa shook her head. “Try again.”

Brian ground his teeth angrily.

“No, no, it’s enough for me,” I said quickly. “Look, you might not believe me, but I’m actually doing this for people like you. The law can’t be effective when a whole subset of the population can openly make a mockery of it. When the law isn’t effective, people like you have to take justice into your own hands. And in a world like that, businesses can’t thrive, so people need money more than ever, and there aren’t any opportunities to make money legally. It’s because nobody but capes can police capes, and the heroes are more interested in PR and seeming chivalrous than actually bringing justice to the villains ruining the city for everyone.”

“You’re just wrong,” said Brian, standing. “If you think removing the gangs will make a damn bit of difference. If you want to fix Brockton Bay, kill Leviathan so our import export business can return. And while you’re at it, go back and keep Simurgh from nuking the world’s tech sector into oblivion and giving us a two-year nuclear winter, keep Behemoth from destroying the stock market in New York, keep Leviathan from sinking Japan and flooding the bay with refugees. You’re right, the capes are the problem. The strongest more than any. Behemoth. Leviathan. Simurgh. As long as they’re in the picture, nothing’s getting fixed. End the Endbringers if you want to save the world. If you can’t do that, then just survive like the rest of us.”

I hung my head. Who was I to lecture him about the criminal underworld? He was more familiar with it than I was.

Well…

I was me.

I was allowed to have an opinion.

“Brian, sit down,” I said quietly, a frigid focus clarifying my thoughts. “I don’t resent my classmates for not pushing back on my bullies publicly. Emma, Sophia, Madison, they’re the queens of the school. If anyone opposed them, they’d have it just as bad as me. But they could’ve met the principal anonymously. They could’ve tipped off a teacher with a note on the back of their assignment. Maybe they couldn’t have saved me, but they could’ve helped. That’s all I’m trying to do. I’m not trying to save the world. I’m not trying to save Brockton Bay. I’m just trying to do what I can to help. Giving up because I can’t fix everything is an excuse. It would be cowardice. And I’m not a coward. Are you?”

Brian stared at me. “I’m a survivor.”

He left.

Well, that was probably fair.

“Running away, that'll show her,” Alec yelled after him. “And he's gone. Well, that's a shame.”

I groaned.

Brian probably thought I was a murderous psychopath. In some ways I was. I wasn't particularly concerned about killing Kaiser or Skidmark, and I still didn't feel any regret over what I'd done to Lung, but my guns blazing approach would get a lot more dubious when it came to their henchmen. And I didn't really want to think about trying to justify killing minor villains like Uber and Leet, whose vile string of robberies consisted solely of arcades whose cabinets they’d considered subpar derivative trash. In my defense, those problems would solve themselves when I inevitably bit the dust. It was all a misunderstanding. I must’ve exaggerated how easy it had been to take out Lung. To somebody who didn’t know me, I may have actually seemed like a powerful cape, instead of a loser whose plans always blew up in her face. Come to think of it, maybe I preferred him thinking of me as some burgeoning supervillain to my actual pitiable self.

I still liked him well enough. He'd stood by his beliefs. I could respect that. As proof that my feelings were pure: Even if he wasn't so hot, I'd have respected it.

“He’ll be back,” said Lisa. “So tell me Taylor?”

What now? Cape names? Code protocol? Ideas for revenue streams?

“Do you need any help with your homework?”

Oh, that was significantly more mundane than I expected. Kinder too. It was almost as if she actually cared about me. It was really gonna suck when she inevitably turned on me, but for now, I really appreciated the illusion of friendship.

ooOoo

One more thing to do. A promise I'd made to myself , after my disastrous fight with Lung.

My dad got back from work.

I hesitated.

“Hey dad?” I asked. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah kiddo?” Asked Dad, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I’m all ears. You can tell me anything, you know that right? I’m always on your side.”

Sure. I had my doubts. I know he’d once loved me, I know he thought he still did, but… He didn’t even know me anymore. He didn’t know that Emma had turned on me, he didn’t know I was being bullied, he didn’t know that I was a cape.

He didn’t know that I killed a man. I’d killed a man and not felt guilty. Worried obviously, but I’d honestly felt more guilty about my lack of guilt. But even that was waning. I’d killed a man, I planned on killing more, and I thought it was the right thing to do because I’d learned that there was no justice in our justice system.

So yeah.

Know all that, then tell me you love me.

“I don’t know quite how to say this,” I admitted. Alright, just spit it out Taylor. You know you’re gonna have to eventually, so do it now- because waiting is just gonna get you hurt.

“But do you want to play catch some time? I want to try out for the softball team.”

Chapter Text

A/N: Big thanks to Two Pence for beta reading!

ooOoo

“I’ve reviewed the images you’ve sent me,” said Director Costa-Brown, her voice as commanding over the phone as it was in person. “It is my opinion that, at this time, the self-proclaimed Everywhere is not PRT material.”

Armsmaster was glad to hear it, but wanted to ask why. Tattletale’s words had stung, because they were- on some level- true. He’d been so sure of himself when he’d been granted his position as head of the Brockton Bay Protectorate. He’d seen colleagues take things too lightly, seen other hero-teams treat the whole thing like a game of cops-and-robbers. He hadn’t treated it like a game. He’d sacrificed friends, women, any semblance of a personal life in pursuit of driving the villain’s out of Brockton Bay. He probably wasn’t very popular among his team, but he’d done everything in his power to do right by his position.

Dauntless would soon replace him. If not Dauntless, then Miss Militia. If things didn’t change, Armsmaster would have no choice but to concede to being unqualified for leadership. He’d never had the charisma to inspire loyalty, so he’d sought to lead by example. But without any major achievements, he could feel his control eroding, the respect of his team waning, which in turn made it harder to coordinate his charges effectively. A cycle of failure feeding on itself, growing larger with each iteration. Brockton Bay was dying, day by day, and he didn’t have that one shining achievement needed to save it. The city needed a win, badly. Something to make people believe again; something to make him believe again. Instead, if the Undersiders were to be believed, a new supervillain would get credit for Lung due to her fortunate timing. Colin had run the simulations, he knew he would have defeated Lung, if only he had found Lung before the self-proclaimed Everywhere. It should have been him. The city needed it to be him. Instead all the glory for toppling Lung would go to an unknown, who at best, was powerless to make proper use of her victory, and at worst would use the prestige of defeating Lung to jumpstart a following of her own.

“It is my opinion that her power is not great enough to overlook the crime she committed. That is not to say that she is never going to be PRT material,” said Director Costa-Brown. “If she second-triggers, you will call me immediately, and I will contact the Triumvirate. We cannot allow a situation like Glaistig Uaine to ever happen again. But at this time, I strongly advise that you signal to her a soft-rejection…”

As Director Costa-Brown shared her advice on how to handle the new cape Armsmaster hid a smirk. Advice? Right. Not orders then, just advice. From a woman who could have him fired in five minutes. But not orders, it was all just her opinion. It was all so… petty. Political. More importantly, it allowed the PRT to maintain plausible deniability. He didn’t need the lecture from Director Costa-Brown, nor was he offended to be used as a pawn. He knew the organization well. It was standard operating procedure, as far as he was concerned: dishonest, dishonorable, underhanded, dirty, unfair. And necessary.

ooOoo

“...And this is all the evidence we have of her,” said Armsmaster, nodding at a picture of a rundown road with smears of blood, puddles of foamy water, and a cute blonde in a skintight black and lavender costume that had Dennis’s full approval. “I’ve consulted with Dragon, and it appears that this new parahuman has some kind of hydrokinesis ability. A blaster as high as seven, but no lower than four. She may have yet unknown abilities. She is to be treated as a hostile villain if you come across her during patrol. Try to bring her in, but call for backup, and only engage if you have the ability to retreat safely.”

“Two questions,” said Dennis, gently pushing away a halberd that while shelved, was just a bit too close for comfort. “First- that looks an awful lot like the ABB’s territory. She have anything to do with what happened to Lung?”

“No,” said Armsmaster. “As I stated in the press conference, I engaged Lung alone, but unfortunately overestimated his ability to regenerate.The fault is mine.”

“None of the Wards are upset that you killed him, we’re just happy he’s gone,” said Dennis lightly. He didn’t exactly like Armsmaster, but he didn’t want the man losing any sleep over what Dennis considered a good deed. “Second question- shouldn’t you be telling this to Aegis? Isn’t he normally the first one to be debriefed on potential threats?”

“That is protocol,” said Armsmaster, not looking away from any of the monitors in his workshop. “I’ve tried to be patient with you Clockblocker. With your power, the ability to stop objects in time, you’re the only ward in Brockton Bay with the potential to lead a protectorate branch. I see a great hero in you, Clockblocker, and I see a genuinely good person. But you’re immature, and your dedication is half-hearted. If you had Aegis or Vista’s drive, you’d be leading the team already. Speaking frankly, even Shadow Stalker has a better attitude.”

And she made for some decent eye candy. Was ole’ Armsy trying to offend him? Wouldn’t work. He knew the other wards had more drive. That wasn’t about to change. He’d mostly joined for the money over any real desire to make the world a better place, and every time he went on patrol he felt guilty that he wasn’t with his dad. “I’ll try to do better.”

“But not harder,” said Armsmaster. “Your slacker attitude will need to change. I’m putting you in charge of capturing Geyser.”

“Geyser?” Asked Clockblocker critically.

“A temporary name for the new cape,” said Armsmaster, waving his hand dismissively. “If you don’t like it, think of a better one.”

Okay, challenge accepted.

“And Clockblocker,” said Armsmaster, typing on his keyboard, not deigning to look up from his monitors. “While you may warn the other wards, do not inform anyone else of the new cape.”

“Why?” Asked Dennis.

“Because I said so,” said Armsmaster, a hint of a smile underneath his blue mask. “And if you should be foolish enough to leak the classified information, you’ll find yourself on extra patrols with Shadow Stalker. My trust is not unlimited Clockblocker. Don’t burn it or you’ll find yourself sidelined.”

“Right,” said Dennis, “Consider my lips frozen.”

For between two to ten minutes.

“Bruh,” said Dennis, to the officer escorting him to the ward dome. “You wouldn’t believe what they’re calling the newest cape.” He shared the best of his names. 

The officer spit out his coffee. “They’re not really calling her that, are they?”

Dennis shrugged, the very picture of innocent nonchalance. “What? I thought it was a very on brand name- fit with the power, y’know? She shoots jets of water, hence…”

The officer looked unimpressed. “You’d better hope that the new cape isn’t too dangerous. That mouth of yours is gonna get you killed, you know that kid?”

Maybe he’d found his calling. He’d enjoyed how his own name had made all the uptight suits get all butthurt, and he didn’t care how dangerous the newest cape was, he’d never inspire much fear going by the name Dennis had chosen for her. Maybe it’d inspire the cape to have some fun with her gifts, instead of just using her powers to be a self-important dildo like most parahumans.

Dennis pointed at himself in confusion. “What did I say? Hey, do me a favor, Dimitri. Don’t tell anyone. Well, unless you’re trying to impress a girl and she’s a… I dunno, at least a six. In personality I mean, or looks, I know guys like you are real shallow. Discretion is important and all, but I’ll never be a coc...”

ooOoo

“What the hell was that?” Brian asked, he’d finally made his way back to headquarters after his unexpected tantrum. Lisa could admit to being surprised by his reaction. Maybe she shouldn’t have been. Her powers had never hinted that Brian was particularly malicious or unethical, and he’d been nothing less than professional as an Undersider. Still, that was a far cry from the bleeding heart he’d been at Fugly Bob’s. Maybe becoming a ward to save his sister had really never occurred to him, after all. Stupid, but not everybody could be her. 

False. Delusions of superior intellect brought on by insecurity. Insecurity stems from childhood neglect and unwillingness to improve brought on by psychol-

Alright, how ‘bout no, power, ya damn wiggly bastard. Brian, we’re talking Brian here. Why didn’t he join the wards to save his sister?

Had thoughts of joining PRT. Assumes could help with sister. Distrusts authority. Prefers to keep options open.

“She’d have skittered away if we were honest about ourselves,” Lisa explained. “And like it or not, we need her firepower.”

“Maybe,” said Brian. “But I don’t like it. The dishonesty is unprofessional. Makes me feel like some smarmy government worker. It’s going to blow up in our faces eventually, and we’re going to have a cape stronger than Lung after us for a personal slight.”

Lying. Confused about girl. Feels connection. Wants to work with her. Wants to grow closer. Afraid of disappointing her. Interest personal. Sexual. Rejects attraction. Fears intimacy.

As if Tats hadn’t figured that out on her own already. Good going power, you’ve got the intuition of a bright middle school girl.

Supposed intellectual feats stem from power. Feats since triggering inconclusive evidence of superior intellect.

“You remember how I warned Taylor about Bakuda? The bitch in her story building bombs for Lung? I was being coy, trying to downplay the situation- you know, not make it completely fucking obvious I’m a cape? No, I suppose Mister Criminal here wouldn’t know anything about being circumspect. Well Bakuda changes things. Chick fucking triggered over a lousy grade, tried to fucking blow up Cornell over it. Now the gang she just joined is about to collapse, and if our boss’s information is good, Kaiser sent his youngest recruit Rune to her to negotiate a peaceful surrender. Chip on a shoulder like her’s, she’s going to want to make a splash, show that the ABB’s more than just Lung. I’d bet you three months of pay that Taylor and us are her first target. I suspect that most ABB members are going to be armed with her bombs, and Oni Lee- he’s a no-brainer,” said Lisa, feeling a headache coming on. 

“So what?” Asked Brian. “He had grenades before. We’ll just run from him, like we did last time.”

“We’re smash-and-grab,” said Lisa, shaking her head. “Eventually a job will go sideways. What if we get held up by the protectorate, and the ABB hears of it? If one of their goons detonates, the rest of them will know our location. We can’t keep hiding forever. Boss is still gonna want us to complete jobs for him… Speaking of which… Don’t you think it was too convenient? Boss asks us to take on Lung, and then just like that a new cape appears who takes him down, one we find before anyone else? Boss is a precog. He sent her to us for a reason.”

“I still don’t like it,” said Brian. “I didn’t sign up to trick teenagers into a life of crime.”

“Cool,” said Lisa. “Be a pro, stand up for your principles. Oni Lee tags you with a bomb, smears you across half the Docks. What happens to your sister then?”

Brian glared at her. “Fine. I’ll go along with your little game. Until we’re done with the ABB.”

Lisa shot him a vulpine smile. “Until we’ve taken out the people actively trying to kill us.”

“Then we come clean,” said Brian.

“Then we come clean,” Lisa agreed.

And like that, she had the vote needed to bring on a new team member. Lisa Wilbourne smiled, and punched in Taylor Herbert’s phone number on the Undersiders’ landline.

“Aye Tay Tay,” Lisa chirped. “You got anything new on the A Bay Bay?”

She’d done some thinkering on the ABB’s next move, and she was pretty confident she’d be able to talk Taylor out of any stupid ideas that might get her blown up.

“I do,” said Taylor. “I’ve got a lead. Using a similar strategy as last time, tagging a suspect ABB member and using my stamps to sense large indoor gatherings, I have a stamp near what I believe to be the ABB headquarters. I’ll need to confirm the location, get a stamp in the Atlantic, and plant a trap to take out Oni Lee. I’ve been working on some new applications of my power. I should be able to beat Bakuda in a straight fight even if I don't have access to the Atlantic stamp.”

Has found ABB HQ. Unverified. Will confirm tonight.

Stupid.

“Have you worked on using a second set of stamps like Alec suggested?” Lisa asked, shaking her head.

The line was uncomfortably silent for a moment. “I’ve determined that a second set is neither feasible nor necessary to carry out my goals,” said Taylor. “Practicing farther will be unproductive. Also it is… unpleasant, to have a second set.”

Again unbelievably stupid, but not the most pressing matter at the moment, at least not to Lisa.

“Hey Tay?” Asked Lisa. “Can you loosen up? You’re talking like a robot. You seemed a lot more comfortable at Fugly Bob’s.”

Another awkward silence.

Trying to sound professional. Wants to be taken seriously. Stiff demeanor operantly conditioned. Authenticity consistently punished for two years.

She tried her best to relate to what Taylor had gone through. Lisa’s parents had turned out to be shitty people, shittier than her somehow. She’d run, been homeless, been forced to work for Coil at gunpoint, and still didn’t really regret it… She’d been cheery too, upbeat when haggling for her life… Oh.

“I’m sorry,” said Lisa. “If I’m being honest, taking on the ABB, knowing Oni Lee might come after me, it freaks the hell out of me. For me, it helps to keep things upbeat and light, makes me feel like I’m in control. But if you want to keep our relationship strictly professional, treat a serious situation seriously, I can do that.” 

She heard Taylor breathing. 

“I tried making the second set of portals work,” Taylor said. “And sometimes I can do it. But sometimes it just short circuits my powers, and I go back to being what I was… before.”

Unimportant. Powerless. Trapped.

Lisa was sympathetic, but Tattletale was smart enough not to be.

“So it makes you think of being stuck in the locker,” said Tattletale. “That sucks. It really does. What also sucks is the fact that if you go to ABB headquarters without having full mastery of your powers you’re probably going to die. Oni Lee has been in the business for ten years. Bakuda got into Cornell with a full ride. They’re not fools. I saw the aftermath of your fight with Lung, and you left some clues. The blood, the saltwater, but most importantly the location. Your attack was by their headquarters. Now you’re planning on attacking them… Right by their headquarters. It’s speculation, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be prepared this time.”

“I know it’s dangerous,” said Taylor. “But what am I supposed to do? Just le-”

“Practice,” said Lisa quickly. “I’m not telling you to ignore the ABB forever, I’m not even saying to avoid their headquarters. Just wait until you can get two sets of stamps under control. A set connected to the Atlantic for offense, and another set connected to your home for defense, both paired with stamps on location. If everything looks good, attack, if things go south, teleport home. With some patience and practice, you could be the next Alexandria. That’s how strong I think your powers are.”

“...Right,” said Taylor.

Offended her. Will hang up in twenty seconds. Will not contact you again.

The fuck? How? Why?

“Okay, okay, I was just trying to flatter you. Your powers are kind’ve lousy,” Lisa lied brazenly. “They’re inflexible, and if another cape knew their limitations you’d be a C-lister. But Tay, even a C-list power is amazing. You’ve got fucking super powers, don’t just throw them away.”

“Right,” said Taylor.

Assured you are using her. Relieved. No longer suspicious of manipulation.

Taylor, Taylor, Taylor. Oh Taylor. Of course Lisa was going to manipulate her. Try to save her damn life, but Taylor was too damn stupid to realize it. No, that wasn’t fair. Not stupid, just naive. Like Lisa had been, when she’d been caught by Coil.

Ahh… A plan formed in Lisa’s mind.

“You’re going to go to ABB headquarters tonight, aren’t you,” said Lisa. “Nothing I can say to stop you?”

“I’m sorry,” said Taylor. “And if I never see you again, thanks for helping me when I needed it.”

“I get it,” said Lisa. “I’m just ops, you’re the cape. You get final say.  Can you at least tell me where you’re going? Even just a proximate location would help the PRT find ABB headquarters if things go south.”

“...Fine,” said Taylor reluctantly. “By the Docks near the boat graveyard.”

“Got it,” said Lisa. “And Taylor, if the worst comes to pass, I’ll tell your dad what you were trying to do.”

“...Thank you.”

Strange as it was, Taylor actually meant it.

ooOoo

“Keep your elbow pointed at the target,” said Dad, the tennis ball I’d thrown skipped across the road a good five yards to his left. He retrieved the ball, and lobbed it back at me. I struggled not to flinch as it bounced off my glove.

I tried again, this time getting close enough that he actually managed to catch it. Progress. I’d like to be able to throw a little faster, but accuracy was more important. Stealth was my uh, fastball, and direct confrontation was my… um… three pointer? There were three pointers in baseball right? The point was that if I’d been a little more accurate I wouldn’t have had to nearly kill myself jumping off a two-story building. Throwing fast would be nice to have as a backup plan if my sucker punch didn't land and I got spotted, but if I relied on it I’d get my teeth kicked in.

Dad threw the ball back to me.

“I heard on the news that there’s been a seventy percent drop in violent crime since Lung’s disappearance,” I said, throwing the ball back at Dad. He had to jump to catch it, but I was pretty much on line. I was learning relatively quickly, pretty soon I’d be pitching in the national baseball league like Tom Brady. “Nobody’s wearing red or green at school anymore. In class we talked about how if one of the gangs fell, it would lead to a lot of violence, but things are just… copacetic, y’know?”

“Copacetic?” Dad lobbed the ball back to me. “I’m pretty sure you even used it correctly. Your mom really would have loved Lisa.”

I smiled. I’d invited Lisa to my house a couple days after we’d met at Fugly Bob’s, the first person who I’d had over since Emma. Dad had been really impressed with her. Her good-nature made her tendency to try to be the smartest person in the room endearing rather than obnoxious. Mostly. And if he knew her better, knew how hard she’d tried to push me to a safer route, he’d be even more impressed. “Yeah.”

Lisa had raised a lot of good points. Maybe it would be better to just… wait until I’d mastered my powers. Why not?

I threw the ball back at him. He barely had to move his glove. 

“We always talked in class about how making things better would be a lot more complicated than removing Lung or Kaiser,” I said. “How the gangs were in some ways good for Brockton Bay. But now Lung’s gone, and things are getting better already, so it's looking like all those well thought out reasons to let a monster roam the streets were excuses we were telling ourselves to avoid the difficulty of actually doing something about him. Armsmaster should’ve taken Lung out years ago.”

I winced. Dad’s throw had hurt to catch.

“I don’t like it,” said Dad. “How long until he decides that Skidmark should be taken out? Kaiser?”

I threw the ball back at him, finding some extra velocity. “What’s wrong with that? The gangs have been ruining Brockton Bay, you’ve said so yourself. Wouldn’t it be a good thing if they were gone? Maybe it’s a good thing that somebody’s finally taken things into their own hands.”

“Somebody? So you believe the conspiracies,” Dad said. “A part of me hopes they’re true. Armsmaster has always struck me as a decent fellow. I’d never have bought you his underwear if I thought he was the type of fellow to publicly execute people he didn’t like.”

I threw the ball back at him. “Lisa thinks the ABB is planning something. She thinks the Empire called a truce so the ABB could take care of the new cape.”

“Good,” Dad said. “We’ve already got Kaiser. We don’t need another warlord in Brockton Bay.”

It should’ve hurt more. My own father hated me. Thanks to a year-and-a-half of enduring Emma, I just felt numb.

“Maybe,” I said, I lobbed the ball at Dad. “But Lisa doesn’t think the ABB knows who took out Lung, just that it wasn’t Armsmaster. They’re going to go after a lot of innocent capes. Who do you think those capes go to for protection?”

“Let me know if Lisa ever needs a job.” Dad chuckled. “I haven’t even heard anyone say that on the news, but she’s absolutely right. That’s a damn genius way of forming a powerbase. Maybe that’s why the PRT is calling him what they are. Hard to be taken seriously with that name. Still, I wonder what the pitch will be from the new cape this time. Drugs? Prostitution? Sexual slavery? White supremacy?”

“Or maybe just a better Brockton Bay. We haven’t heard anything about the new cape, aside from that stupid name and some dubious reports on her power,” I said. “Maybe she’s not so bad.”

“Kiddo, I love that you’re still so eager to see the good in people after everything you’ve been through, but they killed Lung unprovoked,” said Dad. “Some people are just evil. Whoever they are, however they justify it to themselves, they’re a killer. Nothing more.”

I put a teleportation stamp on the tennis ball, hurled it at Dad as hard as I could, and teleported something small from my bedroom. It hit Dad right in the face.

Dad yelped, and clawed at his face for a moment. Interesting. So if I teleported something at rest onto a moving stamp, the object previously at rest gained the speed of the moving stamp. That’d give me some decent offense if I were forced to abandon my stamp in the Atlantic.

“Taylor,” said Dad. “Did you just throw a mouse at me?”

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

I’d teleported one at him.

“Right, right,” said Dad. “You’re right, I’d have seen it leave your hand. Right, sorry, it just seemed to come out of nowhere, and I’ve never had one jump at my face like that. Can mice have rabies? I’m pretty sure mice can have rabies right?”

“Did it bite you?” I asked. I wasn’t going to force Dad to get a rabies shot. I could feel the mouse scurrying about with my stamp. 

“No,” said Dad, shaking himself. “Just… I didn’t expect it was all. We can keep practicing.”

His next throw skittered on the pavement. I scooped it up and lobbed the ball back at him. “How do you know things were so simple? What if the new cape was justified in killing Lung? What if she did it to protect people?”

“Then why is she hiding?” Dad asked, throwing me a fastball. “Or he. Whoever they are, if Lung was self-defense, or if he was planning something really horrible, why hide what they did? Capes should make themselves accountable to the public.”

“That’s like saying she should join up with the wards,” I said sourly. I threw my ball low, so it bounced against the pavement. “I’ve heard some terrible things about Shadow Stalker and Glory Girl, from people in the know.”

“Friends of Lisa?” Asked Dad, fielding the skipping ball easily.

I nodded. “And Armsmaster took credit for something he didn’t do and has everyone calling m- Calling the new cape some stupid name. He’s just another fraud.”

“I get what you’re saying,” said Dad. “The PRT isn’t perfect. I’m sure some of the protectorate are jerks, maybe even psychopaths. But the protectorate and the wards are still far better than the villains, because they’re held accountable. If they break the law they'll go to trial. They're beholden to the same laws as the rest of us. That’s a tenant of modern civilization. Maybe the cape who took down Lung is a good person, I don’t know the guy. That’s not the point. There’s nobody to hold him accountable.”

Accountability?

Cold fury overtook me.

“As if there ever is,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. The ball stung as it left my fingertips, sliced a little to the left. Easily the fastest I’d thrown all night. “Accountability. Consequences. Maybe it exists for you and me, but it doesn’t if you’ve got enough power. It’s all just a front Dad. They’re just pretending, like the school. If one of our so-called heroes commits a crime, it’ll just get swept under the rug. I understand what you’re getting at, you’re afraid of capes taking over like they did in Africa and Asia, of society going back to feudal rule, with everyone stuck under the thumb of the most dangerous man. We already have. With capes around, there’s no getting around it. It’s trickled down all the way to the bottom. The laws are a joke, and we’re all so busy pretending that they aren’t to actually do anything to fix them.

“The PRT’s peace is a comfortable lie. So long as looking good is more important than doing good, things will only continue to degrade. In your heart of hearts, do you actually believe the current path is the right one?”

“I…” Dad faltered. “It’s still happening isn’t it… I knew something was off, even before… Even after the locker… I couldn’t… I wish I had been strong enough to protect you.”

He seemed smaller. Thinner. Weaker. Hollowed and beaten. He blamed himself for his failure to stop the bullying. It wasn’t his fault. I can honestly say that I’d never blamed him. Emma, Sophia, Madison, their hanger ons, my classmates who did nothing, my teachers, the principal, but never Dad. He’d always been in my corner. Yes he hadn't noticed, but what exactly could he have done if he had? Not a damn thing. His only faults were not having more money and not having the knowledge necessary to file a lawsuit. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. In Brockton Bay, it really fucking mattered. Emma could get away with attempted murder because her dad was a fucking lawyer and could protect her. So yeah, I didn’t exactly think the problem was my dad not being strong enough. I had a big problem with that entire line of thinking.

“Brockton Bay is dying,” I said. “And the PRT can’t save it.”

“Taylor,” said Dad. “I’m glad you’re trying to join the softball team.

ooOoo

I peeked through a window in the warehouse's side. Bakuda had finally started wearing a mask. Not nearly as disturbing as the fully visible brain of an old Korean man lying on an operating table. It was all the proof I needed. This was ABB headquarters. I felt bad that I didn’t have a stamp in the Atlantic already. The sooner I took down Bakuda, the better. Following Lisa’s lead, I’d done some research, went to the library and looked at some old newspapers until I’d found something in the New York Times. Bakuda was a new cape, who’d tried to blow up Cornell after getting an A- on a Final. A tinker with a specialization in bombs, terrorism, and crippling insecurity. I think she may have actually been more insecure than me, which wasn’t a thing I had thought was actually possible. Killing her would obviously cause mass casualties of what were probably innocent people. Not killing her would obviously result in even more innocent deaths. Maybe her killswitch wouldn’t trigger from the bottom of the Atlantic. Here’s to hoping, because my path forward was clear. I had to kill her as soon as possible, before she put more bombs in people’s brai-

A hand gripped my shoulder. I spun. Oni L-

“Found you,” whispered a smiling blonde girl wearing a skintight black and lavender costume. She wore a domino mask, which left her mouth and forehead uncovered. She looked white, so I probably didn’t have to worry about her being a member of the ABB, even if I was talking to an idiot. Seriously, what kind of moron thought a domino mask was sufficient to protect their identity? Any classmate or acquaintance could unmask her. “I’ve been looking for you, Everywhere.”

“Um…” I whispered, uncertainly. “I’m sorry, are you a new ward?”

“I’m Tattletale,” said the girl, her vulpine smile fading just a bit. “A key member of the infamous Undersiders!”

“Um…” I said. Were they a new hero group or something? I couldn’t imagine a villain wearing a costume beyond what I was wearing. Gray nondescript sweater, so loose you couldn’t tell whether I was a boy or girl, a mask that could be bought for ten dollars at Walmart, loose fitting sweats, it was all designed to make it hard to identify me. Someday I hoped to augment it with a bulletproof vest under my sweater, but I didn’t have the money for the purchase, not to mention the near certainty that it would unmask me to any government agency. Tattletale’s outfit just screamed: look at me, which would be really stupid if you were a villain. Not that I was a villain myself or anything, it was just that I’d expect an actual villain to be dressed a lot like me. But then, the supervillains I heard about on the news were stupid, a smart villain would try to operate in the shadows, and strike hard and fast only when circumstances allowed for a sure victory. “Who?”

Tattletale scowled. “We’re a menacing team of supervillains. And we’ve been around for an entire year. C’mon, we robbed a frickin’ casino! It was all over the news!”

Actually, I may have heard about that. It had been in the backpages of the Brockton Inquirer, the third largest newspaper in town. Had the article mentioned that capes had been involved?

“It did mention that capes were involved,” said Tattletale impatiently. “And it also mentioned our group’s name, Undersiders, but only because I let them. The only reason our thefts ever become public is when I choose to let them, for the notoriety. You should actually be more impressed that you haven’t heard of us! Anonymity is a lot harder to pull off, and a lot safer. It’s a skill you could do to learn, Everywhere, being safe.”

She pointed lazily at the ABB Headquarters. “Coming here. Really, spectacularly, incredibly dumb. You got lucky. If Bakuda weren’t so busy preparing for her coming-out-party, you’d be dead. As it is, you’ve given away your powers. They’ll know you’re a teleporter, they’ll know you don’t rely on line-of-sight. They probably won’t figure out your weakness, but they might. I have. Killing you wouldn’t be particularly hard.”

Tattletale waggled a handgun at me. “My powers give me remarkable aim. I could’ve shot you from three-hundred feet easy. Wait for you to get distracted, then shoot. Simple. That’s not how they’ll kill you, but I’m sure that with a little thought you’ll be able to figure out how they plan to do it on your own. I’ve pretty much spelled it out for you.”

I thought about it. Thought back to Lisa’s words. Not all the villain’s in the city were publicly known. Tattletale had gotten far closer to killing me than Lung. She could be quiet. The Undersiders weren’t trying to be famous. That made her far more dangerous than the ABB. If I wanted to save Brockton Bay, I’d have to take care of villains like her.

“No, no,” said Tattletale, holstering her gun. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m a villain, yes, but I’m not a bad guy. My team and I, we commit small-time robberies on large targets that can afford it. That casino we robbed, the money was insured, nobody got hurt. Besides, they were backed by the ABB, they weren’t exactly good people. For a villain like me, the whole thing is like a game of cops-and-robbers. I follow the unwritten rules. The heroes understand that too, and maybe they don’t treat us as harshly as the real monsters like Bakuda here.”

Insurance as an excuse? Get that sophmoric bullshit outta here. The insurance companies wouldn’t take a loss lying down, they’d hike up the rates of every company in the Bay, which would put small businesses in the red. Perhaps Tattletale was telling the truth about only attacking targets which could afford it, I doubt the business owners knew that. If even a large casino with known ABB connections could be robbed, then what hope did a legitimate business without gang connections have? Why, as a business, would you want to stay? Why, as a business, would you ever come here? Robbery was against the law of every known civilization for a reason. The Undersiders and their ilk weren’t as culpable to Brockton Bay’s rot as the ABB, but there was no mistaking that they were a part of it, whatever delusions about unwritten rules Tattletale told herself.

“Oh please,” said Tattletale. “I’m a puppet of a puppet of a master that bows to the alter of utilitarianism. I operate within the designs of a system doing exactly what it’s intended to do. You want to look at the true rot, look into the PRT. Look into Madcap. Look into Shadow Stalker. Look into that, then tell me it’s not all a game.”

That was the third time she’d appeared to read my thoughts. Telepathy was supposed to be impossible, but she clearly had some kind of mental power which gave extreme insight into people. I’d be a fool to seriously consider anything she said.

Tattletale sighed. “Only if we were enemies. The night you took out Lung, we were dealing with Oni Lee. That’s why you didn’t see him. As it stands, we’re on the ABB’s hitlist, same as you. I don’t see why we can’t work together. You’ve probably realized, just talking to me, that taking on a Thinker is almost impossible. We’re not like other capes. A confrontation with us won’t be physical. Most will take you down before you ever even know about them. As it stands, there does in fact happen to be another Thinker supervillain in Brockton Bay, and unlike me he’s fully comfortable remaining anonymous. You want to clean up the city right, take out the major villains? I basically want the same. Become a member of my team. Join the Undersiders.”

“Who is he?” I asked.

“Join us,” said Tattletale. “I mean really join us, and I’ll tell you.”

“You can read my thoughts,” I said. “Manipulate me into any actions. If I were to join you, every decision I thought was my own would be one of yours. And you robbed a casino. I can’t trust your ethics.”

“Last I checked, murder is worse than theft,” snapped Tattletale, irritation clear in her voice. “Are you so sure you can trust your own?”

I could see how Tattletale might leave someone in knots through words alone. As it was, she just reminded me of Emma. My voice became cold.

“Why?” I asked, circling Tattletale. Why shouldn’t I kill her here and now? It would be easy enough. Teleport away her gun, place a stamp on the tennis ball in my pocket, place a stamp on the ground, throw the ball in the air, teleport her up to the ball, let her die from the fall. That would alert the ABB of my presence of course. Bakuda’s costume had armor. Killing her would be harder, especially without a portal in the Atlantic. I still might be able to do it. Letting someone as dangerous and unbalanced as Tattletale walk free seemed out of the question. I believed what she’d said about Thinkers, now that she knew I wasn’t some gullible little puppet, she’d disappear. I’d never find her. Maybe she’d approach me as a civilian, discover my secrets, then leak my identity. It would be easy for her to destroy me, take over the city, and rule from the shadows. It seemed almost inevitable. Unless I killed her, right here and now, and took my chances with the ABB. Oni Lee would kill me, of course- I had no counter for what he could do, but maybe I could take out Bakuda first. If I was able to get Bakuda and Tattletale before Oni Lee got me, it would be well worth my life.

Tattletale shivered. Looked terrified. Glanced briefly at an abandoned building a block away, and shook her head. An act, obviously, designed to throw me off balance. As if a victim like me could scare anyone. “You want a reason? Fine. I’ve got a deadman switch. You’re Taylor Hebert. Your father is Danny Hebert. Kill me, and-” She stopped suddenly, and covered her mouth.

“Say it,” I said coldly, as I continued to circle her. “You’ll have your teammates kill him. Enough games Tattletale, enough pretending you’re any different than the other villains, say it. Say it.”

“You won’t be able to take Bakuda,” said Tattletale, her voice quivering in an obvious ploy to gain my sympathy. I’d seen Emma manipulate a teacher like that once. Pathetic. “She’s armored, and she’s got enough bombs that she’d blow you up, along with half the Docks.”

I frowned. Maybe I’d misjudged her. No, Tattletale had some kind of social power. She’d only retracted her threat because she’d known it would make her look honorable. If she actually had a sense of decency she wouldn’t have leveled it against me in the first place.

“So I’m not allowed to be terrified,” said Tattletale. “Jesus Tay, as a cape you scare the shit out of me. You threatened to kill me, and thanks to my powers I knew you weren’t bluffing. I just blurted out the first thing that I thought might protect me.”

“You could have told me you’d shoot me,” I said, circling her. “Used your power to tell if I was making a stamp. But no, you went straight to threatening my father. You like to hurt people, don’t you?”

“I…” Tattletale hung her head. “Would you believe me if I said that it just didn’t occur to me?”

I wasn’t sure that I could. It seemed so obvious.

Tattletale twitched. “I fight with words. I’m not a dumb thug who takes out her pent up aggression on anyone she deems an acceptable target. You really, really need to get a handle on that Taylor.”

Taylor. An obvious ploy. Use my civilian name, try to get me thinking like a civilian instead of a cape. 

“Fine,” said Tattletale angrily. “I panicked and made a stupid decision. Happy?”

I shook my head. “His name?”

“...” Tattletale hesitated. “Coil… His name is Coil. Coil, Coil, Coil. Fucking Coil. He can make a decision to split a timeline and choose which one he prefers. Forced me to work for him at gunpoint. I’d lost before I ever even knew his name. That’s a Thinker battle for you, but it’s not over, he just got lucky. Took me out before I was ready. Do me a favor and don’t go after him on your own. He’ll kill you, and know that I sent you… He’ll confine me to a room. Get me hooked on hard drugs so I can’t leave. Possibly cut off my feet. Oh and don’t tell the PRT. He’s infiltrated it.”

I nodded. “Your name?”

“No,” said Tattletale. “I’ve told you how to destroy me. We’re square. You’ll get my name after you’ve taken care of Coil. I know you’re not going to kill me. Not now.”

“Not yet,” I whispered, and teleported back home.

I checked on Dad. Nothing had happened to him. Lucky for Tattletale. She got to live for a little while longer.

I sensed her fleeing from my stamp. I took a vicious pleasure in frightening her. She reminded me of Emma. Every good cape needed a nemesis. I think I’d just found mine.

Someday, I’d turn her into a bloody smear. And unlike when I’d killed Lung, I’d fucking enjoy it.

Chapter Text

A/N: Thanks to TwoPence for beta reading. I imagine the first scene will make many of you angry, as I put my own spin on what I consider the single most aggravating scene from canon. It’s pivotal to the story, so I felt I’d be doing a disservice if I just told you to go read 5.04.

ooOoo

Yesterday, Dad and I had run into Emma and her father at the mall, and after good ole oblivious Alan had asked my equally oblivious father whether I was still being bullied, Emma had shot me a smirk of cruel, malicious joy at the fact that she’d never get caught. Naturally I’d punched her in the face, and for one perfect moment she'd had nothing to say. Of course, one of our city’s fine heroes was there to step in. Naturally. Not the hundreds of times I’d been harassed, no, they’d stepped in the second I’d retaliated, and never once asked me for my side of the story. I understood why. When an ugly girl punches a beautiful model, it was pretty clear who the bad guy was. Fuck the PRT, fuck the Wards, I was fucking glad I hadn’t thought I was cool enough to join them. They were as shallow and vapid as all the other cool kids I’d ever met. Armsmaster was representative of their whole garbage institution. Stealing credit for my work, calling me names, he was just like Madison, and Shadow Stalker, she was a Sophia Hess if I’d ever met one. Fuck them both. On the bus ride home I’d admitted to Dad that it had been Emma. She was the bully. He’d called up the principal, who’d arranged a meeting. Naturally she’d had Alan Barnes, the Trio, and the parents responsible for raising such fine upstanding Winslow students in the room with me. Because everyone knows that it’s a good idea to interrogate the victim with all their abusers present. What? No? Are you saying that the school might not have had my best interest in mind? Oh wow Dad, I’d have never considered the possibility that the administration at my beloved school were a bunch of self-serving, two-faced assholes.

Principal Blackwell had asked me for evidence, so I’d given her some evidence. Every single abuse I’d recorded, with dates and times and names.

“I’m not saying she’s making things up,” said Principal Blackwell, dismissing all my accusations as I’d known she would. “But when someone has been victimized like she has, it’s not unusual for them to see harassment when there is none. We want to ensure that Emma, Sophia, and Madison get fair treatment.”

“What about Taylor’s treatment?” Dad asked angrily. “If even one in ten things on those papers is true, it speaks to an ongoing campaign of severe abuse. Does anyone disagree?”

“Abuse is a strong word,” Alan said smoothly. “She’s just overly sensitive after the death of her moth-”

“Don’t go there,” I said. Pinning it all on my dead mother, pinning it all on me. As if it were unreasonable to want some goddamn justice for being stuffed in a locker full of month old tampons. Fuck Alan Barnes. I tried to keep calm, keep my breathing even, but still knocked all my papers off the principal’s desk. As if the locker was some small thing, let’s see how you like being shoved somewhere uncomfortable. The portal in the Atlantic was active. I could send them there. Emma, Sophia, Madison, all the teachers, parents, and administrators going along with minimizing everything that had been done to me. It’d just be a harmless prank right? Maybe you’re just overly sensitive. Have you ever considered, Alan, that it’s actually your fault your daughter’s dead? “Prove that you’re human. Please.”

Emma smirked victoriously for just a moment, before schooling her features into fear and contrition. The practiced face she’d used to manipulate her father and the administration a dozen times before. Great. I’d let her bait me into anger, which made my argument look weak. I’d known she’d try to play me, and I’d still let it fucking happen. Worst part was that even though I knew what she was doing, it just made me angrier, which just made her game work even better. Not that it fucking mattered. She had the school bent over backwards, ready to take whatever bullshit she shoved up their asses. She wasn’t as smart as she thought, she just had a lawyer for a father, and a pathetic administration that was terrified of a lawsuit.

“You promised me you’d look after Taylor after the locker,” said Dad, staring at the teachers, at the principal, starting to tremble. “You obviously haven’t.”

Neither had he. Not paying attention, thinking that the school would do a damn thing. No, no, it wasn’t his fault. I was just angry about how things were going, angry that I’d been right. Winslow was a big pile of shit, and if Bakuda wanted to blow it up, I’d fucking let her. Why couldn’t she have shoved a bomb up Emma’s brain, instead of some Chinese kid who didn’t deserve it?

“I’d have liked to,” said Principal Blackwell. “But this is Winslow. We’ve got fights everyday, kids bringing guns and drugs to school. Neglect that and I haven’t got one girl facing some light harassment, I’ve got a pile of dead students. I can’t be everywhere. If I’m not aware of certain events, it’s hardly intentional.”

“So Taylor’s situation isn’t serious?” Dad asked, his voice starting to rise. Obviously not. We were poor, we didn’t have the right connections. We didn’t matter.

“Do you have to see everything in the worst possible light?” Principal Blackwell snapped. “I’m not trying to offend you, just give you some perspective.”

“Don’t let it get to you Blackwell, a quick temper just runs in their family,” said Alan. Would that little insult go unpunished? Unnoticed? Of course. It always did when it was one of them. “That said, let’s cut to the chase. Not all of us can afford to take time off from work. What would you two like to see happen, here, at this table, that would have you walk away satisfied?”

Satisfied? Activating a stamp on the table, and giving Lung a trio of companions to keep him company, maybe a lawyer and principal too. It’d mean losing the moral high ground, but I was quickly realizing how little that meant to anyone. All that mattered was power.

I stared at Madison. Sophia. Emma. Madison ran from my glare, Sophia met it with one her own. Emma didn’t deign to return it, she checked her perfectly manicured nails, her designer watch which cost more than Dad made in a month. Fuck I hated her. Worst thing was that she was gorgeous. She wouldn’t make it as a model, she’d never be able to hold a job, but she’d be able to marry into wealth. She’d always have some gullible dufus to cover her ass. Her actions would never catch up to her.

“I’d want those three to have in-school suspensions for the remaining two months of the semester,” I said. “No privileges either.  They wouldn’t be allowed dances, access to school events, computers, or a spot on teams or clubs.”

A suspension would just be a reward to them.

“Sophia’s one of our best runners in Track and Field,” said Principal Blackwell. “It’s important that she keep attending. I’ve heard the structure is good for her.”

“I really, really don’t care,” I said. I didn’t. Why the fuck would Principal Blackwell possibly think I gave a single fuck about Sophia Hess’s wellbeing. She’d probably been the one to shove me into the locker, physical assault had always been her style.

“We don’t have the staff to keep watch over them,” said Principal Blackwell. “Nor the funding for it. It’s not feasible.”

“Would I have to take summer school?” Asked Madison fearfully.

“There would be remedial classes if we took that route, yes,” Principal Blackwell said. “It’s a little too severe. Why not a suspension instead?”

Severe? Okay, principal, how ‘bout I shove you into a locker with month old tampons and let you wallow in it for a few hours. Then let’s see how much of a shit you give about me. Oh, and also, why don’t I piss all over your dead mother’s grave, maybe destroy a keepsake or two, and tell you to quit your job and go be a whore for the merchants? 

“Suspension’s a vacation,” I said. “I’d rather they got no punishment than that.”

“Sounds like a good option to me,” Alan quipped. “Because as far as I can tell, your list would only mean something if you could back any of it up with evidence.” He smirked and glanced down. “And if it wasn’t all over the floor.”

He must've thought he was being a white knight, a good father, doing his duty to protect his daughter. He wasn't. He was an ass. I’d figured as much. Emma had to get it from somewhere.

“I think two months is too much,” said Madison’s dad weakly.

“I’m forced to agree on all counts,” said the principal. Of course she did. “But evidence or no, I’ve got enough experience to know guilt when I see it. Two weeks suspension. Any more and their schoolwork will suffer. I don’t think that’s fair.”

That almost made it worse. If you were gonna screw me; screw me. This half assed attempt to be impartial was just insulting.

“And mine hasn’t?” I asked.

“Eye-for-an-eye justice doesn’t do anyone any favors,” said the principal. Strange how some people mistook cowardice for compassion.

“Is there any justice here?” I asked, giggling. “I’m not seeing any.”

“They’re being punished for their misconduct.”

Were they? Because all I saw was an administrator covering her own ass. I put a stamp on the principal’s table. There. Justice. It would be easy. So easy.

“Whatever,” I said. “I knew you wouldn’t punish them. Maybe if their parents have an ounce of heart or responsibility, they’ll find an appropriate punishment. I wouldn’t bet a penny on it.” I gave the Trio’s folks a dismissive glance. “If any of you had any clue how to be parents, your daughters wouldn’t have become complete monsters in the first place, but whatever. I don’t care. Just transfer me to Arcadia.”

“That’s not really something I can do,” the principal said, “There’s jurisdictions-”

“Try,” I said.

“I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep,” she said.

Which meant no. Time to go. Before I did something I probably wouldn’t actually regret.

“We’re not the enemy,” said the principal.

“You’ve already fucked me, why bother pretending to be impartial now?” I laughed bitterly, and my anger cooled. “You haven’t called me by my name once. You’ve dehumanized me from the start, because you knew what you were gonna do. Can’t risk a lawsuit, not when one of the accused has a daddy that's a lawyer. You’ve made it far, you know the game. You don’t keep power by being a decent person, you keep it by kissing the ass's of anyone who can take it from you. Me and Dad, we can’t do shit to you, so your job is to politely tell us to fuck off. I suppose, in this day-and-age, that makes you a ‘good’ principal. I just hope that someday you realize that Brockton Bay isn’t dying because of the ABB or the Empire, they’re just symptoms, it’s dying because of self-serving, slimy, pieces of sh-”

“Taylor!” Dad pulled on my arm, “Stop!”

“Do I need to call the cops?” Asked Alan lightly. “Reowr.”

“Fuck off,” said Dad. “Taylor’s right. This has been a joke. I have a friend in the media, I think I’ll be giving her a call.”

“I’d advise against that,” Alan said. “Your daughter assaulted Emma last night. We could press charges, and unlike you I have actual evidence. Surveillance video, and written testimony from the superheroine Shadow Stalker.”

Evidence. What a joke. I was ugly. Emma was beautiful. I was poor. Emma was rich. I had no friends. Emma was one of the most popular girls in school. Bring us to court, who’s gonna be able to convince people to talk in their favor, who’s gonna have the money for a sustained legal battle, who were they gonna be predisposed to agree with? Alan Barnes could play the system all he liked. Win through the courts and pretend it was justice. I suppose it would be, he’d have the power of the state on his side. Not gonna lie; all the Empire and ABB radicals who wanted to burn it all down didn’t sound so crazy right now. Dad tried to argue with him. I wish he wouldn’t. It just made him look like a naive fool, who thought the school system, the legal system, had been designed for fantasies like justice, and not just to preserve the interests of those in power. I wish Dad would wake the fuck up, realize it was all a big joke, and suckers like us were the punchline.

I’d had enough. I left. Any more of this shit, and I really would murder them all. Dad ran after me.

“Taylor,” said Dad. “I want you to know I love you. I know this didn’t go how you wanted, but I’ve had worse days at the negotiating table. Life isn’t fair, but you can’t stop fighting, can’t give up on doing what’s right. This isn’t over, and I’ll be waiting for you when you come home. Don’t give up, and don’t do anything reckless.”

“Goodbye Dad. I love you too.”

I left. I ran. Ran until I couldn’t run anymore. 

I was done. I was so done. If I couldn’t be transferred, if the Trio weren’t going to be punished, I was dropping out. Emma would keep pushing, and I’d snap, use my powers against her. Maybe it would start small, maybe I wouldn’t kill her at first, but once I started I’d never stop. I’d killed Lung and felt nothing, but threatening Tattletale had felt cathartic, and I knew why. Tattletale reminded me of Emma, and Lung did not, even though he was objectively more dangerous, more evil than a petty thief who’d shown no inclination towards violence. Actually hurting Emma, rather than a proxy, that’d be a thousand times more euphoric than heroin, and a thousand times more dangerous too. If I gave in to temptation, used my power to kill Emma, it’d give me a rush like nothing else. I’d chase that high, I’d kill Sophia and Madison. And then I’d move onto Alan, to Principal Blackwell, to Mr Gladly, and all the rest who’d bullied me when I’d been weak. If I gave in to the resentment in my heart, I would become a monster, as bad as Kaiser or Bakuda, maybe worse.

I could never be a conventional hero. Not anymore. Maybe I could’ve before Mom had died, before Emma had turned on me, before those who were supposed to protect me left me to rot, but not now. I had a monster inside me, eating the sweet little girl I’d once been and replacing her with someone callous and ruthless. I didn’t believe in empathy. I didn’t believe in redemption. I didn’t believe in the PRT, the schools, or the courts.

I believed in evil. I believed in malice. I believed in fear. I believed in violence and death. 

People didn’t need help. They didn’t need a hero to save them. They just needed the evil fuckers who hurt them to disappear. That was it. That was all. 

Tonight I was going to take down Bakuda, Oni Lee, and the rest of the ABB. Honestly, I should’ve attacked on the night I’d met Tattletale. It wouldn’t have been smart. Setting up the Atlantic Portal made me a lot more dangerous, and increased the chances of operational success. Still, every moment I waited gave Bakuda more time to implant bombs in people’s heads, increasing the number of expected casualties. Lisa and Tattletale had both warned me against recycling battleplans, but I couldn’t see a better way to stop them. Tattletale was probably just fucking with me. Lisa was just worried about losing her only connection with a cape.

Still, Lisa was the closest thing I had to a friend. The only person besides my dad who I actually thought was a good person. She was what made Brockton Bay worth saving. I owed her a call. I found the nearest pay phone and dialed her up.

“Don’t do this,” said Lisa. “You can’t use the same trick twice, not if it can be easily countered. I haven’t met Bakuda, but I can guess what she has planned for you. Don’t go. If you do, your plan is going to blow up in your face.”

“If I die,” I said. “I die.”

“I’d miss you,” said Lisa. “Your dad would miss you. From what I’ve seen he’s clueless, but he’s not as bad as I thought. However poorly he shows it, he really does care. I should unmask you. You’ll hate me, but it’s better than letting you go and commit suicide.”

“I’ll still go,” I said. “I’d still refuse to join the PRT. They’re useless. All unmasking me would do is ruin my life, but it won’t change my path. Nothing you do or say can.”

A meaningful death didn’t scare me, a meaningless life did.

“Fine,” Lisa said tightly. “Not like I can ever convince you of anything. But if you notice anything off, bail. Abandon the stamp in the Atlantic, and run as fast as you can.”

“Thanks Lisa,” I said. “I’ll be careful.”

But I wouldn’t run. Someone was dying tonight. Maybe Bakuda. Maybe Oni Lee. Probably me. I was fine with that.

“Don’t thank me,” Lisa said. “Learn.”

It wasn’t a short walk to ABB headquarters, it took me about 90 minutes to jog there, which was good. Let me box up all my frustrations about school, and push them out of my mind. I needed to be calm, logical, observant during my mission. This operation was more important than my personal life.

The Docks were oddly vacant. There were none of the men or women prowling the streets that I remembered from my last jaunt to Bad Boy territory. Not a good sign. How many people had Bakuda implanted?

Their headquarters were now located in a big warehouse between the Docks and the Boat Graveyard. An empty parking lot surrounded the warehouse. Normally, that would make it harder to approach the headquarters, but with my stampsense, I could tell that the parking lot was empty and nobody was near the windows. I snuck closer, planted a stamp near the front door, hid behind a corner, and waited. And waited. None of the people inside made to leave.

With some hesitance, I checked a window. Good. Bakuda was inside. Jackpot, so was a man wearing a demon mask. Oni Lee. As were about fifteen ABB members, huddling together. Perfect. I just had to wait for them to leave, get close to my stamp, and I’d be able to teleport them both to the bottom of the Atlantic before they even realized they were under attack. Dealing with the goons…

The goons?

I kneaded my hands together. Something was wrong. Something was off. Maybe it was the fact that everything was going so well? No, no, I’d only ever been on two missions before. It wasn’t like I was some expert, maybe on most of my hitjobs everything would go smoothly.

Still though, something was off. Something I’d overlooked in planning? I got out a tennis ball. It was possible that they’d leave using a different door. It would certainly make things harder, but I’d be able to sense their new route, throw the ball, and take out Bakuda and Oni Lee before they could react. Nothing I couldn’t counteract.

What was I overlooking? Maybe I was just nervous? Probably. No. No, I’d learned to trust my gut in these situations. I risked another peak into the warehouse. Okay, definitely Bakuda and Oni Lee, or at least their costumes. Could be body doubles. Actually, it didn’t really seem like they were doing anything. Like they were waiting. Waiting for what?

Something was definitely off. Maybe I was panicking? No, no, think, think, what’s wrong? The goons…

Were evenly split, male and female. Between children and the elderly. No adult men though, which was- fuck they were crying, crying like they knew they were going to die, like they were bait in a fucking tr-

Shit!

I put a stamp on my tennis ball and flung it with all my might, noticing the dark gleam of a security camera too late. 

The warehouse exploded.

I felt pressure and heat just as I teleported from the blast. I reappeared farther away, decreasing the impact of the explosion. It still caused me to tumble, roll, slam into a nearby building. Vision swam. Skin burning. Coughing.

Warehouse crumbling. Half caved in. Overturned cement. Smoke. Fire.

I collapsed onto the pavement. Couldn’t hold myself up any longer. Couldn’t feel my legs. Felt a sudden pressure on small of my back. Oni Lee.

Teleported back to original stamp near front door. Cement still too hot from explosion. Burned skin. Tried to crawl. Hands and forearm red and blistered. Severe burns.

A low moan left my throat.

Oni Lee pinned me again.

Teleported back to ball. Couldn’t escape Oni Lee. Fucking teleporters, what a broken bullshit power. Teleported back, but Oni Lee followed again. Fucking unfair that he had such a great power. Tried something new. Teleported Oni Lee above the tennis ball stamp as much as possible. Ten feet. Nonfatal fall but would still hurt. Oni Lee teleported back on top of me. Right. Teleporter. Fuck. 

“So,” said Bakuda casually, her white metal boots about thirty feet from me. Well out of my range. “You’re the cape who killed Lung. A teleporter who doesn’t rely on line-of-sight. You rely on ports, right? Like fast travel points in a videogame? One is obviously that tennis ball, the other is the pavement by the door.”

I heard Oni Lee unsheath a knife.

“Not yet,” said Bakuda quickly. “Soon. I owe it to her to tell her how she was outwitted. She handed me the ABB afterall. First she kills Lung for me, then she’s stupid enough to use the same plan twice, as if we were incapable of planning ahead. Did you know about me? Should’ve looked into my grades. Should’ve known I’d make precautions. And here I was worried. Saw you chatting with Tattletale, trying to get her on your side. Luckily for her, she turned you down. Unluckily for you. I can’t imagine she’d be so retarded as to just stroll up to the front door of a known genius bomb tinker.”

I groaned.

“Don’t interrupt,” said Bakuda sharply. “When I speak, you lend me your ear.”

Oni Lee acted immediately. A cold sharp cut across my right ear. Wet tearing. I hissed out in pain, but the horror was worse. He’d taken my ear. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I was going to die. Oh fuck, I was going to die.

“You made us look weak.” I could hear the smile in Bakuda’s sadistic voice. “Kaiser sent us a fucking message. Not personally of course, couldn’t deign to parley with a subhuman personally, sent a green, little cape in his stead. He’d give us a month to track you down, kill you, and retreat. Then he’d annex our territory. Such a magnanimous nazi. A prize for a prize, I say. I think I’ll send him a present. Not your head, that’ll be placed above my mantle, but maybe a thumb… No, no, can’t let my emotions get in the way. I’ll send your thumb to Armsmaster. He stole credit. He ought to know the consequences if he’d actually done what he’d said he’d done.”

“For Lung,” Oni Lee said and grabbed my left hand, forced it flat against concrete. Tried to teleport. Couldn’t. Hurt too much. My fingers were pried open. Tried to fight him off. Too strong. His knife found my thumb. Cut through skin and muscle, stopped suddenly on bone.

I screamed.

“A finger isn’t a piece of bread,” Bakuda lectured. “You don't saw it off. Strike with force. You’re making us look incompetent Oni Lee. It can be edited out in post, but a keen eye will see the wound on her finger.”

As if he hadn't mangled my finger on purpose. I managed to look up.

“Of course you have two thumbs.” Bakuda was holding a home recorder. “Switch to her right, and do it cleanly this time.”

I tried to curl up. Oni Lee was stronger, but adrenaline and fear gave me second wind. I tried teleporting a few more times. Unfortunately, I didn’t grow my ear back, nor escape. In less than a minute, Oni Lee had me pinned.

“Let me tell you a secret, little white girl,” said Bakuda. “I don’t hate you. I hated Lung just as you did. It was obvious why anyone would want to kill him. Most didn’t try, out of fear. That’s what I learned from him. Fear is what really controls people. You know who Asians really hate? Not Blacks, not Whites, other Asians. Fear of him brought us together. Fear is what made the ABB. Lung understood this instinctually. I understand it intellectually, and I’m going to take us to the next level. Offing you is just the beginning. When I’m through with this quaint little shitstain of a town, nobody will ever forget the name, Bak-”

A giant, bony dog-like creature kicked her into a nearby building.

I was forcibly thrown seven feet when another mutant dog tore Oni Lee off me, and ragdolled him with a shake of its giant head. Oni Lee vanished in a puff of dust, reappeared on top of the dog, and unpinned a grenade. I teleported both the grenade and clone away, and darkness overtook me.

I mean literal darkness. And silence. I felt somebody pull me up onto one of the giant creatures, and let my consciousness fade away.

The first sensation to return was pain. I had burns all along my back, shredded muscles and ligaments in my thumb, but all those were inconsequential compared to the pain in my ear. My ear which no longer existed. Fuck. I was such a fucking joke.

I forced my eyes open.

“Hmm…” Tattletale said, rubbing her chin. “I forget… Did I, or did I not directly and clearly tell you to avoid ABB Headquarters? Hmm…”

She had. Clearly and numerously. So had Lisa. Multiple times. Because she’d thought there would be a trap.

Perfect. Now I was ashamed as well as hurt. Not even Emma could tear me down so effic-

“Thanks for saving me,” I said. So Tattletale shamed me? I deserved it. I was in her debt, and I’d do my best to repay her, but there were some lines that were bigger than me and my personal sense of honor. “I’m still not joining your team.”

I didn’t even have the strength to sit up on the dirty couch they'd laid me on. They’d bandaged up my wounds, probably cleaned them too. I didn’t recall wearing a shirt quite so pink, which was tight everywhere except the chest. I tried to plan an escape in case they wouldn’t take no for an answer. First who I’d be escaping from.

Besides Tattletale, there were three other supervillains lounging about the room. There was no rhyme or reason to their uniforms, with a large butch girl wearing the only one I found remotely acceptable. Normal clothes and a cheap dog mask. One villain was dressed in black leathers and wore a skull mask. A ridiculous costume, covering what should have been an absolute specimen of a body. The other boy wore an outfit that would have maybe been fashionable in 1500’s Italy, but just made him like a nerdy drama kid in Brockton Bay. As ridiculous as I found them, I wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating them. They’d fared far better against Bakuda than I had.

Fuck my ear hurt. And my thumb. And my back. And my right arm, now that I thought about it. Oh, it had a big scrape on it. When had that happened?

“So,” said Tattletale. “You’ve still got cold feet about joining? I know you don’t approve of theft, but I’ve talked it over with bossman, and you wouldn’t have to be a part of it. We’ve got orders to rob Brockton Bay Central Bank in a few days. I’m not going to ask you to be a part of that. We’d only work together when our goals aligned.”

“The fuck,” said the butch girl. “You never asked me if she could join. You don’t get to decide on your own. Fuck that!”

“Bitch,” said Tattletale, “I don’t need your vote. I’ve already got Grue and Regent on board.”

She nodded at the wannabe edge lord and the wannabe renaissance man respectively.

Bitch growled. “Fuck you. Shoulda’ fucking told me. Knew I shouldn’t have trusted you. Fucking talkers.”

“And we’re not robbing Brockton Bay Central Bank,” said Grue. “Stupid. The wards are gonna show up, you admitted as much. Why in the world would we willingly agree to that?”

“Hate to side with stick-in-the-mud over a blonde babe who’s almost as smart as Faultline,” said Regent. “But he’s right.”

“You agreed,” said Tattletale, an edge of worry in her voice.

“I agreed to think about it,” said Grue. “I’ve thought about it. The protectorate may be out of town, but we’ll still have to contend with the wards. It’s too risky. No.”

“Just three,” said Tattletale desperately. “Four tops.”

“Just three?” Asked Grue sarcastically. “Are you insane? What kind of overconfident moron knowingly picks a fight with another cape? The answer is no.”

Bitch was furious. “You don’t get to deci-”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, cutting off the supposed argument. I suspected it was a ploy from Tattletale, to try to convince me that her ability to manipulate wasn’t as great as I suspected. Grue and Regent were just playing roles, how did I know their supposed resistance wasn’t something they’d planned from the start? How did I know the job on the Brockton Bay Central Bank was even real? And that desperation from Tattletale, probably just to make the supposed Coil character she’d mentioned more believable. The lighthearted atmosphere? That was to target my loneliness, there’s no way Tattletale hadn’t uncovered that obvious weakness. “I’m not joining.”

Bitch stared at me. “Fuck you.”

Maybe it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

My stamps near ABB headquarters were still active, and I sensed nobody around them. I could reapply one of the stamps to the couch, and teleport aw-

Stupid. No. Bakuda had some notion of my powers. She may have left a sniper just out of my range. Better, she’d probably just left a few bombs and a security camera. If I went back, Bakuda was sure to greet me with an explosion. No, it would be idiotic to ever use those stamps again. Instead I’d put a stamp on a projectile. The table near me had some empty soda cans. I could reach out and apply a stamp to one of the cans, and maybe throw it near the door and make a run for it.

My everything protested at the thought. Yeah I was way too tired and too hurt to get into a chase.

“Speaking of overconfident morons,” said Tattletale smugly. “I told you not to go to ABB headquarters. You ignored me, got yourself blown up, so I had to come and save you. Bakuda got us on videotape punting her into a building, treating Oni Lee like a chewtoy, and oh yeah- saving your ungrateful ass. So now I’ve got a target on my back, on all my friends’ backs, all to save you.”

I squirmed, which set my back on fire as my burns rubbed against the couch. Fucking Tattletale. She was right, and now I felt guilty. Dammit I hated dealing with her. Just a few days ago I’d been so deadset against joining the Undersiders, and now I could feel her starting to sway me. I knew she was manipulating me, playing me like a fiddle like Emma always tried to, but what was I supposed to do? The fact of the matter was that she had warned me against going to ABB headquarters, she had strongly hinted it would be rigged with explosives, and then bailed me out when I’d ignored her. She was right, I did owe her. She was also right, we both needed to stop the ABB, and it would be pragmatic to form a temporary alliance. Afterall, treating her like an enemy had almost gotten me killed. 

On the otherhand, fuck Tattletale. 

I really, really wanted to rationalize that she’d known I wouldn’t trust her, and had given me good advice knowing that I’d ignore it. It would be so easy to treat her like some Simurgh-lite, blame her for every bad thing that happened to me. Unfortunately, I’d come to hate self-delusional assholes. I could admit the truth. I hated Tattletale because she reminded me of Emma rather than any objective reason. Logically, I knew eventually I’d have to start trusting people again.

On the otherhand, fuck Tattletale. It didn’t have to be her.

“The Undersiders have full medical. Our boss has connections with surgeons,” said Grue. He held up a red party cup full of ice and my ear. “And if you join us we could have them reattach your ear.”

“And maybe give you a boobjob while they’re at it,” said Regent, no doubt smirking behind his mask. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t like it.”

Grue punched him in the arm. 

Much as I would like to deny it, I was tempted. I couldn’t explain losing an ear to Dad. Maybe I could cover up the burns on my back and legs, but he’d notice a missing ear. Of course, even if it was reattached, he’d notice. Not to mention vanity. I knew I was ugly, but that didn’t mean I wanted to make myself even more repulsive. I didn’t want to look like a freak, not to my dad, not to Lisa, and not to her hot friend Brian.

Also I hurt all over. A lot. My ear. My thumb. My back. Pretty much anywhere, if I made the mistake of focusing on it. Prescription painkillers. They were tempting too.

“You may not have to unmask yourself,” said Tattletale. “In a day or two the ear might be explainable. If Bakuda goes on a rampage, it’d be believable that you just happened to be close to one of her bombs at the wrong time.”

I perked up, how fucked up was that? Pretty bad, but pretty normal, I’d bet. Sure Bakuda blowing up the Bay would kill a lot of people, but if she didn’t, then I’d have to explain that I was a cape to my dad and that would be kind of awkward. So yeah, other people’s lives, or a slight inconvenience to my own, I knew which I cared more about. Afterall, they were other people, and I was me , so obviously I’d pick me. Was this how people got into villainy? Selfishness?

I had to be better than that. I had to have principles. I wasn’t going to become a villain, even in name only, just for the sake of convenience or vanity or even out of gratitude.

“I’ve almost got you my pretty,” said Tattletale, winking at me. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Brockton Bay. Bakuda knows you’re a teleporter, they know that you’re capable of tracking them, and they probably have a good idea how. You try and teleport into their base, and they’ll just explode you again. If you want to stop the ABB, you’re going to need our help.”

I tried to find a fault in her logic. Couldn’t. Bakuda knew how my powers worked, and had already demonstrated that she could counter them. I’d have to think of a new approach against an enemy with more resources and capes. But Bakuda was smart too, and there was little to suggest that whatever I came up with would work. The best path to defeating the ABB was joining the Undersiders.

Tattletale’s smirk reminded me of Emma. If that bitch were a cape, she’d have powers like Tattletale. Able to worm her way into my head, make me agree to whatever she wanted.

Become a villain and defeat the ABB. Or refuse, and stand by my rigid ethics.

I wish it was a hard decision. I wish I had the black-and-white worldview which would allow me to be an uncompromising ass. But I’d seen those asian children having bombs put in their brains. It wasn’t about me and my grudge with Tattletale, it wasn’t about being a hero, it was about making Brockton Bay just a little bit less shitty by standing up for the refugees when nobody else ever seemed to care.

“Fine,” I said sourly, taking my slippery first step towards the slope of villainy. “I’ll join. But only until we’ve gotten rid of the ABB.”

“Oh fuck yes!” Tattletale started sprinting around the room, pumping her fists, high-fiving her teammates. “Hell. The fuck. Yes.”

“We got her.” Grue and Regent quietly bumped fists, as if some C-lister agreeing to work with them actually mattered. I supposed I’d be good for quick escapes. “We actually got her.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Said Tattletale, twirling. “We did it, we actually did it! She said yes! She fucking said yes! Oh my god, we got Everywhere! We just got Everywhere! Finally, we’ve got our middle of the order heavy hitter, our leading lady, our once-in-a-generation prodigy. We just signed the next Alexandria, you do realize that right?”

Who the fuck was Everywhere? Wait, was that supposed to be me? What a stupid fucking name. Maybe I really would go by the mockery of a moniker Armsmaster had given me.

“If you say so,” said Regent.

“She’ll be a valuable asset,” said Grue.

“I cannot believe Armsmaster fell for my smokescreen,” Tattletale said, shaking her head, her arms extended in a what-can-you-do pose. “Everyone but me is dumb! I’m the smartest person alive! I cannot believe I just pulled this off! This one is gonna go down in the history books! Now we can go cape for cape against anyone! Ladies and gentlemen, our days in the back pages are over. Get your popcorn ready, because the Undersiders are about to tear up the big leagues! Azn Bad Boys, you’ve already lost! Empire 88, get the fuck outta here! Travelers, your princess is in another castle! Palanquin, you just don’t have the horses to compete anymore! And Coil- Coil, Coil, Coil. You’re gonna wish we’d never met! Never shoulda let me get my hands on a cape like this…”

Tattletale continued to mock me. Regent and Grue cruelly played along. Bitch, strangely enough, seemed a bit kinder. Not on my side, but she just seemed confused by the bullying. Typical. I finally decide to be a part of something, and the first thing they do is make fun of me. I now understood their excitement. I’d probably be a nice cape to have, but it had been about power. Tattletale had set out to corrupt me, and she’d cut through my resistances like a hot knife through an ear. Fuck, now I felt humiliated and my ear hurt. She was just celebrating herself, her power over me, like Emma had when she’d broken Mom’s flute.

But I was a cape now, I didn’t just have to sit here and take it. Probably.

“Enough,” I said quietly.

Surprisingly, Tattletale shut up immediately.

“Are decisions made by majority?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Grue. “Although on a mission, I take the lead. When things get hot, you do what I say.”

“Right,” I said. No matter their mockery I needed their help. I was making the right decision. The important thing was not to be corrupted. If I wasn’t careful, the Undersiders might rub their evil ways off on me, but perhaps I could in turn show them what it meant to be truly good. “Then I agree with Tattletale and Bitch. We should rob the Brockton Bay Central Bank.”

I know that that’s what a supervillain would say, but I promise I had a good reason for it. Trust me. I explained my plan to the rest of my team, highlighting the operational objectives which made it ethically justifiable. Indeed, I had no other choice if I wanted to minimize casualties.

“Damn,” said Grue.

“Damn,” said Bitch.

“Damn,” said Tattletale.

“Damn,” said Regent. “I’ve seen a lot of villains, but…”

“We’ve all done our best to learn the trade,” said Tattletale. “But the best are just born with it.”

Wait, were they saying my plan was evil? More mockery I’m sure. Anything to make me uncomfortable. However, nothing about my plan was remotely villainous. Perhaps the means were a bit underhanded, but what was important was the outcome, and if my plan succeeded it would help Brockton Bay more in one afternoon than a decade of PRT guidance. Results were what I cared about, more than some dogmatic adherence to what others deemed acceptable. I was just doing what needed doing.

Chapter Text

“Get on the ground. Hands on your head. Don’t even try going for the phone,” I warned the hostages, touching the linoleum floor of the Brockton Bay Central Bank and opening up a portal to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. A geyser of salt water ripped through ceiling tiles like paper mache, splattering against the true concrete ceiling that made the base of the second floor. I closed up the portal and opened a few new ones, until half the bank was raining salt water and papery plastic. “Or I’ll do to you what I did to Lung.”

I rubbed my right ear anxiously. True to her word, Tattletale had gotten a surgeon to reattach it for me. It had left obvious scars, but my long hair had helped cover it up when I’d met Dad. Fortunately, I’d been able to talk Lisa into covering for me while I recovered. She hadn’t been happy about it, but she’d agreed, and thus Dad thought I'd been spending time with Lisa when I'd been getting my ear reattached. Lisa had never asked, but I knew she’d wondered how I’d gotten hold of a surgeon. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d teamed up with supervillains. I didn’t trust her not to betray me. Unlike with Emma, I’d have brought it on myself. I’d seemingly gone villain, even if it was only because it was the most pragmatic way to achieve my goals. The fact that I’d hidden it from the person who was rapidly becoming my best friend was probably proof that my decision wasn’t as ethically sound as I’d justified to myself.

Alec’s words rang through my ear: every villain rationalized their actions. Was that what I was doing? No. I only doubted myself because of conventional wisdom, a value system which had enabled violent psychopaths to rule my home. Everything I did, I did for the good of Brockton Bay.

“On the ground,” I said coldly. A mousy girl with frizzy brown hair glared at me hatefully. Refusing. A power struggle. If I didn’t kill her the other hostages would think I was weak. They’d rush me, ruin my plan. Why did everything always have to be so fucking hard? I opened up a pin-sized portal under her left foot. She screamed and fell to the floor, blood gushing from her foot. It made me feel terrible, a feeling most heroes tried to avoid, but a conscience was an indulgence I could not afford. “A shame you made me do that, but you knew the consequences of defiance. It is not my wish to harm you. Unfortunately, that was my last warning. Death next.”

With the hostages subjegated, Tattletale, Grue, Bitch, and I advanced to the vault with two of Bitch’s dogs. I patted Regent’s shoulder as he and Bitch’s smallest dog split away to guard the door.

Tattletale fiddled with a large steel wheel in the front of the vault. It would be better if she succeeded, but I doubted it would matter either way. Still, money was better than no money. And right on schedule, the vault clicked open. Tattletale whistled her way to the bank manager’s computer, switched it on, and spun around casually in the chair, as if robbing a bank was no big deal. I stared in fascination. I’d never seen a computer before. They’d stopped being manufactured after Simurgh had decimated the tech industry in 2002, although production had been slowing for over a decade before that. It was rumored that the PRT had access to even more advanced computers than the business sector, but I wasn't sure I believed it. 

“Everywhere, we’ve got a job to do,” said Grue gently.

Right. I helped him and Bitch haul open the vault. We secured a large harness around Brutus, filled up bags with stacks of bills, and secured them onto Brutus. Grue pulled a crowbar from the darkness surrounding his body and set to work prying open more cabinets. Once we’d filled seven bags, Brutus whined at the weight.

“That’s enough,” said Bitch reluctantly. “He’s at his limit. Won’t be able to move if we add any more.”

I grunted in agreement. The plan relied on deception. We secured a strap on Judas, as Tattletale impatiently waited for the computer to boot up. It was screeching in protest.

“Damn fifteen year old piece of junk,” Tattletale complained bitterly. “Hurry the fuck up. Oh finally, I’ve got work to do.” A rain of clicks filled the bank, as Tattletale typed.

We continued to empty the bank of cash. After we’d filled about three bags, Grue clipped on another one, filled with the contents of the first drawer he had opened. According to Tattletale’s briefing, the drawers would hold deeds, liens, insurance forms, mortgages, and loan information. Apparently, Coil was willing to buy these from us. Tattletale had told the team that our employer planned to ransom them back to the bank. Privately she’d confided that they were probably for blackmail. Slimy, but I was still somewhat skeptical whether Coil was even real. It would be just like Tattletale to fabricate some enemy to manipulate me. It didn’t really matter in the end, once I’d finished with the ABB we were through. Speaking of which, it looked like the plan was finally starting in earnest.

“The wards are here,” I said, sensing them through the stamp I’d set on Regent's coat. “Six of them across the street. One on the roof. I think they’ve got an extra cape with them. When Regent saw them he ran for it. He’s not moving. I think they sprayed him with containment foam.” Tattletale had briefed us on the possibility before the mission.

“Time to go,” said Grue.

“No,” I said firmly. “You two stay and finish loading the money. I’ll hold them off. As we planned.”

Okay, I know it sounded like I was secretly trying to get captured after getting in too deep, but that really wasn’t the case. Strange as it sounded for a C-list villain like me, I actually had a pretty good matchup against the wards. Shadow Stalker would chase Grue once she realized he was here, which would leave Gallant and Kid Win as the only two Wards with ranged attacks. If I could outdraw them and take them out, the rest of the wards surprisingly wouldn’t have any answers for my mediocre powers. I had my teleportation sense within 200 feet of a stamp, which ensured I wouldn’t miss with a portal-made geyser. If police showed up, I could teleport away their guns as long as they were within 100 feet of an active stamp, and if Aegis or Clockblocker got within ten feet of me I could just teleport them away. I had this in the bag. Totally.

Maybe. Okay probably not, a weak villain like me trying to solo the wards was stupid, even if it seemed reasonable from a close inspection. We’d probably overlooked something, and I’d lose like I always did. Lung had been a fluke, getting wrecked by Bakuda was probably normal, but unless the wards broke from their standard behavior I’d just be captured and sent to jail. And as long as they didn’t realize I was a teleporter, I could escape easily.

“Stupid plan,” said Grue bitterly. “We should run.”

I yanked his skull mask so we were making eye contact. “Worried about risk? Stay here and you risk capture. Abandon the plan and you risk death. Which seems riskier to you?”

“I’ll go with you then,” said Grue, gently pushing himself out of my grasp. “Bitch can finish loading on her own.”

“Let me go.” Bitch snarled. “I could take ‘em. If you’d just let me go all out.”

“No killing,” Tattletale snarled. “I’m not fighting a war with the PRT. You kill a ward, I’m not going down with you. I’ll join them, and hunt you down as an apology. And trust me, you do not want me as an enemy.”

“Is that a threat?” Bitch growled.

“No killing,” I said. “Bitch, you’re with me, but no maiming or killing. Save that for Bakuda and Oni Lee. Grue, we’re not trying to run. Your powers won’t be that useful in a fight. Finish loading the money.”

I walked to the front entrance of the bank. Bitch by my side with her smallest dog, Angelica.

Six capes were waiting for us on the other side of the street. Five wards I recognized and had been debriefed on: Aegis, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Gallant, and Vista. The unfamiliar cape looked like a bodybuilder.

“Do you know who that is?” I asked, pointing at the muscleman.

“Browbeat,” growled Bitch. “Independent. Strong and regenerates. Had to run from him a month ago. Coulda taken him, but Grue pussied out and made me run.”

Self-healing. He and Aegis would be the easiest to fight. It would be difficult to seriously hurt them, which was good because that was something I wanted to avoid. It wouldn’t help my plan whatsoever, and these were the capes I somewhat respected, the small handful who actually tried to use their powers to help people. In other words, they reminded me of myself, if I'd lacked the ability to think critically.

Yellow and white foam had formed an iceberg in the middle of the road. Kid Win’s hoverboard had been repurposed into a hoverscooter, with a mounted turret between the handles. That must’ve been what they’d used to take down Regent. Good. They had a way of nonlethally taking us down. Our plan hadn’t necessarily relied on it, but it was something we’d hoped for.

The time had finally come to make my public cape debut. Obscurity no longer served any purpose, the ABB and E88 already planned to kill me, while the perhaps fictional Coil had already successfully recruited me. I’d thought it would be more exciting. I’d once dreamed of being the next Alexandria, but now I only cared about pursuing my goals pragmatically. Still, I’d thought a little part of me would care about glory and popularity. I didn’t.

I opened the wooden doors of the bank, and assessed the wards all lined up in a row. There must have been some trap I was too green to recognize, because their formation seemed almost designed to give me an easy victory. Was this some sort of test? Some trick? I reapplied my non-Atlantic stamp to the sidewalk underneath me. I’d have to fight them. Our escape needed to be haphazard and messy for this to mean anything. My objective was to stall, not win. Even losing and getting captured would be an acceptable outcome. It would be to my benefit to do my best impression of Tattletale, get them engaged in a meaningless back-and-forth, battle with the so-called unwritten rules, anything to extend the fight without making the true nature of my powers clear. In pursuit of that goal, it would be to my benefit to project the image of a family-friendly Saturday morning cartoon villain. 

Playful, energetic, and gentle Tay, that’s what you’ve gotta do. 

“Vile Squirter,” said Clockblocker smugly, using that insulting name Armsmaster had come up with to demean me. His juvenile cruelty reminded me a little of Madison, calling me names and presenting my work as his own. “I see the treacherous Undersiders have already deeply penetrated your sense of decency with their nefarious thievery. Don't try to shake us off. Come quietly Squirter, and you’ll be granted lenia-”

I opened a frisbee-sized portal underneath Kid Win’s scooter, and blasted him halfway to the moon. It probably wouldn’t be lethal. He’d been protected from damage by his scooter, but alas, the scooter and turret had been annihilated by my squirting little geyser. Vista and Aegis both moved to save him. While they were distracted, I opened up an inch wide portal underneath Gallant’s right foot. His armor protected him from any piercing damage, but my little squirt of salt water still tossed him fifteen feet into a nearby building. His body created a spider web of cracks on a window pane on the second story, and he bounced a good foot off the pavement when he finally hit the ground. He wasn’t moving, the middle of his right shin was bent at a right angle, and blood gushed from the leg. Good, good. Dead people didn’t bleed, and a broken leg could be healed. Unfortunately, during my first strike, the cape on the roof had slipped away from my senses.

Twenty seconds in, and I still hadn’t killed anyone, gotten shot at, or been pasted by an explosion. This was going much better than my fights with Lung and Bakuda. Maybe Tattletale was right about unspoken rules, a casual spar like this was almost fun. Even if it was just an act, I thought I played the part of a family-friendly villain as well as could be expected in the real world.

Vista screamed, and rushed to Gallant’s side, cradled his limp body in her arms like an actor in a war movie. She was crying, like actually crying, with tears and everything. It made me uncomfortable, almost angry. The last thing anyone needed was an emotional, irrational soldier. What if she actually tried to attack me? It would be illogical, she couldn’t win, but then I’d have to eliminate her which would suck. She ought to be more like her teammate, Browbeat. He hadn’t moved so much as a muscle. He simply stared, assessed. Cold and logical, his mind was as attractive as his body was repulsive. He had a decent power, but a shit matchup against me and understood as much. He couldn’t beat me, so why force me to kill him unnecessarily?

I turned. I’d sensed one of my hostages stirring. “Unfortunately, I’ve warned you onc- Oh. It’s you again.”

The mousy girl I’d blasted before was crawling towards Gallant. “I can help him,” she said, her breath shallow, her freckled face pale. She’d dressed her foot wound with a torn piece of her shirt, but she wouldn’t stay conscious much longer. I really admired that even in such a condition, she was worried about others. “Stop the bleeding. He’ll die if he doesn’t get treatment, and then you’ll have the entire PRT after you.”

“Fine,” I said. I turned back to Vista. “Among my hostages is a nurse who can treat your comrade. Cease hostilities, and I’ll lend her to you until she’s patched him enough to stop the bleeding.”

See? I was already doing the hero-villain back-and-forth. Treating it like a game, as Tattletale had suggested. With any luck, the ceasefire would take long enough to reach our mission objective.

Aegis hovered, cradling Kid Win’s limp form. He took a few breaths to steady himself and glanced at Clockblocker, who shook his head. “Fine. Truce until they’ve been treated, you have my word.”

Vista glared at me. Probably. Couldn’t quite tell because of her green visor. The mousy girl crawled towards Aegis, leaving a smear of bloody pavement. It was painful to watch, but also inspiring. Such heroism. Strangely, I wanted to help her… And not just to advance my heroic plot.

“Bitch,” I said. “I’m going to assist her.”

“Stupid as fuck,” said Bitch. “They’re lying. They’ll try something as soon as they can.”

Bitch and Angelica followed after me. I suppose it couldn’t be helped. Bitch probably didn’t have the social awareness to recognize that we’d just been playing cops and robbers. I heaved the mousy girl up, and helped her to Gallant, stopping halfway to take a breather, and reapply my non-Atlantic stamp in a more strategic position. That done, I heaved the girl up, walked her the rest of the way, and threw her down next to Gallant’s fallen form.

Vista screamed at me even though I’d stopped our fight to get her teammates first aid. My ear throbbed painfully. She’d never been in a real fight. Lung, Bakuda, Oni Lee, all they’d offered me was death. Hell, Emma, Sophia, and Madison had never offered me any mercy either. All Vista’s anger did was show her naivete, her innocence. She’d never experienced true evil, if she could mistake me for it. I suppose she must’ve thought I was a villain, and worked to her conclusions from there. Why did the people with the strongest opinions on right and wrong have the weakest grasp of it? What if she attacked me, threw my kindness back in my face? It’d be just my luck, try to do something good, try to save some kids, end up killing someone instead. It wouldn’t even be the first time. What had I done to deserve this? My entire life was a fucking punchline. And now it looked like Miss Nurse was actually a fraud, she hadn’t done a thing to treat Gallant.

“N-no, I meant Kid Win,” said the mousy girl angrily. “N-not here, idiot! G-get me to Kid Win. I-I’ve got to s-save Kid Win first. G-Gallant will be oka-”

“Panacea,” said Vista sharply. “What the fuck are you talking about? Save Gallant! He’s really hurt, nobody will be suspicious!”

Panacea? As in the greatest healing cape in North America – that Panacea? Hehehe. They’d played me for a fool. They’d tricked me. They’d really gotten me! Hahaha. How funny! How fucking funny! HAHAHA! Treating me like a joke.

Just like Emma.

“Panacea,” I said, my voice almost a whisper. I gazed down at her like she was an insect. “You’re to heal him until he’s in noncritical condition, but no further. You’ve defied me once. You may defy me a second time, that’s your choice, but remember the consequences for doing so.”

I couldn’t be seen as soft. I had to be taken seriously. Mission critical. I didn’t like it, but if pushed… Killing Panacea would be necessary.

“Y-you think this is a joke? Y-you think this is a game?” Asked Panacea, putting a hand on Gallant’s cheek. The bleeding stopped, the wound closed, and his shin bent back into place. “You’re going to regret this. Oh you’re really going to regret this, psycho.

“Even without the threat, this is all I can do.” Panacea looked up and shot me a smirk full of malice. “He’s braindead. He’s never going to be waking up. Let’s see you laugh at a kill order, psycho.”

“No,” Vista fell to her knees. “No, no, no. You’re lying… You’re lying!”

Lying about what? Maybe Vista should’ve read the job description before signing up. It had been an accident, but a predictable one. I’d known that the line between knocking him out and killing him would be a thin one, and I’d failed to straddle the line. Oh well.

Innocent casualties were inevitable in a war. But sometimes wars were justified, despite their horrific cost, sometimes avoiding them was cowardice. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, say I regretted what I’d done. Not when I was sure that what I was doing was best for Brockton Bay. “That’s unfortunate. Go check on Kid Win.”

Vista’s howl was pure pain.

“No!” Shouted Aegis.

But Vista had already tackled me. Couldn’t open a portal with her right on top of me. I tried to punch her, but she dodged effortlessly, and swept my legs. I tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she straddled me, and pounded my face into the pavement. There went all the rep I’d built up. Physically dominated by a twelve-year-old girl. What a fucking joke.

Bitch kicked her off me.

“Fucking liars,” Bitch growled, stomping on Vista’s chest. “Angelica atta-”

“No,” I roared. Bitch had completely lost it, I needed her somewhere else fast. “Bitch! Shadow Stalker is going after Grue. Go into the bank and warn him, remember the plan!”

“I ain’t runnin’ like a little puss-”

I yanked her neck. “Bitch! We’ve already won the fight out here! Go!”

She grunted, snapped a glance at the mountain of containment foam surrounding Regent, and ran back inside, Angelica bursting through the door with her.

Vista glared up at me hatefully, struggling to get up off the sidewalk. “You’re going to regre-”

I stomped down on her back as hard as I could. “Stay down and don’t use your power,” I said, stepping back a few steps. “Or the next geyser is going through your skull.”

Vista stayed down. Her glare never left me though. “Wait.” Her voice whistled. “Just wait. I’m never going to forgive you.”

I shrugged. “If you want there to be a next time, stay down.”

Aegis flew at me, avoiding my geysers, as I opened portal after portal underneath him. Forced me to open one larger than I’d have liked to hit him, blasted him a good distance away. My geyser had torn off half his abdomen, and he had to hold his right leg to keep himself from folding in on himself like a piece of origami. The only reason he wasn’t leaking intestines was because of his power. It was a shame he’d made me do that. He was lucky I wasn’t a real villain, Kaiser or Lung wouldn’t have spared him.

Luckily, he didn’t rush me again. He hovered in the air, assessing the situation, as the cloudless sky rained icy saltwater. I’d administered just the right amount of violence, instilled just the right amount of fear to control him. Because that’s what really controlled people’s behavior; fear, not love or justice or right-and-wrong. I hadn’t learned that from Bakuda or Lung either. No, that tough pill had been shoved down my throat long before I’d become a cape. Thanks to Emma, thanks to Alan, and thanks to all the cowards at Winslow. 

Aegis and Vista had just proven it true again. They’d broken their truce, their word, as easily as breathing. But when I’d threatened their lives, when I’d displayed enough ruthlessness to make them think I meant it, suddenly they had no interest in fighting. Hahaha! Hadn’t I learned my lesson well? I was so, so very glad that Panacea was here. It made displaying the necessary ruthlessness so much easier.

Browbeat rus- Clockblocker tackled him.

“Clockblocker’s right, Browbeat,” said Aegis. “Use your head, not your heart. I don’t like it either, but we’re outmatched. This has been a disaster, let’s not make it worse. We need to take the Undersider we captured and get Panacea, Gallant, Vista, and Kid Win some help.” He nodded at his gaping wound. “Speaking frankly, I’m going to need some treatment as well.”

“No,” growled Panacea, Clockblocker, and I simultaneously.

“She’s put Gallant in a coma.” Clockblocker seemed surprised with himself. “Probably did the same to Kid Win. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault… I was a fucking idiot. How am I supposed to live with myself if I run now?”

Aegis wasn’t moved, although his voice did have a quiver. “Beat yourself up over it later. You’re not helping Gallant by getting yourself killed.”

Clockblocker hung his head. “You’re right… I’ll… I promise I’ll never let the team down again.”

“What’s left of them,” said Aegis bitterly. “Let’s not lose more.”

Panacea put a hand on Kid Win’s forehead and shook her head. He didn’t stir. I felt a pit in my stomach. Two casualties then. “Don’t run. Five minutes. Give sis five minutes, and if she isn’t here by then, retreat. We can’t let her get away with this.”

“I’m sorry,” said Clockblocker. “But she took us apart in seconds. I’ve fucked up enough today.”

No. No, no, no… If the Wards ran now, then everything would be for nothing. The plan just needed a few more minutes. Maybe… That would work. That just might work.

“You really think Glory Girl can beat me? ” I asked. “Perhaps I’ll wait, but I’m not going to do it for free. I have a condition.”

“What is it?” Spat Panacea.

“When she gets here, we only start fighting after the news cameras show up,” I said. “I want to introduce myself to Brockton Bay properly.”

“Done.” Panacea smirked. “You’re going to regret it. Your little geysers are gonna bounce off her like they’re sprinklers. I’ve seen her toss a dump truck like a baseball. Sis has never been especially good at restraint, you shoulda seen the neo nazi she sent to me a few days ago, and that was because he assaulted a woman she didn’t even know. Maybe you think the fight being televised will save you. If you haven’t been keeping up with the tabloids, Gallant is her boyfriend. Was . She’s going to rip you in half.”

I reminded myself that we’d planned on some members of New Wave arriving. They didn’t know my powers. Glory Girl didn’t know I was a teleporter, I could send her to the Atlantic stamp when she got too close. Unlike Lung, she was invulnerable, so she’d survive it. I had plans in place for any member of New Wave, and I had good odds against half of them, but I’d need to be careful if Lady Photon, Laserdream, or Shielder showed up. Besides Bakuda and Oni Lee, my worst matchups were the flying artillery capes, along with an unknown villain named Ballistic who Tattletale had warned me about.

Glory Girl didn’t have any ranged attacks, I reminded myself. When she got too close, I could just teleport her. Of course, if she decided to just throw a car at me I was pretty much fucked.

“No,” I said, trying to think of a clever reply. “I um… I’ll win. I’m gonna beat her u-”

Brutus burst from the bank, splinters flying, Grue desperately holding on. Blood oozed from his shoulder. Shadow Stalker must’ve clipped him with a bolt, not a tranquilizer. She’d been using live rounds. Lethal force. Fair enough. After what I’d done to Kid Win and Gallant I couldn’t exactly cry foul play. As far as I was concerned, the unwritten rules were nonsense. When capes fought, people died. Pretending otherwise was delusional. Bitch rode after him on Judas.

“Everywhere,” said Tattletale, atop Angelica. “Plans off. Grue’s hurt.”

“Looks like you ran through the Wards,” said Tattletale, smirking. She tapped her taser. “Shadow Stalker’s down. Get Regent and get on. We’re leaving, and I don’t think they’re in any position to stop us.”

“Can’t,” I said. “I’ve made an agreement. We’ve got a ceasefire until Glory Girl and the news cameras show. I’m gonna beat her in front of the entire city.”

Tattletale shot me a vulpine smile, hopped off Angelica, sauntered to the containment foam, ran her finger through it, and winked at me. “An interesting material. Like a bubblebath. I’m certain it’s a kind of fluid, but it’s got enough strength to contain a Brute. It’d be a nice place to put a Glory Hole, eh Regent?”

“No,” said Regent sulkily, from inside the foam. “It’s boring as fuck in here. Free me already.”

Tattletale strutted over to me. “Oh, and who is that next to you? I thought I’d heard Everywhere shout it, but you really are Panacea. The great Panacea. The miraculous Panacea. Forget Armsmaster and Lady Photon, you’re the most famous cape in Brockton Bay. How exactly do you heal people anyway?”

Panacea scowled. “I… don’t think I’ll tell you.”

Tattletale smirked. “Oh but you just did. You see, I’m a psychic.”

“Impossible,” said Glory Girl, descending from the sky like a goddess. She was the very picture of an A-list cape. Tall, athletic, beautiful, impossibly well-endowed, and in a classic all-white costume without a mask. Alexandria Junior. With an aura. The Wards I’d blasted and broken perked up, while I felt a pit of dread form in my stomach. It felt like I’d become a starter villain in someone else’s story. “The brainpower you’d need to interpret and decode someone’s unique neural patterns would need a head five times the usual size to contain it all. True psychics can’t exist.”

Glory Girl had said it as much to her team as she had to Tattletale.

“That so,” said Tattletale, smugly. “Got a little dust on your shoulder, Glory Hole. Wonder how that got there if you’re invincible? Cuz your invincibility is bullshit. Everywhere, you can’t give her the Lung treatment. One good hit and her shields go down for… thank you Glory Hole, two seconds.”

Glory Girl glanced at me. Then at Gallant. Then at Panacea and her bloody foot. Her expression darkened.

“I’m the one the PRT calls Squirter,” I said. “And the villains call Everywhere. I shot a geyser through your sister’s foot. You move at me and the next one’s going through her head.”

“And then I kill you,” said Glory Girl casually. “You’ve robbed a bank, but you haven’t killed anyone yet. Turn yourself in, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to grant you leniency in court.”

“I have killed already,” I said. “We’re going to wait for the news cameras to show. When they do, you’ll have your shot at me.”

“Wait,” said Glory Girl. “You’re really volunteering to get your ass kicked on national television? Ok, I’m game to wait for the major networks to broadcast. In the meantime, sis, heal Gallant.”

“I can’t,” said Panacea nastily, bloodlust clear in her voice. “I’ve already healed his body, but the lights are out. You know I can’t do brains. He’s as good as dead, and psycho’s the one responsible. Must’ve thought it was real funny, she was having a good laugh about it.”

“I see,” said Glory Girl, her aura thickening. It was embarrassing, but I almost pissed my pants. She glided to me slowly, inexorably. I shot a few small geysers at her, but they sprayed off her harmlessly, not even slowing her advance, and luckily not damaging her shields. I stumbled backwards, like a thug who’d just realized that she was completely fucked. I reapplied my teleportation stamp in the Atlantic to my loose gray sweater. Get closer, get closer. C’mon, get in my range and see what happens. “Deals off. I’m not sending you to birdcage. I’m sending you straight to hell.”

“Now, now,” said Tattletale smugly, winking at me. “Let’s not be too hasty. We can still save things. Let me speak, Glory Hole, and I’ll get your boy-toy good as new, pinky promise.

“You see, I know something you don’t know,” Tattletale said, with a sing-song voice, as she sashayed to Panacea’s side. “Lil’ sis isn’t who she says she is. Her deepest darkest secrets I’ll expose. Break her, make her, all with words. Wanna save the day? Wanna save your bae? Then let Tat’s cook today!”

“You’ve got good showmanship, I’ll give you that,” said Glory Girl, looming above me. Within my range. At my mercy. “But you’re a retard. We’re part of New Wave. We have no secrets. That’s the whole fucking point of our team. Heroes with no secret identities, no secrets, full disclosure, total accountability. Words won’t save your teammate, and they won’t save mine.”

Tattletale threw her head up and cackled. “Ames, Ames, Ames, she actually believes it! Glory Hole here actually believes that your family’s got no secrets. The delusion would be sad if it weren’t so damn funny!”

“You don’t know anything,” said Panacea, but she didn’t sound like she believed it. “Sis, kill them! Kill them!”

Glory Girl didn’t move.

“One big happy family! So much love! I’ve seen the television, I’ve seen just how much everyone loves each other. Almost too much, if you ask me. Lady Photon and Manpower,” Tattletale smirked. “Manpower and Brandi-”

“Stop,” said Panacea, trembling. “Stop, just stop. Please, don’t say anymore. Sis, you’ve gotta make her shut up! Before she ruins everything.”

Glory Girl watched silently.

“Don’t you get it yet, my sad, repressed friend? She won’t save you. Not when dear, noble, pure, heroic Gallant’s life is on the line,” said Tattletale. 

Panacea crumpled, broke, like I had when Emma had snapped my mom’s flute in half. And Tattletale’s glee was just as apparent as Emma’s had been back then. Tattletale gave a cheery wave to Glory Girl, put her hands on Panacea’s shoulders, leaned down, and whispered something into Panacea’s ear. 

A moment later, Panacea placed a trembling hand on Kid Win’s forehead. A minute after that, Kid Win’s eyes fluttered open.

Fuck. What was I supposed to think? Tattletale had channeled what I hated most about Emma, turned in up to eleven, and used it to save someone from certain death. Should I hate her? Or praise her?

“Gallant,” said Glory Girl desperately. “Gallant next. Please.”

Panacea nodded, tears in her eyes. Tattletale skipped after her, with a pleased smirk. She winked at me. I didn’t wink back. My fingernails cut into my palm.

Panacea’s hand trembled harder, so much that she couldn’t find Gallant’s skin. Glory Girl flew down, and steadied her hand, helping it rest on Gallant’s cheek. After a minute, Gallant’s eyes fluttered open. Glory Girl wrapped him in a hug.

Maybe I’d been wrong about Tattletale. Her power terrified me, but she’d used it for good. She’d probably just saved me from a kill ord-

“You know Amy,” said Tattletale, her voice louder, covered by the whirling of a news chopper overhead. “You really are your mother’s daughter. I’d recommend that you share your secret with her. You might find her more understanding than you’d think.”

Tattletale’s smile became predatory. “Maybe then she’d actually love you.”

And that was the literal piece of human garbage who I’d chosen to ally myself with ladies and gentlemen. Fucking Emma with superpowers. Armsmaster had publicly slandered me and taken credit for my work, Bakuda had blown me up, and Oni Lee had cut off my right ear. All that, and Tattletale was still my one and only nemesis.

“Enough,” I said. The chopper was here. Glory Girl was within my range. We’d met all the mission objectives. Conflict with the Wards and New Wave was no longer necessary.

“Mom loves you sis,” said Glory Girl, floating to Panacea. “We all do. Don’t let her get to you. She’s just making shit up, she doesn’t know anything.”

“Please,” said Panacea, groveling in front of Tattletale. “Please, please, please don’t say. What do you want? I’ll do anything.”

Tattletale glanced at Glory Girl. “Easy for you to say, Glory Hole. Everyone loves you. Your mother… Panac-”

“Please,” begged Panacea pathetically.

“Your problem,” said Tattletale. “Is your father.”

“Don’t even go there,” said Glory Girl. “Dad’s depressed. He’s not all there, but he’s doing the best he can.”

Fuck. Really? Making fun of someone for having a depressed dad. Where had I heard that before?

“Is he now,” drawled Tattletale slowly, a cruel glint in her green eyes. “Call it a hunch… But I don’t think you know your dad quite as well as you think you do.”

“Tattletale,” I growled. “Stop talking.”

Glory Girl said nothing. Didn’t need to. Her glare and her aura conveyed more than any words.

“Say,” said Tattletale, tapping her lips thoughtfully. “Do you want to know why I call you Glory Hole? It’s not just a hilarious play on words. It’s not because it bothers your arrogant ass. Strange thing is it’s not even about you. It’s about your mom. See, with a glory hole you can’t see who it is you’re fucking, which is similar to the situation eighteen years ago when your mom was fu- Fuck! Everywhere, what the fuck? I almost fucking had her!”

I’d teleported Glory Girl to my other stamp, which I’d laid right next to the mountain of containment foam. Naturally, I’d put Glory Girl as deep in the foam as I could. She screamed incoherently, her aura blasting impotent rage. I teleported Vista, Gallant, and Panacea into the containment foam to give Glory Girl some company.

“With your strength,” I said to Glory Girl. “You could probably break through the containment foam with ease. However, I’ve put your sister and your boyfriend in there with you. As we’ve seen they lack your durability. You brute force your way out, you’re going to be the one who kills them.”

I teleported Regent to my side. 

“Fucking finally,” Regent complained bitterly, pulling up his pants. “Fucking only agreed to getting foamed because a certain big-titted blonde had implied I could use it like a fleshlight. To be fair, the theory was sound. Unfortunately, I overlooked one thing. Without my hands and without any access to pornography, I was unable to get it up. But fear not, dear companions! From here on out, I shall reduce my consumption of pornography and use only my imagination when next I masturbate. Which, coincidentally, will be in ten minutes when we return to HQ. Actually, my ban on pornography will start tomorrow. Actually, screw that, I’m retracting my previous ban on porn. Fucking stupid.”

During his monologue, I’d teleported Aegis into the foam. Clockblocker had had the bright idea to throw a roll of paper towels at me while I’d been distracted by Tattletale ascending to a new level of bitchiness, and used his powers to freeze it. If I’d still been using my Atlantic portals to create geysers, it would have given Aegis cover from attack from below. Unfortunately for them, I’d just teleported Aegis into the containment foam when he’d gotten close. Clockblocker, Browbeat, and Kid Win hung back.

“Just leave, Everywhere,” said Clockblocker. “You’ve won. We concede. Take the money, take your teammates, go.”

Glory Girl’s scream was all she could do. Easily ignored.

We left on Angelica, the Wards and New Wave beaten and broken behind us. The news chopper followed us. It broadcast our vile deed to every television in the entire city. The fact that we’d robbed a bank, the fact that the Undersiders had a new cape named Everywhere in their ranks, the fact that we more than likely had a big pile of money on us, and oh yes, our current location.

Now who in the world would possibly be interested in all that?

Regent passed me the riot shield I’d requested from Tattletale’s so-called boss. The trap had been set.

Playtime was over.

Chapter Text

A/N: Thanks to TwoPence for beta reading and helping me edit this chapter.

Work had halted. The dockworkers had gathered under the Ferry Station’s 44 inch cathode ray television to watch a new cape debut. It happened occasionally. Behemoth, Leviathan, Simurgh, and even lesser villains like King or Glaistig Ulaine had all merited a stop in the workday, and none of them had been local. All bad news, but none of them had actually scared him in anything more than in a theoretical sense, they were just too far away. But robbing Brockton Bay Central Bank? That was plenty local.

Danny shouldn’t have been here. He should have been with his daughter… Comforting her? Or explaining to her why she shouldn’t be cheering on the new villain. Taylor had explained her beliefs to him a few days ago, one cape- one authority- bringing order through violence. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her that her arguments were nothing new. She was just describing fascism. 

The real horror had been learning how she’d developed her beliefs. The abuses she’d suffered, that bitch Blackwell’s inaction, Alan twisting the law into a weapon. He’d failed her. Failed to protect, failed to listen, failed to be there for her. She’d run to her new friend Lisa, and at least still called occasionally. It was probably better than he deserved. He didn’t know what he’d do when she returned. How to fix things, how to make things better between them, how to help her.

He could keep working. Keep the lights on, the water running. Make sure Taylor would always have a home to return to. At least he knew how to do that. Even if three workers had left to join the Empire this week, even if the government had blown off every attempt to get the ferries running again, he knew things would eventually get better. 

He and Taylor would reunite, they’d get the situation at school settled, she’d reach her potential, the ferries would run again, Brockton Bay would rebound, and the heroes would eventually defeat the villains. It should’ve been easy. The PRT had the backing of the state, the villains were on their own, and they were assholes. Maybe they’d be able to recruit a few new members, but even an old man like him had heard of Glory Girl, Panacea, and Aegis, and maybe the protectorate couldn’t defeat the gangs right now, but he’d talked himself into believing that with enough time, the Wards and New Wave would outlast them. The younger villains like Uber and Leet were jokes in comparison to their youthful heroic counterparts, and any other aspiring villains were so minor he hadn’t even heard of them. 

Brockton Bay had a bright future ahead of it. Taylor would live in a better city than he had. He’d really believed that. Not anymore.

Glory Girl, Panacea, Kid Win, Gallant, and Vista had been defeated in an instant. A moment of hope when Aegis had rushed her, extinguished with disdainful ease. There one moment, gone the next. How the hell was anyone supposed to fight that? Fight her? Aegis had been nearly cut in half, and Kid Win and Gallant had only been spared by the mercy of the bad guys. They’d fought hard, done their best, but sometimes the good guys lost, sometimes the villains won so convincingly that it was hard to envision a better outcome.

“She’s like Mouse Protector’s evil twin,” said a young dockworker. “Instead of teleporting herself to people, she can banish them. Must have some sort of blaster power too.”

The news followed the young cape as she and two of her henchmen shot down a street on a giant four-legged monster of exposed muscle and bone. The news feed split screens, with one following after the villains, and the other with a reporter back in the bank.

“She’s got the ability to shoot geysers,” said a slightly overweight white man who’d been held hostage, sitting on a bench and pulling a shiny thermal blanket tight around his shoulders. “One girl stood up to her, and she s-shot a geyser through her foot. No panic. N-no hesitation. No remorse. No anger. Said she’d k-kill the next person who disobeyed her. We got in line real quick after that.”

The dockworkers were quiet. Not all villains were the same. Some were criminals for purely selfish reasons. They were damaging, but could only harm a city so much. Others were unsatisfied with society, and leveraged their powers to try to change the world to their liking. Based on the evidence, it wasn’t clear which of the two the new villain was, but somehow Danny knew in his gut that she wasn’t in it for the money.

“The geysers,” said the news reporter. “Was there any recharge time? How powerful were they?”

“I don’t think there was, no,” said the man, rocking back-and-forth. “And they shot straight through the roof. We saw how strong they were against the Wards. She- she just took down Kid Win and Gallant in seconds and handled the rest of them easily. She um… She said she killed Lung.”

The news reporter chuckled uneasily. “Of course she did. And it’s perfectly understandable that you’d believe her after being held up, but I’ve got to push back a little on that. Armsmaster has been faithfully serving Brockton Bay for over a decade, and there’s no reason we should believe the word of a bankrobber over his.”

The man protested. “Are you fucking kidding me? Just look at Glor-”

The newsfeed cut back to the new cape’s escape. The one who’d killed Lung. The hostage knew it, Danny knew it, Kurt knew it, the rest of the Dockworkers knew it. She’d defeated Glory Girl the same way she’d defeated Lung. There one moment and then just gone. She could teleport anyone, anywhere, from everywhere. He hoped he was missing something. Some limitations that might make her defeatable.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” said a dockworker. “The timeline. Why did the monsters run off with the money? Why not teleport it away? Why even open the vault in the first place? Maybe she relies on line-of-sight? Maybe she can only teleport people and not things? And if that’s the case, why not just teleport the Wards into the goop in the first place? Why rely on geysers, and risk a kill order?”

“She was stalling,” said Kurt slowly. “Waiting for the cameras. Armsmaster took credit for Lung. She wanted to make sure everyone knew it was actually her.”

Maybe… Danny thought back to the conversation he’d had with his daughter. How… how ambitious, she’d made the new warlord sound.

“Because it was a trap,” said Danny. “Robbing a bank, it’s designed to draw attention. Use the Wards to lure in Glory Girl, she was clearly sandbagging against them, and then once her prey arrived, she…”

If it had been a trap designed for Glory Girl, then why keep allowing the newsfeed to chase her?

“She wants the Docks,” said Danny, with a dreadful certainty. “She doesn’t care about the Wards or New Wave. They’re not even on her radar. She’s trying to take over the ABB.”

And he knew in his gut that she wouldn’t be satisfied stopping there. Taylor’s words came back to him. Brockton Bay had been so horrible she’d been attracted to fascism. After the locker, after he and the school had failed to stop her abuse, he hadn’t had the heart to tell her that a more authoritarian regime wasn’t the answer. 

After a decade of gang rule, where crime paid, just how many people had been radicalized? How many people would trade their dozens of bullies, for the single biggest and baddest? Somehow, deep in his gut, he knew that his daughter had been right about the new cape. She wasn’t like Lung or Kaiser, she wasn’t a gangster or a criminal. She was a tyrant.

ooOoo

“Never,” Tattletale said, swiveling on Angelica to face me. “Interrupt me like that again; you fucking understand?”

I bit back my first retort. Tattletale’s weapons were her words. Psychological assault was the only way she had of defending herself against someone like Glory Girl. It wouldn’t be fair to judge her for it. She’d used her powers to save people. She’d probably saved me from a kill order, even if she’d had to act like Emma to do it.

“The news cameras had already arrived.” I managed. I had to be fair. I had to be fair. Give her the benefit of the doubt. “My stamp was in place. Our objective had been met before-”

“Before I told Panacea that her mom didn’t love her,” Tattletale interrupted, rolling her eyes. “As if you would ever notice something that I did not. Yeah I knew it wasn’t necessary for the mission. It wasn’t gonna endanger our success either, so I really don’t see why I should give a fuck.”

“Because it was cruel,” I said. “You were just hurting them for no reason.”

“No reason?” Spat Tattletale. “I live for moments like that! If you hadn’t teleported ole’ Glory Hole, I could’ve had her bawling like a little bitch on national television! I could’ve been more than just your sidekick, I could’ve been the cape who took down Brockton Bay’s golden girl with nothing but words. I could’ve been a fucking legend. But nooo, you had to go and steal my fucking kill.”

Oh. Made sense. Made perfect sense. She’d hurt them for power. For respect. For her own ego. Of course.

“Panacea and Glory Girl are people too,” I said evenly. “They aren’t props for your amusement.”

Regent yawned.

“Yes,” said Tattletale. “They’re people. Such insight. So?”

“So you don’t fucking hurt people for sport,” I hissed.

Tattletale snorted. “I don’t? Glory Girl hunts down criminals and tortures them for fun. She’s got superpowers, beauty, she’s rich and popular, she’s lived a gilded life and the privileged bitch still has the nerve to judge us. To act like what she’s doing is righteous, and she’s doing it for any reason other than getting her rocks off. And you cry foul when I knock Prom Queen off her perch? Turnabout is fair play. And Panacea. You put two Wards in comas. I just did what I had to to save them. See Tay, those are what we call rationalizations. That’s what you do when you hurt someone.

“Me though? I don’t give a shit about most people. If I want to hurt someone, I hurt them, and I don’t tell myself that they were evil, or that it was all part of some elaborate plan to try and justify why I’m still a good person. Because I’m not. Maybe that makes me an asshole, but hey, at least I’m not a murderer. At least I’m not so fucking twisted I think becoming a serial killer will prove I’m better than my bullies.”

I twitched. Tattletale’s words only had power if I let them. She was just trying to hurt me, like Emma did. She was just a bully.

Don’t think about her words, don’t consider them…

Don’t let her get to you.

But what if-

No, don’t think about it, don’t think about it- but of course she was right, I had killed a man. I’d robbed a bank. I’d hurt three heroes, almost killed two, and I was gonna keep right on killing. I’d considered myself a soldier, trying to take out an enemy general. But what if it was all just a long con I was playing on myself, to rationalize away killing Lu-

She’s smarter than you Taylor. She’s a thinker. Don’t play her games, don’t let her in, or you’ll lose for sure.

Tattletale sighed. “Don’t listen to me Taylor. I was just fucking with you because I was angry. Forgive me?”

I… She was playing me. She had to be. Fucking with me just like Emma would. Her apology was just another game. I’d been a fool to think that I could defend myself against her, that I’d somehow be resistant when she tried to master me, when she manipulated me to her will. It had taken her all of three days to get me into her little team, all the while I was convinced it was my own decision. She was the most dangerous cape in Brockton Bay, my most powerful enemy, an Emma with superpowers. 

She also wasn’t putting bombs in people’s brains.

“We don’t have to like each other,” I said. “We still need each other to take down Bakuda and the ABB. That’s what matters.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” said Tattletale. “I’ve got an idea of how you triggered. Bullying. I’m not like them. If you give me an actual chance, you’ll see that I’m not an enemy.”

She wasn’t an enemy. Not today at least.

“You’re right,” I said. “You’re not like them. You’ve got powers. You’re useful.”

After that, no one said much. The only sound was the steady roar of the helicopter that followed us. We reached the Northern Ferry Station. The road was wide. To our left was a mostly empty parking lot, and to our right was a beach, old plastic bags tumbling like tumbleweeds, used heroin needles scattered about like wood chips in an old playground. It had once been beautiful, busy, thriving. Now it was ABB territory.

“Oni Lee’s here,” Tattletale whispered in my ear. “But Bakuda didn’t bite. He’s hiding behind the cars. Listen, you need to put a stamp on one of us…”

Tattletale continued to prattle, but I was done talking. She’d made good on her part of our deal, and as far as I was concerned, she could fuck off now. All the evil shit I’d done, I’d done for this opportunity. I couldn’t let Oni Lee escape. There were only a few cars by the back of the parking lot. Maybe four hundred feet away. Out of my range. I’d bet my life it wasn’t a coincidence. They knew my powers, how to counter them. They had me outnumbered, Oni Lee had a better power, they probably had a plan for how to handle me, and I didn’t have the firepower of the Atlantic portal. I didn’t care.

I tagged Regent’s jacket, and chucked a stamped tennis ball at an old red pickup truck. I teleported off Angelica, tumbled forward in the middle of the parking lot at the same speed as the bouncing ball, and planted my riot shield in the direction of the cars. I could sense the ABB members, could already feel them taking aim, but I wasn’t close enough to teleport their guns away. I applied both teleportation stamps to the shield, covered its surface with portals, and huddled behind it. 

The machine guns sounded like thunder, I couldn’t hear bullets rushing past me like in the movies, just the explosion of the initial gunshot and hot lead slamming against cement. Couldn’t tell if it was over, couldn’t hear anything, just ringing. Not dead, which was good. Didn’t dare peek around the riot shield, expose myself, didn’t have to. Teleportation sense showed a couple gangbangers unmoving. Dead from their own bullets spat out back at them. Seven hiding behind the handful of cars near the red truck. Still too far to teleport away their guns. Could try to throw the ball again, but that would leave only one portal on the shield, and the spherical portal on the ball would spray out bullets randomly. No, the cover provided by the dual portals was more important. Good practice for Purity too. Eventually they’d realize what was happening and fan out, so they could fire at me from more directions that I could defend. That’s when I would throw the ball, and get a stamp within range to teleport away their guns. Turtle behind the reflector shield until then.

The ABB members screamed like little girls and fled.

Angelica galloped past me, and chewed up one of the smaller gangbangers. The rest scattered, but not until Angelica got another midget. Five left. There was more gunfire, forcing Angelica back. While they were distracted, I got another ball out of my sweater, stamped it, threw it at the enemy, and teleported their guns to the stamp on my riot shield.

Two panicked and ran. Not far. Once they’d left the parking lot, Bakuda detonated the bombs inside of them. The male liquified into a soupy mess. The female distorted like a reflection in a funhouse mirror. Her arms extended, one leg got fat, another shrunk, half her chest shriveled to the size of a pin, the other bloated to ten feet. She didn’t scream. She couldn’t. Her mouth was the size of a needle, her nostrils the size of beach balls. Somehow, she wasn’t dead. 

Neither the male nor the female had been older than twelve. 

They’d been children. The two remaining children shook behind the cars, lost their composure, and started to cry.

Fuck…

…Fuck…

Bakuda would pay.

I grew cold. I’d been a fool to question the righteousness of my cause. Bakuda had to die. Robbing a bank, nearly slaughtering some wards, a small price to pay if I could kill her even a day quicker.

I heard someone whooping behind me.

“Ho-ly shiiiittttttt,” said Regent, laughing. “That kid just fucking melted!”

I gaped at my teammate. Was he even huma- I dove too late. Oni Lee had teleported behind me, and the only reason I didn’t have a knife in my back was because he’d stumbled over his feet. He’d already recovered, lunging at me, but I teleported him to the tennis ball a hundred feet away before his knife could sink into my heart.

“He knows,” Tattletale barked. An annoying distraction. I did my best to ignore her prattling. I reapplied my stamp to another ball, and chucked it as high and as hard as I could. “Hey, I’m fucking talki-”

Oni Lee behind me again. Lunging. Ready this time. Teleported him to the ball sailing sixty feet in the air. Not so easy when I’m not half dead is it, you arrogant assho- Shit! Oni Lee tried to stab my back again, as his clone splattered against the concrete. Whatever. Teleported him ten feet above the tennis ball, watched him eat shit against the pavement. Tried to ignore a spray of rocks Tattletale had thrown at me. Annoying distraction, and Oni Lee had teleported behind me again, unpinning a grenade. Teleported him and his stupid grenade to the ball. 

Fuck.

His clone had thrown the ball back at me, and now Oni Lee and the unpinned grenade were hurdling at me. I dove for my riot shield, reapplied my stamps onto it, and opened up some portals to turn it into a reflector shield. Another Oni Lee appeared behind me, already lunging, knife extended. Tattletale filled him up with bullets as she sprinted to me. The clone vanished in a puff of dust, as the one hurdling at me exploded. My portal shield held up, but the explosion still hurt my ears, and the heat irritated the burns on my back.

Tattletale yanked my shield from me, and spun it so it was facing the roof of a nearby building, just in time to block a barrage of gunfire from the top of said random ass building, and goddam teleporting powers were such fucking bullshit! It was like he was fucking everywhere and it wasn’t fucking fair!

“Stamp me,” said Tattletale, reloading her handgun, as we weathered the storm of bullets. She glanced at the four automatic rifles I’d teleported from the children. “Get on Angelica and run. Teleport me to you once you’re out of sight. It’s our best shot at escaping.”

“No,” I growled. “He dies today.”

The barrage stopped and Oni Lee appeared a foot behind me. I teleported near one of the assault rifles, scooped it up, and filled the fucker with lead as Tattletale sprinted back to Regent. Lee vanished in a puff of dust, but his unpinned grenade remained. I teleported it into my hand and chucked it as far from me as I could. I glanced around, tense. But Oni Lee for once wasn’t behind me, he’d finally let up on his assau- fuck, what was I doing looking for him with my eyes? I sensed for him with a stamp, found him stabbing Regent in the shoulder. He’d missed the kill? Already pulling out his knife, and next time he wouldn’t miss.

Fuck. I lifted the rifle- my aim wasn’t that good, couldn’t hit Lee without hitting Regent. Shit! Blade thrusting, what to do? Wait, Tattletale had carried my riot shield over to him. He was in range. I squeezed the trigger, teleported over to Regent, the barrel of my gun pressed against Lee’s skull. More dust. Another clone.

Tattletale open fired on the cars, jerking her head at my shield. I put both stamps on it, opened up a couple portals, turned it into a reflector shield, handed it off to Tattletale, who slammed it in place just in time to shield us from another bullet barrage.

“Stamp me,” said Tattletale. “Close your eyes. Sense for when he takes the bait. Tag him when he tries to stab you. Don’t hesitate. Regent will make him miss. Keep your eyes closed. Toss Lee the hot potato on three.”

The plan wasn’t exactly clear, but I knew she wanted me to stamp him when he was stabbing me. Not to defend when he attacked, but to go for a counter? I didn’t dismiss it, crazy as it sounded. Regent could make people twitch and trip with his power, he’d probably saved me from getting stabbed or shot several times already, but wasn’t it something that took a lot of concentration?  Hadn’t he just been stabbed?

“You won’t get stabbed.” Regent chuckled, grasping his shoulder. He’d also laughed when a child had melted, and Tattletale was an unrepentant bully. I hated them, but what choice did I have? Oni Lee’s teleportation was more flexible than mine in close combat; I couldn’t take him out alone, that much was clear already. If I wanted to win- to spare more asian kids from getting their brains blown up- I needed to get over myself. I was going to die, wasn’t I?

Fuck it, I’d go down fighting. I put a stamp on Tattletale’s ridiculous costume and closed my damn eyes. Probably stupid, but what was the worst that could happen? If I didn’t change things up I was dead anyways, so I’d just put my trus-

“Later retard,” said Tattletale saucily, hopping on Angelica and galloping away. “Good luck with Mister Kamikaze!”

Typical Tattletale, trying to get the enemy off balance. Kept my eyes closed. Needed Lee to go in for the kill, keep his prey from escaping. Only the real one could teleport, so he’d be vulnerable for a quarter-second after using his power. Wait for it… wait for it… wait for it… Now!

I teleported to the larger of the two figures in my stamp sense, and brushed my hand against his bodysuit. Tagged it with a stamp. Heard Tattletale gasp softly. Ignored it. I could sense wherever he went, could feel him as he instantaneously cut through space. Another stamp appeared from nowhere. And another. Right, he cloned everything on him when he teleported, and that included my stamps. Four active, when the most I could control was two. Deactivated stamp on Lee’s first clone, then deactivated another, but Lee was teleporting fast. I teleported the clone in front of me ten feet above Regent to keep it from killing me before our plan could mature. Tattletale handed me something. A live grenade, about to explode. The hot potato. Whoever held it when the music stopped, lost. Had to wait. Deactivate stamps. Teleport it at the right moment. Too early and he’d just teleport away, too late and we’d be the ones eating the explosion. Oni Lee must have realized what we were trying to do. He teleported again and again and again. Tried to overwhelm me. Make me lose track. I deactivated stamps as fast as I could, but I was way over my limit. Overwhelming. Too much, too much, too much. Losing track, losing myself in the space between spaces. I could only comprehend one pair of stamps, too many activating, losing sense of sel-

Tattletale squeezed my hand. One.

On three I’d send away the grenade.

I deactivated stamps as quickly as I could. Still too many, still two pairs, hard to tell which was which. Searched harder. Oni Lee cloned himself faster and faster. Forced me to be in three, four, five, places at once. Forcing me to be everywhere, splitting me apart, making me feel like I was vanishing. I allowed more portals. Allowed each to be weakened. Allowed thoughts to be overwhelmed by stimuli. 

Another squeeze. Two.

Lost myself in the task. Chase, catch, kill. Concentration. Anticipation. Execution. 

Three.

I teleported the grenade to Oni Lee as it exploded. Half his skull was pulverized in an instant by the point blank blast. All but one of my stamps fell away. The one stuck on Oni Lee’s mangled corpse. He was the second person I’d killed. Unlike Lung, he’d been prepared for the fight, he’d had counters for my powers, and I’d been forced to use every advantage just to survive. I didn’t feel a rush of power or shame, not even a thrill of victory. Because it wasn’t a victory. I hadn’t won anything. The job wasn’t finished. It wouldn’t even be finished after I’d killed Bakuda. Not until every single supervillain in Brockton Bay had been killed or scared straight.

Still. It was a step, and not a small one. In a week, I’d brought the ABB to its knees. Not Armsmaster, not Kaiser, me. Puny pathetic Taylor Hebert. Maybe the Trio still thought I was a punchline, but I doubted the rest of Brockton Bay was laughing. Maybe they thought I was a monster, and maybe they weren’t wrong, but at least they wouldn’t think I was a joke. Not after I’d made Oni Lee’s brain rain down on the Docks on national television.

I allowed myself a small smile, opened my eyes, and oh…

Tattletale had a knife buried in her stomach, popping my bubble of smug self-satisfaction. She’d been the one to buy time for me, using herself as bait, not me. I’d been following her plan. She’d used me like a puppet, and good thing too, because it was the only reason Oni Lee hadn’t killed all three of us, and I… I didn’t understand. She’d been trying to master me. Use me as a tool to bludgeon her enemies. She’d manipulated me, corrupted me, toyed with me more skillfully than Emma ever had.

She’d been stabbed for me. That couldn’t have been an act.

But of course it could have. If we hadn’t taken down Oni Lee, she’d have been dead too. Her self-sacrifice had been as much to her own benefit as mine. None of the bad things I’d thought about her had changed. Tattle was still a bitch, she was still a bully, still a criminal, but she was also… I don’t know… Not heroic, not really, but if an Endbringer showed up at our door, she’s the one I’d want guarding my back. She was still an enemy, still someone I’d eventually have to kill, but for the first time I found myself hoping she might change before it came to that. Stupid, I know, people didn’t change.

“Mission accomplished,” I said stiffly. “Oni Lee is dead. Get on Angelica, go back to the HQ, contact your doctors. I’ll take care of things here.”

“Coil’s doctors,” said Tattle weakly, still smiling. “C’mon, don’t pretend. I know you’re starting to believe me.”

“If you keep talking,” I grumbled. “You really will bleed out. Now get on Angelica… Bakuda is still out there. Our alliance is still on.”

“Can’t leave yet,” Tattle said, as cheerful as ever. I tried not to hear the obvious pain in her voice. “The children aren’t dead yet, but it’s something only you can do.”

So that’s why Tattle sounded so cheerful. Torturing me brought joy to every bully. Still, I’d give her credit, she was right. I couldn’t leave, not before I took care of the little girl who’d had the bomb in her brain detonated. She was on the other side of the parking lot, stretched and shrunk into an abomination through a perversion of Vista’s power. Every breath a torture, every moment pain. For some reason, she wouldn’t die. 

There was only one solution. Only one thing I could do to help her. One final mercy. It wasn’t something a hero would do. It wasn’t something I wanted to do either. I trudged to the little girl, dreading what was necessary, dreading my duty, my responsibility. I scooped up an assault rifle, forcing myself not to slow.

“I can do it,” Regent offered, clutching his shoulder. I doubted he’d be able to lift the gun with his wound, but even if he could I wouldn’t have accepted.

“No.” I looked at the girl. She looked at me. I couldn’t see any fear in her brown eyes, any understanding or hatred, just agony. I was responsible for her pain. It had been to save more children from sharing her fate, but if I hadn’t lured out the ABB she wouldn’t be suffering on the ground.

I couldn’t offer an apology. It wouldn’t be genuine. I’d had nothing but shitty options, and I still thought I’d picked the best one. The one which would help the most people. Just not her.

“I will kill Bakuda,” I promised the girl. I looked into her eyes, tried to give her one last moment of companionship. Then I squeezed the trigger and put a bullet through her brain. Her chest stopped rising and falling, her eyes became dull, blood oozed from the open hole in her forehead, pooling in cracks in the pavement.

I waited for regret to come. Nothing. I’d killed a girl, a small innocent child, and… and it should have meant more.

I wasn’t a good person. A good person wouldn’t kill a little girl. I had, and it had just been another moment. A part of me was glad. I could be cold. I could do what was necessary. I would never allow this to happen again. Whatever it took.

I pointed my assault rifle at the news chopper and open fired, only releasing the trigger when it retreated. I would have done it sooner, but putting the girl out her misery had taken priority over my image. I’d be receiving a kill order. It didn’t really matter. Given my purpose, the villains would take me out far sooner than the heroes.

“You might’ve done that earlier,” said Regent lightly. “I’ve found that most people are strangely repulsed by the idea of murdering children.”

“Didn’t matter,” rasped Tattle. “The public and heroes don’t know about Bakuda. We were all getting kill orders as soon as Bakuda detonated their bombs. Looked like we killed them after they’d given up.”

Regent winced. “And I’m the only one on the team with an unknown power. Well fuck. What are we waiting for? Let’s skedaddle before the protectorate shows.”

“Not yet. Two left.” Tattle shot me a vulpine smile, and pointed at the last two ABB members, huddled together behind an old red Hyundai. Two girls. Japanese, Korean maybe. Dark skinned, maybe eleven or twelve, looked like sisters. Both crying and holding each other. Tattletale could fuck right off. I wasn’t going to kill them, no matter how she tried to convince me.

“I think you, and you alone, can save them,” said Tattletale. “Really save them. You can teleport away the bombs in their head. You’re more than a killer Taylor. You can use your power to help people. You can be a hero.”

…Bullshit…

Bullshit! She was full of fucking shit! I should’ve known better than to ever think we could be friends! She was just like Emma. Getting me to let my guard down, figuring out just where to strike to hurt me! Well I wasn’t as dumb as she thought. As if I’d ever believe that I could be a hero. As if I was gullible enough to believe that Tattletale could ever give a fuck about anyone other than herself.

“You teleported their guns away,” said Tattletale slimily. “Why not their bombs?”

I pretended to play along, put a stamp on my sweater, and advanced on the girls. They crawled backwards, or at least tried too, but stumbled over themselves for some reason. Probably fatigue. Maybe Bakuda’s bombs fucked with their nervous system or something.

I reached out with my stamp sense, but didn’t notice anything like a bomb. Long story short on my power, my sense worked like sight. Couldn’t see inside things. I couldn’t teleport things in halves either. I couldn’t teleport just someone’s leg or their heart, or anything like that. I either teleported their entire body, or nothing. Unfortunately, the bomb in their heads registered to me as part of their body. In other words, I couldn’t teleport them. Maybe that had been Tattletale’s game. Get me to think I could actually be a hero, then take it away. It hadn’t worked. If I knew anything, I knew that my life wouldn’t be a happy one. I couldn’t save the children.

“Not yet,” said Tattletale superiorly. She seemed to enjoy needling me despite having a knife in her gut. “But you were able to teleport away the guns even though they were holding them. Could you teleport the knife that’s in me if you wanted?”

I searched with my senses. The knife did register to my powers as separate from Tattletale. I could teleport it. Strange, where was she going with- oh… 

…Oh no…

No, no, no…

“So then,” Tattletale said sadistically. Stop. Shut up. Shut your damn mouth! “Why can you teleport the knife and guns but not the bombs? Because they are exposed to air, while the bombs are completely surrounded by flesh. You can teleport out the bombs if you expose them.”

She smirked at the two girls, and bent down so they were eye level. “My friend can save you from Bakuda, but she’s gonna have to cut your head open, kay?”

The girls stopped shaking. Something replaced their fear, and I didn’t exactly like the look they were giving me. It made me uncomfortable. Scared me more than Oni Lee’s death glare ever had. Fuck, I didn’t like it at all.

Points to Tattletale, this was new. Emma had never tortured me like this.

“I…” I said, terror filling me. I started to shake. “I c-can’t do this. I d-don’t know how. W-we don’t even have any knives. I-its imp-p-possible.”

“You can get the knives off Oni Lee’s body,” said Tattletale. “You told me you wanted to make Brockton Bay a little less shitty. Here’s your chance. Not by taking down a bad guy, but by actually doing something good.”

…Bullshit!

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. How could cutting open a child’s skull ever be considered a good thing? Ridiculous. Tattletale was a lying, scheming, conniving little bitch. Smart though. As smart as Emma liked to think she was. She’d tricked me into becoming an Undersider, twisted everything so it seemed like a rational choice, but she wouldn’t trick me into this! If this got out, I’d be as big a villain as Nilbog.

“Oh it’s getting out,” said Tattletale, without her trademark smile, her voice neutral. “Bakuda will make sure of it. Why fight us and the protectorate, when she can turn us against each other? Divide and conquer, it’s basic tactics. Everything you’ve done up until now could be forgiven. Not this. Not ripping open the skulls of children. That’s unforgivable. You’re gonna be bigger than Nilbog, bigger than Heartbreaker, you’re gonna be seen as the next Bonesaw. You’ll be considered a monster. There will be no recovering from this Taylor, they will never forgive you. You’ll never be able to unmask in front of your dad. Speaking of which…”

I followed her gaze to the end of the parking lot. To a number of Dockworkers who’d wandered out of the ferry station. Dad was in front. Fucking perfect. What next, would Lisa somehow appear from nowhere to be horrified by me too?

“But the people that matter,” said Tattletale, “the people you’ve saved, they’ll know the truth. They’ll know that when everyone else gave up on them, you ruined your own career to save them. These two children, they’ll be alive, and if you do nothing... They’re dead. They’re dead for sure. So what matters to you Tay?”

I…

“Do you want to be seen as a hero?” Asked Tattletale. “Or do you actually want to be one?”

…Fuck Tattletale. Worse than Emma. A thousand times worse. Manipulating me. Twisting things. This was a trick. It was a trick. It had to be a trick.

“Please,” said the older of the two girls. “Please, please, please get it out of me. I can’t live like this anymore!”

Fuck! Fucking bullshit. Dammit. Unfair. I shouldn’t have to. Hero, villain, good and evil, what about what I wanted? Fucking slicing open people’s heads right in front of Dad wasn’t my idea of a good time. It wasn’t my responsibility. What about when I’d needed help? Nobody had saved me! Nobody had fucking saved me!

…Nobody had saved me…

Nobody had saved me.

Shit.

A part of me, long forgotten, stirred again. My heart hammered, my skin tingled, nausea rolled along my guts. Trepidation. But I couldn’t afford to hesitate.

I pulled the girl to me, found stitches indicating where the bomb had been inserted, and sliced open her scalp. Blood splurted on the knife, but I could still see the screws Bakuda had used to keep her skull in place. I cut through two, and pried apart the bone, revealing a third layer of stitching of what looked like a hidden layer of skin. With care, I cut through those as well, peeling it back, until I could sense Bakuda’s bomb. I teleported it away as the girl screamed. I didn’t blame her. It must’ve hurt. Having your head ripped open, your brain exposed. Her blood splattered on concrete. I did my best to put everything back the way I found it, although Tattletale would probably have to get one of her surgeons to get everything closed properly. For all my trouble the girl would probably die of infection, I was fairly certain surgery was only supposed to be done in a controlled environment.

I was probably going to hell for this. I repeated the process with the other girl, fighting off my nausea, my terror, my repulsion, forcing myself to action. One wrong move would kill her. One slip of the knife and it was lights out forever. But I didn’t mess up, I got the bomb out of her, even as she screamed.

“Thank you,” said the two children.

My eyes felt heavy suddenly. My nose felt clogged. I sniffed.

Tattletale smiled, nodded at the dog, and collapsed onto the ground. Right, she had a knife in her belly. She must’ve been holding on, until the job was through. Torturing me must have been fun. If Regent hadn’t been with me I'd have left her to die.

I was shaking. I tried to steady my hand. I couldn’t. I’d saved them. I could save more. And if I could, I had to, it was my responsibility, my duty, my purpose.

It was something to live for.

Horror settled in me. Terror. Anger. Tattletale had stolen my invincibility. She’d made me vulnerable. Given me a taste of what it felt like to be human, to feel good, to have something to lose. The strings she’d had on me had just become permanent. If she could force me to cut open a child's head, force me to commit to a life of villainy, and more than anything force me to think that I might actually be worth something, she could force me to do anything.

I felt tears trickling down my cheek. Snot dribbling onto my lips. Couldn’t control my breathing. I was crying? She’d made me fucking cry?

I made a promise to myself. Someday, when the time came, when I sunk a knife in Tattletale’s heart, I’d remember this day. What she’d forced me to do. What she’d done to me. I’d never forget. I’d never forgive.

ooOoo

It wouldn’t be in the news, but Danny knew what he’d seen. She’d cut open the children’s heads. Kept them as captives. He’d been right. She was taking over the ABB. Threatening children to do it. He’d inherited his father’s anger, and he felt it coming on now. Stupid. He couldn’t run out to the parking lot, it’d just get him killed, leave Taylor an orphan. 

He’d seen her fight with Oni Lee. It was on another level than the fight with the Wards. A different speed, like comparing an NBA game to a junior high one. That was what it looked like when capes fought without restraint. Powers utilized cleverly, lethally. Each attack deadly, tactical, no pauses, no quips, one lapse in concentration meant death. Either one of them could’ve leveled the Wards a few times over. Each an army unto themselves. Brave, bloodthirsty, cunning, ruthless, precise. Natural born killers. In the end, she had won, but more than that she’d exposed that the hero’s would never win. Most people hesitated. Heroes hesitated. Hell, most villains hesitated. She didn’t.

Kurt held his arm, as the dockworkers watched the villains escape on a giant, bone-covered monster. 

“She can’t get away with this,” Danny growled, but let himself be restrained. “If the PRT has any integrity, they’ll call in the Triumvirate to take care of her.”

“I hope not,” said Kurt. “The city needs her.”

What?

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Kurt. “I don’t like her, and I’m not in favor of killing children, but… What was she supposed to do? Let them go? Let them go kill somebody else? They fired on her first!”

“They were children,” Danny said, looking at Kurt as if he’d never seen him before.

“Enemies,” said Kurt. “You were right about the bank. It was to lure out the ABB. And now they’re gone. She should get a fucking medal.”

“She murdered children!”

“And got the job done,” said Kurt. “You saw her take on Oni Lee! You wanna tell me the protectorate could’ve done any of that? You think they’d have the balls to do what we all knew should’ve been done a decade ago? Or would they have tried to take him alive, even if that meant letting him escape? When is enough, enough?”

“We have laws for a reason,” said Danny. “You sound like a fascist!”

“Maybe I just want somebody to win,” said Kurt, throwing up his arms. “And yeah, maybe I think a little authoritarianism is in order. I think we’ve all learned that some people need consequences to be kept in line. I’m surprised you’d disagree after everything your daughter went through.”

“Don’t bring her up in this,” Danny growled, his face growing red.

“She’s dropping out, Danny,” said Kurt. Sincere, not taunting, which only made Danny angrier. “Her life is ruined. And the girls responsible get a two week suspension? They’re probably talking to each other on the phone, laughing about it. They should be in jail! That’s why Brockton Bay is dying, it didn’t hit me until you told me what happened, and something your daughter said made everything click. If I were in your shoes… I’d find Kaiser. Join him if he could give me the justice the courts and the school wouldn’t. How many times has that story played out?”

“Many,” said Danny. “It’s not a solution. It would mean stooping to their level. Losing. And each time someone does, it just makes the whole situation worse.”

“You’re a better man than most,” said Kurt. “But tell me. If those three girls thought that the principal was crazy, that she’d kill them if they pulled something like that- would they have even bullied your daughter in the first place?”

 “Probably not,” said Danny. “But we’ve developed past that as a society. We’ve learned that fear is detrimental to higher order thinking. Students lose about 30 IQ points if they don’t feel safe.”

“Did Taylor feel safe at school?” Asked Kurt. “Do you feel safe in Brockton Bay? Would you feel more or less safe, if the cops and capes could subdue the criminals with lethal force?”

That sounded a lot like a police state. He looked past Kurt. Some agreed with him, some agreed with Kurt, it was about even. A cold dread overtook Danny. It was strange how clearly the new cape had made her recruitment pitch without uttering a single word. She hadn’t needed to, instead she’d made her campaign promises through the televised destruction of the ABB. 

She had no grand vision, no unifying philosophy, no promise of drugs or women or even money. Her sole promise was death to the bad guys, by any means necessary. She appealed to a lot of decent people, who should’ve known better. That, more than any of her evil deeds, terrified him in a way that none of the other villains ever had before, because it meant she could actually win.

She could conquer Brockton Bay.

He realized what he needed to do. Something he should’ve done a long time ago. Sell the house. Move from Brockton Bay. Quit his job, find a new one somewhere else, no matter how menial, no matter how demeaning. Move somewhere small. Somewhere beneath the notice of capes. He needed to protect his daughter, but the threats in the city were too large for him.

He couldn’t let his precious Taylor share a city with Everywhere.

Chapter Text

A/N: Thanks to TwoPence for betareading and helping me cleanup this chapter. I’m not pleased with this chapter, but I’m not sure how to fix it. I figure it’s better to just release it, rather than take a long hiatus to try and figure out how to maybe make it better.

ooOoo

What the hell had he been doing with his life?

About an hour ago he’d been excited about facing off with Brockton Bay’s newest cape. Ole Clockblock was gonna show Aegis that it was okay to loosen up, okay to have a little fun, because when push came to shove the Wards didn’t really matter. They were just kids, it wasn’t like the PRT was ever gonna let ‘em fight anyone dangerous. 

And then Everywhere had Everywhere’d all over him. It fucking sucked. A lot.

Kid Win was quiet, that’s how Dennis knew it was bad. Normally he and Chris would be ripping on each other for every little thing, but Kid Win wouldn’t even look at him. The news reporters were swooping in for details about the bank heist, and typically they’d be all over Clockblocker for a sound bite. He had a reputation for being the Ward with the loosest tongue, but the way they were avoiding him today would have been funny if he didn’t just lead his team into a massacre. Not that he’d know what to say if they put a camera in his face. My bad? Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it.

The PRT had spent decades building up the trust of the public. Armsmaster and all the other heroes risked their lives against capes like Lung, quelled the advance of the Empire, and kept Brockton Bay safe. In one damn afternoon Clockblocker had turned the entire organization into a joke. A real shitty one. Nobody was laughing. Well, nobody but Everywhere, she’d seemed to find a lot of humor in his failure come to think of it, she’d started giggling halfway through the battle and hadn’t stopped. Now he realized why. He’d made it fucking easy for her, he’d turned the Wards into a joke.

He’d lined his team up for her like goons in a shitty shooter cabinet.  Should’ve had Aegis or Browbeat or Shadow Stalker up front. Should’ve had somebody to scout out her powers. Should’ve been quicker to retreat. Should’ve come in quiet, not shouted his presence like a moron. Probably a thousand more should’ves. Instead he’d been thinking of puns, double entendres, having fun, and treated a battle with a bigger badder Lung like a game. Armsmaster had warned him about his attitude, but of course Clock had known better. Kid Win and Gallant nearly dead in an instant, Aegis and Vista heavily wounded, and Clockblocker and Browbeat left at a villain’s mercy.

He had to change. Could he? Would it be enough?

Dennis was a failure and everyone knew it.

He’d… In one fucking day he’d thrown away any confidence the public had in their heroes. He… It wasn’t all on him though!

Fuck Everywhere! Powers like that, and she chose to be a fucking villain? Fucking why? Fucking, fuck! Why the fuck did everyone have to be so- they had fucking superpowers, it should’ve been fucking awesome! Instead she used them to hurt people, to rob banks. Sure he’d been irresponsible, but it wasn’t his fault she’d decided to use her powers to be a total dildo.

And Armsmaster- what had he been thinking? Why’d he put Clockblocker in front of a monster like Everywhere? She’d gone for the throat from the jump, escalating straight to lethal force like she’d been itching for it. She wasn’t a beginner cape for the Wards to get some experience fighting, a mistake against her would be the last you’d ever make. She could and would kill you in a blink, how did Armsmaster expect the wards to fight her?

Looking back, even if he’d done everything right, it’s not like they could’ve won! She went through them like a fucking buzzsaw! He’d been the damn fall guy! He’d been set up to fail. But no, precious Aegis and his perfect fucking attitude couldn’t be set opposite a sure loss. He had to be protected. So give it to Clockblocker, let him take the blame! He deserves it; he doesn’t even try! It was all fucking politics. If he had his nose up ole Armsie’s ass then-

Kid Win put a hand on his shoulder. “We made it through. None of us died. We’ll figure this out. Figure out a way to fight her, maybe.”

Dennis felt his anger rise.

“Just like you’ve figured out how to finish a project?” Asked Clockblocker sarcastically. “Add two and two? You think a better plan is gonna allow us to take her? That’s cause you lost so fucking fast you don’t know what it’s like to face her! We’re never gonna fucking beat her. Sometimes things don’t get better. Sometimes you’re just a fucking failure.”

He regretted his words as soon as they’d left his mouth.  What the hell was wrong with him? Just start insulting the best friend he had on the Wards? Was this the kind of person he was?

“Fuck,” said Dennis. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I… You almost died Chris, and it would’ve been my fault. I get what you’re trying to do, but… I need some time to figure it all out.”

Chris just nodded and turned back to inspect the big yellow pile of containment foam.

Dennis had to get himself under control, make sure he didn’t do something he’d regret. He wasn’t totally blind to what was happening. He’d fucked up like he’d never fucked up before, and he was trying to put the blame on anyone but himself. Trying to avoid a simple fact, a question burrowing into his brain.

Should I quit?

He didn’t know whether he was capable of being a hero.

Was he just being lazy? Or would it have been a disaster no matter what? Why had he been lazy, why had he never taken things seriously? Was it really his personality, or did it mean something deeper? Did he even want to be a hero? It was mostly something he’d fallen into, a way to help pay Dad’s medical bill. But when confronted with a nightmare like Everywhere, did he really want to be the one running towards her? It would be insane to do that for a paycheck.

Maybe he should hang up his clock once and for all. Sure it’d be a shitty way to go, but he’d get to spend more time with his dad before the end. That seemed more meaningful than pretending he had what it took to be a hero.

The Brockton Bay Protectorate finally arrived at the bank. Armsmaster stuck the safe end of his halberd into the containment foam, the effect was immediate, like sebum oil on beer head. The foam hissed, its bubbles crackling quickly, popping back into liquid. Aegis was the first to be freed, and helped pull Panacea out as well.

“Get your hands off me,” said Panacea. She was pale, trembling. Dennis wasn’t sure if it was from Everywhere blasting a hole in her foot, or whatever it was that Tattletale had used to blackmail her into healing Dean and Chris. Either way, Panacea’s pain was on him.

Aegis let her go. Half his stomach had been blown off by one of Everywhere’s geysers. He looked like he lost a fight with a cannon–ribs exposed, intestines dangling, but he couldn’t feel pain and seemed to be doing fine, if you had a really loose definition of the word fine and maybe didn’t understand English real good. Fuck, no more jokes. Just tell him you’re sorry Clock. If you’re really gonna quit, at least do it the right way.

“Carlos,” said Dennis. “This is my fau-”

“Panacea,” said Armsmaster. “Heal Aegis, and he’ll take you to the hospital where you can get your foot treated.”

“No,” said Panacea, shaking. She tried to run, but collapsed as soon as she put pressure on her injured foot. “No. Leave me the fuck alone! I can’t do this anymore! I broke my fucking rules! I don’t do brains! I don’t fucking do brains!”

“I’m sorry,” said Dennis, reaching down to help her up. “If you want to blame anyone, blame me. It was my fault. If I hadn’t put the team in a vulnerable position, you’d have never needed to heal them in the first place.”

“Sorry doesn’t help me,” said Panacea, slapping away his hand. “Just let me leave. It’s best for everyone. Trust me.”

She wouldn’t even accept his apology. Fair. What good would his apology do her? The damage was already done. He couldn’t go back in time, undo his fuck up.

“I cannot allow that,” said Armsmaster. “Besides the Triumvirate, you are worth more than any other cape in the instance of an Endbringer attack. You are irreplaceable.”

“He’s right,” said Glory Girl, freshly freed from the containment foam. “And now that Tattletale’s gotten you over your mental block, you can be so much more. You can heal Dad!”

“Right,” said Panacea dully. “I’ll heal your father. As thanks. Then you have to let me leave.”

“No.” Glory Girl floated to Panacea. “I’m going to drop you off at the hospital, I’m gonna catch Everywhere, tear her apart for what she did to you, and then we’re gonna sit down and figure this all out. Whatever Tats was threatening you with, I don’t care. Frankly, I’m glad she did it, because it allowed you to get over your silly block with brains. I love you more than ever Ames.”

“Don’t,” Panacea said, taking a step back. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Victoria,” said Dean, yellow suds dripping off his armor. “Give her space.”

“We’re sisters,” said Glory Girl, floating closer. “Whatever Tats figured out about you, it doesn’t matter. I love you sis. We’re family. Nothing changes that.”

“Mom and Dad don’t love me,” said Panacea, staring at her wounded foot. It wasn’t bleeding anymore at least. “I’m not even related to any of you.”

“Mom and Dad love you Ames,” said Glory Girl, hovering closer, within arm’s reach of Panacea. “Tats was just trying to hurt you. It wasn’t true.”

“My real father was a villain,” said Panacea, still looking at her feet. “Whatever makes someone bad, I’ve got it in me, and that bitch saw right through me. Saw what I really am.”

“You’ve healed so many people,” said Glory Girl, her face inches from Panacea. “If only you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re the best person I know. And as long as we’re together, I’ll never let you forget it. You’re a good person Amy. You are a hero.”

Panacea finally met Glory Girl’s warm gaze.

“Freeze her!” Shouted Dean. “Don’t let them touch!”

Dennis moved, but it was far too late. It always was.

“I love you sis,” said Glory Girl, wrapping Panacea in a hug.

Panacea blushed, moaned softly, and melted into the embrace.

Glory Girl pulled away. Dennis shuddered. Her aura radiated anger, fear… something else… lust? “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“Please let me undo it,” Amy pleaded, trying to reach out and grab her. 

But Victoria hovered away from her, well out of reach. “What did you do? Tell me!”

“I… It’s… It’s not my fault,” said Amy. “It’s not my fault! If she hadn’t pushed me… Forced me to break my rules… I knew this would happen! I’m weak, I’ve wanted it for so long, I knew I couldn’t be trusted! That if I broke my rules, I’d do something impulsive and stupid. Without you, I’m just another villain!”

Victoria glared. “Is that why you refused to heal Gallant? Because of… Whatever the fuck this is?”

“No,” said Amy desperately. “I wanted you to be happy. I just knew… I’m not a good person, sis, you and Mom just forced me to be. Come back. I’ll undo it. Then leave. You’ll never see me again.”

“Why the fuck would I ever let you touch me again?” Asked Victoria loudly, her voice tinged with hysteria. “Who knows what the fuck you would do to me?”

“Please,” Amy begged.

“I can find someone else to fix it,” Victoria spat. “Or maybe, at the very least, I can show some fucking self-control and realize it’s my sister I’m having those feelings about.”

What? Feelings? Ohhhh….

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, this was actually happening wasn’t it? His historic fuck up might not have just destroyed the PRT’s reputation, it might have just broken up New Wave. Y’know it was fucking amazing. The Empire had spent a decade trying to take ‘em out, but ole Clockblock had done it in an afternoon through sheer incompetence. Fucking perfect.

“You can’t,” said Amy, crumpling. “You don’t understand what I did. Please. If you never ever give me anything else, if you never talk to me or look at me again, just let me fix this.”

Victoria looked down at her sister with pure contempt. “Good job, Amy. You just did an excellent job of taking every instance of me defending you, every instance of my giving you the benefit of a doubt, and proved me fucking wrong. You were afraid of becoming a villain? Of becoming Bonesaw? Congratulations, you’re not. You get to be the next goddam Heartbreaker.”

Victoria flew off.

Amy sank to her knees, and shuddered.

He had to fix this. But of course he didn’t know how.

Gallant walked to her. “It’s not over. You can recover from this. She’s just angry. She doesn’t understand how many times you’ve wanted to do it, and didn’t. How hard you’ve been fighting all this time. You were emotionally compromised, and you still tried to keep her away. I’ll find Vicky, talk to her. I don’t think you’re perfect, I don’t think you’re a good person, but one bad deed doesn’t make you a villain, it doesn’t undo the years of effort you’ve spent trying to do the right thing.”

Amy shook her head. “There’s no going back. I’m… I’m worse than Everywhere, worse than Heartbreaker… I…”

Clockblocker snorted. “Nah. Your sister is Victoria Dallon. Victoria Dallon! Who the hell wouldn’t be a little confused in your position? She was the first crush of half the boys in Brockton Bay, and a fair number of the girls too.”

“It’s not a fucking joke,” said Amy harshly. “What I did is unforgivable.”

“Clockblocker,” said Gallant warningly. But he didn’t tell Dennis to stop. Because Dean knew that Clock was surprisingly good at understanding other perspectives.

“Don’t ‘ Clockblock’ me, Gallant,” said Clockblocker lightly, so Dean knew he wasn’t serious. “Don’t feel bad about hating him, Amy. C’mon I hate him too. Just doesn’t seem fair, y’know, that Victoria would choose him. Worst thing is, he’s a great person, doesn’t that just make it worse? Can't even hate him without feeling like a piece of shit. Not endorsing what you did, just saying I understand.”

“It wasn’t who you are,” said Aegis, floating next to her, glancing at Clockblocker briefly. “The real mistake would be letting one bad decision define you, rather than a lifetime of good deeds. You’ve done a lot of good work, don’t forget all the people you’ve helped already.”

Aegis was right. About Amy. About him too.

“You failed Amy,” said Kid Win. “You fucked up with Victoria. Guess what, Clockblocker would’ve gotten me killed if it weren’t for you. It happens. My fuck ups have nearly gotten him killed a dozen times, but he always had my back. Made me feel like I was worth something, even though I’ve never won a fight. That meant everything to me. How many times have you bailed out Victoria? The only way that kind’ve bond disappears is if you let it.”

Dennis sniffed.

“If you can’t go back home,” said Vista. “You’re welcome here. It might do you some good, getting away from your family. Whatever you did to Victoria, Gallant and Kid Win wouldn’t be here without you. You saved their lives Amy. Thank you.”

“And mine,” said Gallant, stepping up to Amy, holding out a hand. “Despite hating me, despite wanting me gone, you saved me. Because that’s the kind of person you are. A hero. Join us. Become a Ward. I can monitor your emotions, keep you from spiraling. I can keep you from going bad. You’ll be happy here, accepted.”

“It matters Amy,” said Clockblocker softly, looking at each of his teammates in turn. “Having people who accept you at your worst. When they don’t need you, when they’ve got every reason to abandon you. Maybe that’s when you need them the most. Maybe that’s what keeps you going. These guys, what they’re offering- it’s what makes life beautiful. Take it.”

He was a hero.

He would never quit. Not on them. 

Today should have been one of the worst days of his life. It was already one of the best. On the day of his greatest failure, his friends stood by him. Any doubts he had about his place in the world were gone, there was no place he’d rather be than with the Brockton Bay Wards. He’d use his failure to become better, to become the best hero he could be.

“Thank you. Really. You’re all good people.” Amy’s smile was brittle. “Even you Dean. I’m happy my sister is with you. She can be happy with you. But none of you understand. There’s no keeping me from going bad. I am bad. It’s in my blood. It’s what I am.”

“What does that even mean?” Clockblocker asked, feeling a stressed smile form on his lips. “Nobody is born good or bad. That’s a result of our actions. And you’ve literally saved more lives than anyone here.”

Amy chuckled bitterly. “You just don’t get it. You wouldn’t. You’re a good person.” She rose, and limped away. She wasn’t actually leaving right? She couldn’t be. She was Panacea. She was Panacea. She couldn’t fall. Not from one bad day.

He nodded after her.

“Go,” said Armsmaster. “If she is in danger, freeze her, call for backup. Keep her safe, Clockblocker. At any cost.”

“Sir,” said Clockblocker, and off he went.

He followed Panacea in silence for about half an hour. Not saying anything. Not trying to convince her of anything. He wasn’t Tattletale. He wasn’t Gallant. Hell, he wasn’t even Aegis. He was the comic-relief, he didn’t know what to say to make things better. He wished there was something to break the ice. Anything. He didn't care what.

A flash of blinding light, and he was thrown off his feet by a wave of pressure. Thunder roared in his ears, so loud he could feel its vibrations with his whole body. Instincts kicked in, and Amy let out a startled yell as Clockblocker yanked her down by the collar and scrambled for cover, but after a minute he realized they weren’t under attack. What the hell had that been? An answer came from the sky. Four rising billows of dark smoke rose from opposite directions. Three were nearby. One was coming from the middle of the bay. Which meant…

There was only one thing in the middle of the bay. Nothing to worry about. The PRT headquarters had a forcefield bubble around it. No conventional weaponry could get through. Things were okay. They could go back to being okay. But just…

There were four clouds of smoke. And if somebody wanted to go after heroes, there were other spots that were vulnerable. That could be attacked. As he watched, the smoke started to coalesce into unnatural shapes.

Easy, easy, Clock. Things would turn out fine.

‘A’

‘B’

‘B’

‘TV’

Amy accepted his help to the nearest television.

“Hello world,” said a cape, with a noticeable Boston accent. She had asian features, but with pale blue eyes. He really didn’t like that she hadn’t bothered with a mask. “I am Bakuda, leader of the ABB. You’re probably wondering about the clouds in the sky. A demonstration. A reminder. A message. The Protectorate Headquarters. The homes of Sarah Pelham and Carroll Dallon. Arcadia High School. All gone. Vanished completely by my hand. Your Protectorate, your New Wave, your Wards- how can they protect you when they can’t even protect themselves?”

Bakuda was a cape. A bomb tinker determined by PRT intelligence. She could get through… She could get through the forcefield protecting the Rig. And Arcadia had always been vulnerable. The unwritten rules had kept it safe, had kept villains from considering it a target. Why had he thought that again? The school had always been in danger, and assuming that nobody would stoop to massacring a school to get at the Wards had been naive stupidity. Obviously.

Shit.

Who had lived? Who had died?

How the hell was he supposed to focus on anything until he knew?

He let out a steadying breath. Okay. He was a hero. That meant doing hard things. That meant doing the job. He’d had practice, he’d dealt with the situation with Dad. Not well, but he was actually more prepared than his teammates for handling this. Keep your head Clock. You’ve got a mission. See it done.

“They’re morons. Preening idiots whose best trait was knowing their place. You were retards to think they ever protected you,” said Bakuda, sneering. “My true enemy is not your heroes who have ignored us for the better part of a decade, nor even the Nazis of the Empire who wish to exterminate us. It’s Everywhere and her pet Undersiders. She killed my Lung. She killed my Oni Lee. She cuts open the heads of my most vulnerable henchmen- the elderly and the children, and marks their brains with her teleportation stamps so she can kill them whenever she desires. Despicable. Inhuman. Effective. If nothing is done, she will gain total dominance over my people, the asian refugees. But of course you don’t care, do you? None of you do. You never saw us as people, never sought to help us fight back against the Nazis, and then called us animals for doing what was required to survive. But we are a practical people. We never took it personally. We understood. You did not ask for us. We are not welcome. This is not our land. But… We will not allow ourselves to be exterminated like vermin.

“From now on, you will treat us as equals,” said Bakuda. “I’m throwing a party tonight, to celebrate our newfound status. Everywhere, Tattletale, Bitch, Grue, and Regent, you’re to be my guests of honor. Kaiser and Armsmaster, your attendance is mandatory. Bring that smug cunt Rune as well, while you’re at it. She requires a lesson in respect. As for the rest of the Empire and Protectorate, you’re invited as well, but if you choose instead to hide under your bed, I understand.”

Clock wasn’t running.

“However, should one of my guests of honor fail to show, I’ll be very displeased,” said Bakuda sweetly. “By which, of course, I mean I’ll detonate a bomb. A bomb with ten times the yield of the Tsar Bomba. I’m a fucking bomb tinker, and I’ll blow this shitty ass backwater off the fucking map. Remember I had you at my fucking mercy, I took your fucking ear, I know your fucking powers, I’ve seen you fucking bleed. You wanna kill me? You wanna take over my fucking gang, even though you’re not even asian?  Fine. Maybe you can. But I’m a sore fucking loser. Meet me at eight at Downey Elementary, or I’m knocking the board over and wiping us all out.”

Well… Kill order or not.

Bakuda had to die.

ooOoo

“How’s she doing?” Bitch asked anxiously. She’d been waiting for us by the door of the Undersider HQ. “Saw it on the news. Fucked up. Shouldn’ta left without her.”

Of all the Undersiders, Bitch had always been the gruffest, the meanest, but it appeared that she cared for her teammates more than she let on. Honor among thie- Bitch shoved Tattletale off Angelica roughly. Or not. Bitch inspected Angelica’s bullet wounds carefully, and didn’t spare either of her wounded teammates a second glance.

Unfortunately a paramedic caught Tattletale before she fell on the cement and disemboweled herself with the knife still buried in her stomach. Another was already guiding Regent to the ambulance. Still others carried the two asian girls to the ambulance to get their wounds properly closed and disinfected.

“We’ll have them patched up in a few hours,” said the driver. “We know you’re going to need them for tonight.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know yet? Just turn on a television, and you’ll see.”

I did just that, and watched the rerun of Bakuda’s announcement in its entirety. I shut off the news as the announcement looped over again. Bakuda had tried to sully my name, blame me for things she’d done, and of course the network had gone along with it. The Trio had pulled the same thing on me before, albeit on a much smaller scale, and back then it had felt like the end of the world. So why didn’t it bother me now? It probably just seemed trivial compared to what she’d said next.

She’d blow up the entire city if I didn’t meet her tonight, so I had a duty… 

…A duty to not be a complete moron. If I was dumb enough to show up at the elementary school I’d deserve to be blown up. I would bet my life that the bomb wasn’t even there. Probably somewhere else, harder to find, and set to explode when Bakuda’s heart stopped. I recognized her broadcast for what it was: a suicide note. She was probably hoping the Triumvirate would show, so she could make a name for herself by taking them down with her. She just wanted to go out with a bang and give me one last middle finger on her way down.

I wasn’t gonna give her the satisfaction. I wasn’t gonna let her get famous. I’d kill her tonight, and I wasn’t gonna let her drag anyone down to hell with her. A person like Bakuda didn’t fear death, but she was terrified of her life being meaningless. Even if people cursed her name for a thousand years, even if her own parents hated what she’d become, at least they’d remember her. I’d make sure that didn’t happen. I’d make sure that in a week nobody would even remember her name.

The problem was that Bakuda would have a deadman’s switch. If I killed her, it would trigger her big bomb and turn Brockton Bay into a crater. I’d have to take care of the bomb first. Find it, teleport it somewhere it couldn’t hurt anybody. Shit… I was gonna need Tattletale’s help, wasn’t I?

Well…

Fine. If it meant beating Bakuda, I’d suffer more of Tattletale’s games. Let her change me, make me feel… things… Bakuda would have cameras around her bomb. I’d need a cape who could provide some cover. Grue? Vista? Clockblocker, Kid Win, or Armsmaster were actually better candidates. Clockblocker might be able to freeze the camera, Kid Win or Armsmaster might be able to make the camera play a loop or something. But why would heroes ever work with me? From their perspective I was…

I could explain things. I’d have to. Enough that we could put aside our differences until the bombs were disarmed. Then came the satisfying part. I could finally kill Bakuda, which would end my alliance with the Undersiders, allowing me to finally kill Tattletale. Oh, that one was gonna be fun… Fun? No… Maybe not. Probably not. Definitely not. It would suck, and I’d feel horrible. All the more reason to do it. Tattletale had her hooks in me.

Bitch threw a heavy bag at me. 

“The fuck?” I asked.

“Your share,” Bitch grunted.

“Like I said earlier, I don’t want it.”

“You were lying,” said Bitch. “Saying fancy words to get on the team. You did your part; you get your share. Everyone wants fucking money.”

“I’m not in it for the money,” I said.

Bitch bared her teeth. “Fuck you. Why’re you still lying? You’re on the team. We can pull in bigger jobs with you- I get it.”

“I don’t want the money,” I said, throwing the bag of money back at her. “I don’t give a shit about it. I only robbed the bank because it’d draw out the ABB. I wanted to kill Lung, Oni Lee, Bakuda… They’re putting bombs in the heads of children. I’m tired of all the politics and rhetoric about stability and power vacuums and all that shit. There’s only one way to fucking save Brockton Bay, and that’s to kill the capes who are ruining it.”

“And did you?” Asked Bitch.

“I killed Oni Lee,” I said. “I’ll kill Bakuda tonight.”

“Good,” said Bitch.

And that was it. No talk of how I was rationalizing away being a serial killer, or how I was actually making things worse for everyone, or how I was undercutting a system I didn’t understand. Just ‘good’. Good. The comfortable silence was interrupted by a ringing landline. I waited for Bitch to pick up the phone. She didn’t. Great… Fuck…

It was probably important. It could be Tattletale telling me that the Protectorate had tracked me back to HQ. Or maybe the ABB had discovered our location. Or maybe she knew where the bomb was, and I had a short window of time to disarm it. 

On the other hand…

What if I picked up the phone and it wasn’t her? It’s not like I’d ever been trained to take calls as a supervillain- not that I was one- and hell, it wasn’t like I had much experience talking to people in general. Just Dad and Lisa for two years. And so, like, taking the call would probably be kind of awkward and so I like totally wasn’t gonna do it.

I let it go to voicemail feeling thoroughly pathetic. The caller hung up. The phone rang again. I probably should’ve expected as much. Well, it’s not like anything had changed. I could do this all day. Nobody could force me to answer the call. I’d defeated Lung, the Wards, and Oni Lee, I wasn’t gonna lose to an inanimate phone with no powers. It rang again. Was it just me or was it getting louder? I could almost feel the irritation of the caller just from the ringing.

“You should probably pick it up,” I told Bitch. “It could be important.”

“I’m not touching that thing,” said Bitch stiffly.

Fucking Bitch. Afraid of a simple conversation, ridiculous. And she called herself a supervillain? Pathetic! The phone rang again. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did it have to be so loud? Dammit. What if it was Tattletale? Wasn’t there supposed to be a way to check who was calling? Star eighty-two? Fuck. It’s not like I’d ever had a need for caller ID before, what with my total lack of both friends and money. So um, did you like have to pick up the phone- fuck, I’d accidentally taken the call. I waited for the caller to speak. The line was silent.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t live here,” I said, panicking. “I think you may have the wrong number.”

“Everywhere, I assure you that I do not. I am Coil,” said an actor in Tattletale’s pocket. “Tattletale has briefed me on your desire to improve the city. About your plan to take over the ABB, to legitimize and expand it so you have rule over all the asian refugees.”

… Uh…

Why had he said that? What kind of mindgame was this? Why hire an actor, and tell him to tell me things that were too absurd to even piss me off? It was senseless. On the other hand, if he was real, and she wanted me to take him out she’d absolutely lie about my motives. A surprise attack would be our only chance.

But of course, it could all be a trick. The whole point of this conversation could be to convince me Coil was real. And if he was a fake, Tattletale would have scripted his answers to seem real. If he was real, well then his answers would just seem real because they were. I wouldn’t learn anything from the conversation.

“Yes,” I said, my mind racing. Best to play along.

“We’re birds of a feather,” said… Coil? “I wish to take over the city, and rule it well. I believe our goals are compatible, mutually-beneficial. We can be partners. Work with me, and you will see your people prosper. Make an enemy of me, and I will make it my mission to exterminate them.”

Why was he pretending to take that absurd goal seriously? Even if I wanted to take over the ABB, which I didn’t, I couldn’t. I was Taylor Hebert, the bottom of the food chain at Winslow, so pathetic and weak I couldn’t even overcome three dumb highschool girls. Nobody would ever follow me. 

“I’m sure Tattletale has tried to poison you against me,” said the man on the phone. “I can assure you that the two of us will never share a room together. You likely know my power, its weakness. But I’ve come into possession of another thinker. Should you even plan to move against me, I will know, and I will have you killed.”

Okay… I had to give credit to Tattletale. If this was all a ruse it was an effective one. Have her actor threaten my life, make him nearly unbeatable, yeah that made me think he was real, because it’d be just my luck.

“Did you really recruit Tattletale at gunpoint?” I asked.

Coil chuckled. “When I found her, she was a homeless, paranoid, runaway who had no idea how to use her powers. A starving, dirty, street urchin. She was using her powers to get into the bank accounts of wealthy men. Irrational, I know, but there was a certain logic to it. A proxy revenge against her father.”

I… I didn’t like to think of Tattletale that way. Low. Pathetic. Beaten down. It was just wrong.

For all the ways she’d tried to play me, Emma had never tried to make me think we were on the same level, even as a trick.

Tattletale couldn’t be weak. She couldn’t even pretend to be weak as a ruse. It didn’t make any sense. She was supposed to be Emma with superpowers, but…

“Can you imagine using your powers for such a pathetic purpose?” Asked Coil. “And yet most capes can only imagine using their powers to destroy. We are the rare ones. I know from your vision for the ABB that you seek to use your powers to create as well, or I would never be so forthcoming. You understand. I gave her a job. I showed her what she could be. I gave her value. Without me she would be nothing. Certainly, she would be dead by now.”

More admissions of weakness. Emma would never do it, but Tattletale might. But then, Tattletale was far more than Emma could ever dream of being. Tattletale’s whole stunt earlier today, preying on my better nature, showing she could… 

… Improve me… 

… Making me doubt…

Everything.

The good, and there was good in Tattletale, made her a far more terrifying monster than somebody outright malicious. 

“But to answer your question, yes, I recruited her at gunpoint,” said Coil. “It was the only way to help her. She was too proud. Compliance through fear was her only path. I forced her to become a better person, to curb her worst impulses, to get through the darkest period of her life. She will never forgive me for that. For giving her help, when she needed it most. She will try to destroy everything I’ve ever built, no matter the harm it will cause.”

“Then why keep her around?” I asked.

“She’s useful,” said Coil lightly. “For now. I’ve scheduled a meeting with the heroes and villains of Brockton Bay at Somer’s Rock in two hours. Be there.”

He hung up. Well then… I was simultaneously completely sure that I had to kill him while being totally convinced that he was a completely fictional ruse from Tattletale to force me under her control. If he was real, I’d have to work with Tattletale to take him down. I couldn’t hope to take on a Thinker without the help of another, and doing nothing about him would lead to Brockton Bay falling to villainy. And if he was fake, and I fell for the ruse, then I’d just be allowing Tattletale to control me indefinitely. She’d already used me to rob a bank, kill a child, and cut open the skulls of two more.

Whatever else I thought about the conversation, I appreciated the invite, because Bakuda was the more immediate threat. My mission, clearing out the villainy in Brockton Bay, was already difficult. I didn’t need an unnecessary war with the heroes. I could explain why I’d done what I’d done at the meeting. Get everything cleared up, maybe. Maybe not be treated like the next Bonesaw, that would be nice. More importantly, I’d probably need their help to get rid of the bomb and save the city. I retreated to the bathroom, and stared into the mirror.

“Hi I’m Everywhere,” I whispered. “I’m not trying to take over the city or anything. I just want to take out Bakuda. She’s lying about me, she was the one who put bombs in the childrens’ heads, I was just getting them out. I was actually trying to save the kids. I can teleport things, but they’ve got to be exposed to the air. So that was why I had to cut open their heads.”

Yeah, no… Nice try Taylor, but no. Actually, terrible try. Not only would I utterly fail to convince any heroes to my cause, but I’d be explaining the intricacies of my powers to all the villains of Brockton Bay. I didn’t want them to know how my powers worked. Given the small possibility that Coil was real, and his powers were as Tattletale described, my only chance to take him out would be deception. 

I’d need to talk with Tattletale about what she’d told him and get our ducks in a row. She’d had the good sense to lie about my motives, but I could already tell that he was suspicious. With his powers, a delayed kill would be my best chance. I already had a vague plan about how to pull it off, but it wouldn’t work if I gave Coil too much information. It would be to my benefit to oversell the limitations on my power. Not outright, that would be too obvious, but implied, so when he uncovered it he’d think he’d gotten one over on me.

If Tattletale was just playing me, I could always take her out later. If Coil was real though, if he really had another thinker on his side, then killing him would be a long operation which would start with the misinformation I planted at the meeting. That would have to be my primary objective. Explaining myself would be secondary.

With that in mind, I continued to rehearse. I’d iron out the details with Tattletale, come up with a plan.

ooOoo

“Yes, the knife just appeared in her hands,” the dockworker repeated. Armsmaster would have preferred to check on HQ. Bakuda’s terrorism had likely cost him the majority of his tech, a crippling blow. Luckily, the most important tinkertech he possessed was his combat-simulation software and Dragon had backups. Unfortunately his nano-thorn halberd was likely lost. It left him feeling hollow. Doubtless there would be several new agent positions to fill, perhaps a new boss to answer to, and overly-emotional Wards to babysit, which would be tedious as well. Instead he was in a smelly backroom in a defunct ferry station. If that didn’t describe being a superhero, nothing did. “The ABB is just the start, sir, I think she’s planning on taking over the city. With respect, she’s got more support than you might think. A lot of people just see Oni Lee dead, and excuse her crimes. I know it’s not my place, and I’m sure you’re going to do it already, but I think publicly announcing a kill order for Bakuda and Everywhere would cut into her momentum. Show that the PRT is willing to get its hands dirty, do what needs to be done.”

Civilians. They got such funny ideas.

“Squirter will be dealt with in due time,” said Armsmaster. “Her successes can be better attributed to our lack of information than any real excellence on her part. Given an understanding of her powers, I could bring her to justice with ease. You sharing what you witnessed has brought me one step closer to that goal. That is commendable.”

“With all due respect,” said the dockworker. “You’re underestimating her. Minimizing her impact, the damage she can cause. If you give her a slap on the wrist, it’ll only enable her. I understand you need to take care of Bakuda, but just tell me that if we make it through you’ll get Everywhere a kill order.”

Perhaps. Perhaps not. As it stood, every option was in play for the new cape. Squirter stood dangerously close to a kill order, although not for the reason the naive dockworker thought. If Panacea’s foot injury festered, Squirter would suffer the PRT’s full wrath. She’d get a kill order and the Triumvirate on her head. Killing Kid Win or Gallant would likely have warranted a trip to the bird cage, although he privately suspected he’d have gotten a call from Director Costa-Brown suggesting that he not involve himself, and leave her capture up to the Wards. As for executing the asian child on national television, well…

Most people couldn’t handle the truth. What their safety cost. The reality of their situation. What it would take for humanity to survive.

He suspected that the good Director Costa-Brown was privately pleased with Squirter’s actions, even as most within her organization violently opposed it. Easy to be moralistic when you’d never led, never fought any real battles, never killed a dozen good men with selfish sympathy.

The children had fired first. Civilians who attacked a cape unprovoked were unilaterally given kill orders. No excuses, no exceptions. Their age was irrelevant. Whether the policy was good or evil was debatable; its necessity was not. Most capes could be brought down by gunfire. Easily too. There were approximately 900 million guns circulating in the US. Civilians could easily wipe out the majority of parahumans. Anti-cape sentiment was high. Allow one child to kill a cape with a slap-on-the-wrist, and you’d set a precedent. The gangs would start hiring child soldiers, and soon you’d have local militias gunning down capes they didn’t like. Lung, Kaiser, Hookwolf, there were any number of parahumans that would be inevitably gunned down.

And capes, even monsters like Squirter- especially monsters like Squirter- were humanity’s only chance against the Endbringers. Lung was an excellent example. A criminal, a monster, the worst person you’d ever meet, and exactly who had been needed against Leviathan. If the Kaisers and Squirters of the world were allowed to be brought down by simple gunfire, then whatever hope of turning things around against the Endbringers would be reduced down to zero.

Executing children was a horrible thing. Letting their crime go unpunished would likely set a precedent that would directly lead to humanity’s doom. Nobody was happy about it, but there was only one path forward. Kill them. Failure to do so would be driven by cowardice, not ethics.

If Squirter hadn’t executed those children, then it would have been a matter of convincing the other villains of the city to do it. And if the villains failed, then the responsibility would have fallen to the PRT. Discreetly of course, unofficially. Perhaps a word to a contractor, one of the hidden branches of the PRT, and all the capes they employed less publically… An ugly act to be sure, but one that had to be done. What were a few children to the survival of their species?

If only they could find a cape capable of neutralizing an Endbringer, then they could afford to be more humane. But no such cape existed, not on Earth Bet, not yet.

Armsmaster’s best guess is that the PRT hoped to remain tolerant of Squirter, and would rather keep the doors open for collaboration in the future. They’d issue a warrant for her arrest, threaten standard jail time, and order him to give her a scare- frighten her into following the unwritten rules like a good girl. That was all dependent on the fact that she wasn’t the next Bonesaw. He doubted it. He’d seen the body of the girl she’d shot, warped beyond recognition, and suspected it had been a mercy kill. There was no evidence that Squirter had spatial warping powers. Bakuda and her bombs seemed a more likely option. No, he shouldn’t be weighing outcomes, any conclusions were premature until he had more evidence.

Luckily, truce rules were in effect, and all the major capes would be meeting at Somer’s Rock in an hour. He’d have normally skipped it, he had no intention of working with villains, but Coil had assured him that Squirter would be there. Armsmaster would give her a chance to explain herself, which would ultimately determine whether or not she was given a kill order. Of course, coaxing strangers wasn’t a strength of his, so he’d yielded to Battery’s request to be brought along.

“The PRT will uncover the facts of the case,” said Armsmaster. “And once we’re sure what she’s actually done, we will work with the courts to determine an appropriate punishment. If they give her a kill order, I’ll execute her; if they give her jail time, I’ll capture her; if they determine she’s innocent, I’ll recruit her. I don’t determine policy. I follow orders.”

“And I respect that,” said the dockworker. “I really, really do. But a lot of people don’t. My daughter doesn’t. A lot of my friends here don’t. They’re losing faith, Armsmaster. They think our courts are soft on criminals because they don’t have to live in the areas affected by the gangs. And then Everywhere appears from nowhere, and now Lung and Oni Lee are dead. Results move people, a lot of people. If you tolerate her presence, they’ll just see it as more evidence of the PRT’s impotence.”

“I know,” said Armsmaster. “People are losing faith. Yes. They need a win. Yes. For every hero, myself included, there is a temptation to go rogue and do what I think is best without any input from others. No mettling superiors, no laws to hold me back. But I believe in the PRT. I believe in the system, and I won’t abandon it because it’s being tested. In fact, that’s all the more reason to hold firm.”

“Right,” the dockworker said, steel in his voice. “You’re absolutely right. A child sees redtape as a hindrance, an adult understands its importance. Reckless escalation might solve the immediate problem, but when you look broader, farther out, you realize that the system’s checks are there for a reason. You’re the hero this city needs Armsmaster. Whatever anyone says, know that some of us appreciate the work you do for us.”

Armsmaster allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction at the unexpected victory and even took the man’s number. Having a contact from the less fortunate side of the city seemed a prudent decision. Already, he’d learned that taking credit for Lung had been a misstep, and that his suspicions about the city’s decay were well founded. More than anything, something deep in his gut whispered that a relationship with the dockworker would be useful. He wasn’t normally one to rely on instincts, but in this case it was a harmless indulgence. One of the last low stakes decisions he would make today.

The next six hours would determine his legacy. From Miss Militia and the mayor, to the hardworking laborers like Danny Hebert, the fate of the city rested in his hands. He had to be good enough to save everyone. 

That was what it meant to be a hero.

ooOoo

I was going over possible interactions at Somer’s Rock, starting to get a little worried about whether Tattletale would return in time, when the landline rang again. Thank god.

“Hey Tay, it’s Lisa.” Fuck. Fuck, couldn’t it fucking wait until after the meeting, after I’d dealt with Bakuda? I did not want the emotional baggage of getting dropped by the first friend I’d made in years distracting me going into the most important six hours of my life. But hey, what else could I expect? I was Taylor Hebert afterall, the universe’s plaything.

“Hey,” I said. It wasn’t fucking fair? Why now? Why not tomorrow? How the fuck had she even gotten this number? It wasn’t fucking fair! 

“I saw you on the news,” said Lisa. “They’re not painting you in a positive light, trying to say you’re murdering children. But it was Bakuda wasn’t it? She puts the bombs into the children’s heads, and you did what you had to to save people?”

“I…” I swallowed. “I haven’t gone villain, Lisa! You were the one who told me I needed to team up with some other capes, remember? And the Undersiders aren’t so bad, they were the ones who saved me from Bakuda, helped me get my ear reattached! They’re just in it for the money, and um… Tattletale, the one who was fucking with Glory Girl, she was recruited at gunpoint by her boss. She was even the one who showed me how to save the kids! Hard as it is to believe, everything I’ve done has been to take down the ABB.”

Lisa was silent for a moment. “Is that really true? Remember Tay, you can lie to yourself; you can’t lie to me.”

“Maybe,” I said. “The Undersiders have a boss. Coil. He’s bad news. He’s planning on taking over the city. He’s got the power to split the timeline in two, and choose the one he prefers. He says he’s got possession of another thinker. Probably has them hooked on hard drugs, might have taken their feet off so they can’t run. Can’t get help from the heroes on this one, he’s already infiltrated the PRT, and his powers would tip him off if I did. I think if I can-”

“Taylor,” said Lisa. “Stop talking. The phone might be bugged.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’re still a child Taylor, playing a game you don’t understand. Maybe it’s time to go back to the kid’s table, and leave the real decisions to the adults.

“Are you still on my side, Lisa?” I asked. “Bakuda’s bomb threat is my fault. I pushed her into a corner. If I didn’t take down Lung and Oni Lee, she wouldn’t have-”

“Don’t take responsibility for the actions of others,” said Lisa. “It’s a trap that bad actors use on the gullible to neutralize them. Don’t fall for it. Bakuda is the one who deserves blame for her actions. You didn’t force her to put bombs in people’s heads, you didn’t force her to join a gang, and you didn’t force her to threaten to blow up a city. Those were her decisions.”

“Tattletale told me I was messing with a system I didn’t understand,” I said. “Maybe there was a reason the heroes didn’t do anything about Lung.”

 “You’re misinterpreting-” Lisa cut herself off. “Look, people like Brian, Tattletale, they liked Brockton Bay the way it is. It’s a place that’s safe for criminals and capes. That has to change if the city is ever going to get better for the average man. You think that the gangs are just going to lie down and take it? No. Saving the Bay was always going to mean war. You kill an asshole, expect one hell of a deadman’s switch. It’s probably gonna suck, but if you let that deter you it just means a slow death.”

“I almost killed two Wards,” I said. “I robbed a bank. I killed a child, Lisa. And I felt nothing. No sorrow, no remorse, nothing. Emma won, Lisa. She broke me. I’m a monster.”

Lisa was quiet then. “There is a monster in you Taylor. Something dark, destructive, and maybe that’s not a bad thing. Kindness, empathy, forgiveness, none of that took down Lung and Oni Lee. It won’t get rid of Bakuda. You did, with all your darkness. But you can also be kind, more self-sacrificing than any hero. I’ve got some friends in the asian community. They know what you did.”

“That I cut open the heads of two children?” I asked, giggling. “That I put stamps in their brains so I can kill them at my leisure?”

“That you saved two children,” Lisa whispered.

“Only for Bakuda to blow everyone up,” I said. “Saving a couple kids doesn’t matter. Nothing I do will ever make a difference. All I can do is blunder around and make everything worse.”

“You’re trying to use your power to help people,” said Lisa. “You’re not using it for your own gain, your own fame, or even to feel better about yourself. You’re doing the best you can. That’s all you should ever ask of anyone.”

“I was given this power for a reason,” I said. “I have to be better.”

“I’ve heard that the heroes and villains are meeting at Somer’s Rock,” said Lisa. “You could explain everything there. Clear your name.”

And start making moves against Coil. My redemption started at the Rock. I couldn’t go there with any worries, with any doubts. Maybe that’s why I was unloading on Lisa. Get everything off my shoulders before having the most important conversations of my life. I had to convince the heroes I wasn’t a psychopath, and oh yeah bluff a thinker about my powers or the city would be fucked in a few months. So yeah, I was pretty worried.

“Or,” said Lisa. “You could go somewhere else. You know those friends I’ve got from the asian community? I heard that they’re gathering ABB members Bakuda implanted. I could take you to them, help you save them, but you’d have to miss the mee-”

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “I’ll go with you.”

“Do you understand what it’ll cost?” Asked Lisa. “You’re a powerful cape, the PRT is gonna give you every benefit of the doubt. You could probably talk yourself out of a killorder, maybe even avoid being labeled a criminal. They don’t want conflict with you anymore than you with them. You could be a rogue. Get some journalists to repair your image, be seen as an antihero by the public. And this might be your only shot at-”

“I know,” I said. “I know. I don’t care.”

“I know you don’t,” said Lisa. “And that’s why I’m on your side, Tay, because you’re the real deal. You can lie to yourself; you can’t lie to me. You’re a hero. And that’s rare, that’s one in a million. The Wards, the Protectorate, they’re good people, they’re doing their best, but they’re not heroes, not like you. I’ll always be on your side. Always. Even if you turn on me, I’ll be on your side. Don’t forget it.”

And for one beautiful, perfect moment- the first since the locker, since Emma had betrayed me, since Dad had forgotten I existed, since Mom had died- I allowed myself to believe that somebody actually cared.

Lisa was the kindest liar I’d ever known.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Big thanks to TwoPence for betareading this chapter and helping me edit it.

I watched the rock I’d stamped sink into the murky depths of Brockton Bay. Lisa had borrowed her dad’s motorboat and driven us to the middle of the harbor. It wouldn’t have the firepower of the Atlantic portal, but the water still had a depth of about 400 feet. Sufficient for my purposes I suppose, which was primarily to have a secure location to teleport Bakuda’s brain bombs. Naturally I’d done the calculations- basic preparation- and a depth of 400 feet would give my geysers a disappointing strength of only about 180 psi. For reference, water from a fire hose typically had a pressure between 116 and 290 psi.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Asked Lisa, a hand pressed tightly against her stomach. “You can incapacitate without killing.”

Had I said that aloud?

“Of course,” I lied. That said a fire hose typically had a diameter of a few inches at most, I could make my portals much larger so I wasn’t exactly defenseless. And against anyone stupid enough to get too close to me, being teleported to the bottom of the bay would still be a death sentence. Not against Glory Girl though, if she wanted a rematch I’d be helpless.

“None of the capes are going to pick a fight with you when Bakuda’s got a hydrogen bomb pressed against all our necks,” said Lisa.

“And what about tomorrow?” I asked. “And the day after? I killed a kid on national television and ditched the chance to explain myself. Once Bakuda’s handled, I’ll be public enemy number one.”

I steeled myself.

“Which is why I’m cutting contact with you,” I said. “Brian was right. I’m dead. You’re not getting dragged down with me.”

Lisa sighed. “No.”

My chest felt warm, my shoulders relaxed, and an empty exhaustion slipped off my back like droplets in a shower. Everything felt lighter, easier. I’d always thought Odyssius was an idiot, but when confronted with an actual siren song, I finally understood the temptation to steer your ship straight into the rocks for just another moment of that blissful, ignorant peace. “This isn’t a discussion. I’m cutting ties. Sorry.”

Lisa drove the boat, the only sound was the howling wind and water crashing against the hull. We rocked back and forth against the waves. “Because you’re not strong enough to protect me?”

“I’m not,” I said, wind and brackish bay water stinging against my skin. “It’s just reality. I’ve made too many enemies. You’ll die if you keep hanging around me, and I’m not letting that happen.”

“You are powerful,” said Lisa. “You’re the strongest cape I’ve ever heard of. Because real strength isn’t about superpowers; give a man a fighter jet and a few years to train, and they’d have more combat potential than all but a handful of capes. Yet for all his utility, he wouldn’t hold a candle to a parahuman.

“No, real power comes from presence. Can you make people bend to your will? Are you ruthless enough to make people fear you? Are you compassionate enough to make people love you? And are you wise enough, smart enough, to turn their obedience into victory? It’s rare, Tay, real rare.

“You can’t protect me,” said Lisa. “Not alone. Because alone, we are powerless. If you want to change the world, save Brockton Bay even a little, you’re going to need help. And people will help you Taylor, people will follow, if you give them the chance. Dozens of surgeons have already volunteered for your cause.”

It all sounded good. I desperately wanted to believe her, to keep the one friend I’d made, but I knew bullshit when I heard it. Maybe I could believe I was a decent cape. Maybe. It might even be feasible that I had a knack for combat. But leadership?

A kind liar was still a liar. I liked Lisa too much to listen to her.

“It won’t matter,” I said sullenly. “It’s all futile. Even if we get the bombs out, they’ll still die from infection. I’m a cape. Glamorous. I know you want the connection, but there will be other capes. I’m not letting you throw your life away.”

Lisa laughed, winced, and clutched her stomach wheezing. The small motorboat bumped against the pier. They secured it and Lisa awkwardly clambered out to call her dad on a nearby payphone. Her smile fell away.

“It’s for you,” said Lisa, handing me the phone, studying me closely.

“Where the fuck are you?” Tattletale demanded. “Biggest meeting of capes in Brockton Bay history, and you decide to play hooky? You made Grue look like he didn’t have control of his team, and I had to search for you when I could’ve been gotten the dirty little secrets of every cape in the fucking city. Had to track down your little friend to even get in contact with you. Coil is not happy that you skipped out on his meeting, but we both lucked the fuck out. A powerful cape is up for grabs, and as long as we get her on the team all will be forgiven. And in case you haven’t realized, it’s Panacea. It’s fucking Panacea. She used her power to give Glory Girl the hots for her, declared herself a destined villain, and now she’s trapezing around the boardwalk feeling sorry for herself. Good fucking luck, asshole!”

I reeled at the bombshell.

“Tattletale,” I said softly. “Leave now. If you ever contact the Wilbourns again I will hunt you down, and I will kill you and your entire team. Am I understood? Yes or no.”

I heard the low drone of a disconnected dial tone. Tattletale had hung up on me.

Lisa looked stricken.

“Should I kill her on sight?” I asked. Luckily for me, I must’ve been warming up to Tattletale, because I’d actually thought a stern warning might suffice. Foolish, I know. In the end, I was still far too soft to lead anyone. But if I’d been smarter, she’d have seen through the lie and would have been on guard. If Tattletale didn’t want me to find her; I wouldn’t. But due to my naive stupidity, I still might be able to kill her.

Lisa shook her head frantically.

“Of course,” I said, understanding her hesitation immediately. “She’s got a team. They probably know too. I’ll play it cool until I’ve got them near me. No, that won’t work. Tattletale can basically read minds. I’ll have to make sure that I get Tattletale alone, and then I can take the rest of them out after. Clean up any loose ends. I promise I’ll do that for you, Lisa.”

“No,” said Lisa with a smile, but her trembling betrayed her fear. “That’s not what I want. The Undersiders have been good for you. They’re your allies. Friends. You need them.”

I snorted. “You’ve got a soft heart Lisa. But they’ve crossed a line. They’ve threatened someone close to me. Again. Perhaps the rest of the team can be salvaged, but Tattletale has to die.”

“Tattletale isn’t that bad,” Lisa said. “You even told me that she’d been recruited at gunpoint.”

“I was lying,” I said. “Tattletale is a bully. She finds where a person is most vulnerable, and uses it to hurt them. You saw what she did to Panacea on the news. She tried to do the same to Glory Girl for no other reason than to prove she could, to prove her own superiority. She’s smart though, like Simurgh-lite levels of smart. She can use her powers and superior intellect to say exactly what you want to hear, to get you wrapped around her little finger. Spend too much time around her and she’ll have you mastered. If I leave her be, she will take over the city, Lisa.”

“Jesus Chriiiiiiist,” said Lisa, throwing up her hands, wincing, and pulling them back into her stomach. “While I’m sure she would be flattered that you’re actually taking her seriously, I really really think you’re overstating her intelligence. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but Tattletale is not a fucking god. She’s got a talent for shit talking, but half the time she’s just making shit up and hoping it sticks. Did I say half the time, I mean all the fucking time. When it works, she just plays it cool, pretends that she totally meant for that to happen, but really she doesn’t have a fucking clue. How could she? People don’t make any fucking sense and never have! If she were that smart, if she could really anticipate your every action, would she really have pulled that stupid stunt or would she have maybe, just maybe, thought of a better fucking way of sharing that Coil had told her to get Panacea? God knows it would’ve been really, really fucking easy, and there were probably a thousand ways she could have done it that wouldn’t have enraged you. I bet she’s feeling pretty, pretty dumb right now.”

“She can read minds,” I said. “She’s not just making things up. Short of the Simurgh, she is the most powerful thinker in the entire world.”

“Cold reading,” said Lisa bitterly. “She’s just got good intuition. She’s not even the smartest person in the city. With Faultline around, she’s probably not even top three.”

“Nonsense. Tattletale is an evil mastermind,” I said declaratively. “Keenly analytical, every interaction is a carefully orchestrated ploy in her superhuman plot. She’s anticipated my every move, considered my every suspicion, and has made it her mission to bend me to her will. Make me think she’s on my side, only to betray me in the end. Not that I’m at all necessary to her schemes, I’m just a game to her.”

“Or maybe she just wants you to like her,” said Lisa.

“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “And once she’s proven she can get past my defenses, she’ll dispose of me.”

“Yeah,” said Lisa. “That makes total sense Taylor. Betray the single most dangerous cape in the city for… um… Why exactly? Wouldn’t that absolutely just get her murdered? Why not just play nice, y’know keep an unbeatable partnership going and ride it out to total domination? Strange how you consider her to have godlike intelligence one moment, and then have her acting like a complete moron the next. Have you considered that maybe she’s just a regular person, who made some mistakes when under extreme pressure?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think that’s it at all.”

Lisa just didn’t understand. 

“I think I know Tattletale better than you do, Lisa,” I said firmly, ending the discussion. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter. For now, we’ve got one mission. We’ve got to find Panacea, and convince her to join us”

Lisa nodded with a smirk. “Neatly taking care of your infection concerns about the surgeries. Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go corrupt the city’s greatest hero.”

We found Panacea in a mall, nibbling lifelessly on a half eaten pretzel on an otherwise empty table in the middle of a busy food court. For the single most powerful cape in Brockton Bay she didn't cut a very imposing figure. She was hunched over in her seat, gaze downcast, looking thoroughly uncomfortable in her own skin.

I wasn't really sure how to do this. As I stood awkwardly- meticulously analyzing every pitch I might have for the potential recruit, weighing their pros and cons like it was a math problem- Lisa casually slid into the seat next to Panacea. Lisa made it look so easy, approaching a stranger. Probably because it was, just not for me. Most people had had more than two friends in their lives; most people knew how to be people. I’d never quite figured out how to be a person- probably why nobody had saved me from the locker, why nobody had ever tried to stop the bullying.

I was happy for them. Really, I was.

Panacea would be a better cape for Lisa. Everything she was looking for. Lisa wanted to follow a powerful parahuman, and Panacea’s power was just as unfair and bullshit as Eidolin’s. It just hadn’t been apparent when she’d been limiting herself, but anyone with half a brain would know it now. If, in a single moment of weakness, she could do something as subtle as change her sister’s brain chemistry in such a way as to be attracted to her specifically, it suggested an altogether different power than healing. It suggested she was capable of general biokinesis. 

She was Bonesaw if Bonesaw didn’t need tools or prep time. Think of all the applications! With her powers, I could solve the city’s Bakuda problem in a few minutes. I could defeat all the city’s villains in an afternoon. I could change the world to my liking. But I didn’t have her S-rank power. My portals would never amount to a fraction of what Panacea could do. Compared to her I was a worm.

I’d used my piddly ass power to murder people, and had become the largest villain this side of Jack Slash. Panacea was essentially a god, had chosen to be a benevolent one, and was the city’s most beloved hero. The restraint she’d displayed was admirable, and with Lisa’s guidance I truly believed they were capable of changing the world for the better.

God, she would even appeal to Lisa’s soft, gentle heart. With what she’d done to her sister, Panacea seemed broken. Lisa would be compelled to fix her, just as she was compelled to fix me. I didn’t resent Lisa for that, it made her a good person, it just meant that she’d mistaken her desire to help a person in need with genuine friendship.

I doubted Lisa would abandon me, she was too good a person to pull an Emma on me, but with access to a superior cape distance would grow between us. It seemed inevitable. The kindest person I knew, and the world’s greatest healer, they deserved each other.

It was probably for the best. Panacea would have all kinds of people in her ear from now on, she needed a Lisa to keep her head on straight.

“I'm not going to heal you," Panacea snapped, not looking up from her pretzel. “And if you're here for someone else, I'm not going to heal them either. Just leave me alone.”

“Oh we're not here for that, we're here to offer you an opportunity. To help you grow, to show you how to…” Lisa shot Panacea with a comfortably familiar vulpine smile. “Break the rules the right way. You’re like a priest’s daughter, so repressed, finally off to college. Drinking, drugs, fucking around, just doing everything you always wanted without any restraint. Consider us a sorority, a real shitty one, full of party girls. We both know you’re never gonna be able to go back, not after your first hit, so why not learn to be a smoooth criminal?”

Panacea turned away from Lisa. “Not interested. Get lost.”

“Are you sure you want to be saying that?” Asked Lisa. “I’ve got intel that I’m like, 80% sure is correct. Donchya wanna hear about your dear parental units one and two? Carrol survived. Mark didn’t. Sucks right? That it wasn’t the other way around?”

“Shut up,” growled Panacea. “I’m not going to join your gang- I don’t care what you try to tell me.”

“Now, now, now,” said Lisa. “That’s no good. You’ve gotta be realistic Amy. Take it from someone who’s been there, life on the streets ain’t fun. Your hair gets greasy, your skin gets dry, your feet get blisters, clothes get dirty, and for pretty girls like me, just finding a safe place to sleep is hard. Luckily you won’t have to worry about that last one. I can offer you a roof, some money, a few capes to watch your back, all for a little bit of healing. And let’s be real, you can’t go back home. Not after what you did. Not after you crossed a line reserved for the real monsters.”

Panacea curled in on herself. I frowned. Lisa didn’t really feel… Nice. At all. Which could only mean that I’d misjudged Panacea. Maybe she didn’t deserve kindness after all.

“Yeah, we know about what you did to Glory Girl,” said Lisa. “You think you’re the lowest of the low. You’re wrong. You’re not there. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Panacea whispered, utterly vulnerable.

“Not yet,” said Lisa. “You shouldn’t hate yourself for what you did in a moment of desperation. Hate yourself for what you do after. We’re going to ask you to do something good. If you don’t trust your own judgment, call your bodyguard over, have him verify that you’d be doing a good thing. There’s no trick. You’re going to let us use you, and then Carrol Dallon is going to give you the opportunity to fix Victoria, and you’re going to do it.”

Only then did I notice someone in white armor watching us. Clockblocker. I felt my stomach flip. It had been a good thing we’d come unmasked. He’d have never let us approach if he’d known who we… who I really was. Anyone could be observant, it wasn’t like Tattletale had a monopoly on being intelligent. I didn’t have time to entertain crackpot theories in the middle of a mission.

Panacea scowled. “She’ll never let me anywhere near her. If she’s even still alive.”

“You’re going to come up with excuses,” said Lisa. “As you did just now. Come up with all kinds of reasons not to do what we ask. And you’re going to know that they’re all bullshit. You’re going to make decisions that you know are the wrong ones. That’s the point of no return. Will you let us help you or not?”

“Fuck off,” said Panacea.

Lisa shrugged and stood. “Fine. I tried. I gave you an out. Just like Clock did. People like you get a million chances to do the right thing. You deserve everything that’s coming to you.”

It was frustrating. Lisa was trying so hard to help her, and Panacea refused to even consider her words, even though they were obviously true. Some people just wouldn’t listen to reason.

So what do you do then? What was a society to do with people like Panacea, deviants who spat on the compassion of others, who had every opportunity to do the right thing and still chose to do wrong?

I put on Everywhere’s mask.

“Join us,” I said softly. “Or die. Your choice.”

Panacea scrambled across the bench like she’d been shot. Fair. I had shot her earlier today. Of course, some distance would do her no good. If she disobeyed, I would kill her. She was an S-rank threat in infancy. She’d displayed no indications that she had any intentions of changing her ways. Dealing with her now would be easiest.

There was a clatter of steel boots against linoleum, and Clockblocker was by her side in an instant, glaring at me. His voice trembled a little. “I’m done being pushed around by assholes. Done letting serial killers get away with shit. Done being seen as some joke. Worst you can do is kill me, and I promise I’ll try and kill you. We’re under truce rules right now. Violate it, and you’ll have every cape in the city after your head. Even if you beat me, you won’t survive the day.”

“Join us,” I told Panacea again. “Or die. Your choice.”

Panacea trembled. “Fi-”

Clockblocker lunged at me. I blasted a geyser under him, big as I could make it. He was flung over me, but his armor mostly protected him when he slammed back down onto the mall’s linoleum floor. He was up in a hurry, a few clocks in his armor cracked, screaming civilians running past him, a few confused fish flopping around helplessly next to him. I turned. He wasn’t the target.

“Well?” I asked Panacea.

Panacea ran, stumbled over her feet, fell. Answer enough, I suppose. I reached into my sweater, applied a stamp to a tennis ball, and lobbed it at her.

“Fine,” Panacea said, clutching herself in a fetal position. The ball bounced past her. “Fine. I’ll do what you want. But I’m not going to kill anybody!”

“I’m not asking you to kill anyone,” I said, frowning. “Why would you even think that? We’ve got a way to save the asian refugees that Bakuda implanted, but we need your help.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Clockblocker asked, still on guard. “Is this some kind of trick? Why the hell didn’t you just say that?”

“Because she would’ve said no,” said Lisa, giving me a thumbs up. “She doesn’t give a shit about other people. Just herself. Her own happiness. Her own security. Threatening her was the only way.”

“I don’t believe that,” said Clockblocker. “Amy has given more to the ci-”

“Past good deeds do not excuse past crimes,” I said. “If she refuses to reform, then yes, she is a problem. She won’t change her environment, she won’t get support, she won’t make amends. So I’m applying pressure. Maybe it doesn’t work, in which case she’s too much of a threat to be left alive. Wait much longer, and even the Triumvirate would be helpless against her.”

Surprisingly, they all looked at me like I was crazy.

“What,” I said. “It’s true. You’ve got the abi-”

“You’ve got the ability to alter all carbon-based forms of life as you see fit,” said Lisa gleefully. “A true biokinetic. Along with a perfect understanding of biomechanics. That’s how you heal. It’s a small subsection of your power, you could change things just as easily as you could restore. That’s what your mastering of Glory Girl represents. You could create an army of mindless slaves. In a few minutes you could create a plague that could wipe out all of humanity! It’d be easy-peasy, like stealing candy from a baby.”

Panacea seemed to consider it. She scowled.

“So what?” Asked Clockblocker. “It’s not like she’d ever do any of that. Believe it or not, we don’t actually have to use our powers to be giant dildos.”

He stared at me for support.

“I agree,” I said. “Killing everyone brings her no closer to her actual goals, and is a blunt, unimaginative use of her power. Panacea is far more likely to use her power to attain something she actually wants. She’ll finish the job she started with Glory Girl, applying more drastic changes until Glory Girl actually loves her.”

“Impossible,” said Clockblocker. “Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Victoria won’t let her get anywhere near her. Amy can’t fly. She’s not invincible. Her powers take too long to work to be useful in a fight.”

I glanced at Panacea. “You’ve got Clockblocker right there. Get a hand on him, knock him out, master him like you almost did to Glory Girl. Command him to put Glory Girl on pause. After he does, you make your approach.

Panacea had seemed to grow even angrier.

Clockblocker was regarding me strangely.

“Fine. Something more clean. There’s a parahuman named Newter that secretes a powerful hallucinogen out of his skin. Knocks people out on contact. Get a sample, find out how to make some flies resistant to it. Newter is resistant to it, so it’s possible. Cover a few flies in the hallucinogen, and then make them attracted to Glor-”

“Shut up,” said Panacea. “Shut up! Stop it! Stop giving me ideas!”

“Oh please,” I said dismissively. “Like you haven’t thought of all this yourself. We’ve all had these thoughts before, we just… I dunno. Obviously there’s a reason that most capes refuse to fully utilize their powers. Right?”

Silence.

Right? Some unspoken code I was violating by using my power effectively. I know for a fact that Panacea, Glory Girl, Aegis, Vista, Clockblocker, and most likely Kid Win had better powers than me. Shadow Stalker was probably on par. Why the hell had they let me kick them around? Was there some law? Tattletale’s obviously bullshit unwritten rules? What was I missing?

Why was Oni Lee the only cape I’d fought or heard about who’d actually used his powers with anything approaching basic intelligence?

“I mean, obviously the PRT is holding you back,” I said to Clockblocker. “You’re one of a handful of capes capable of killing an Endbringer. You know that, that’s why you’re always acting like an obnoxious jackass, because you know they have to put up with it. That’s how you got your name; a power play, testing boundaries.”

“Well now I know you’re making shit up,” said Clockblocker, still playing stupid.

“Vista spreads some invisible wires across the battlefield. Maybe two skyscrapers. Someone acts as bait,” I said. “Get it running at you, freeze the strings at just the right time, and you can cut an Endbringer in half.”

“There’s no way my powers extend out that far,” said Clockblocker, almost defensively. “It’s not that deep. The PRT isn’t about to turn down help, even if I’m a bit of a jackas-”

“No, they do.” Lisa considered the possibility. “The problem is that we don’t know if the Endbringers have regen or not. After fighting Eidolin for so long, they’ve got to be pretty adaptable. You’d only get one shot at it. I wouldn’t want to waste it on their legs, not even on the opportunity to cut one in half.”

“Full restraint then,” I said. “Constrict them like the AT-AT’s in Star Wars, then blast them as hard as we can.”

“Get Rune or Vista to transport the wires across the battlefield,” said Lisa. “And then have Miss Militia drop a few hydrogen bombs on their ass. I still don’t think it would be enough. You wanna tell me that Eidolin has never hit one of them with anything that hard before?”

“Alright, enough,” said Clockblocker. “Miss Militia can’t create fucking nukes. This is fanfiction bullshit.”

“She can,” said Lisa.

“It’d just be a start,” I said. “Shadow Stalker can make things phase through walls. Why not have her phase the h-bombs so they detonate inside him?”

“Too heavy,” said Lisa. “She isn’t capable. You’d have a better bet having Armsmaster and Kid Win work together to make some kind of tinker-tech that could expose the Endbringer, or finding a blaster that can break the Endbringer’s defenses.”

“So there you go,” I said, shrugging. “I’m sure they’ve got you training together, powers get exponentially more dangerous when allowed to synergize. Afterall, Eidolin gets three, so a set of five or six capes with decent powers should be able to match his output if properly trained and utilized. They’ve probably got something more elaborate planned, but even if you didn’t kill it, you’d be useful against an Endbringer.”

“That… That might be plausible,” Clockblocker admitted, pretending he hadn’t already considered the option. It must’ve been enough to get him to trust us, because we were finally able to get moving. Lisa led us to the ABB shelter, but Clockblocker had a few more questions for me.

“Why are you doing all this?” Clockblocker demanded. “Why rob a bank? Why nearly kill two of my teammates?”

I explained the plan. All of it, except for Coil.

“Maybe I get where you’re coming from,” said Clockblocker. “Bakuda sucks. She blew up my fucking school. I don’t know who was still there for sports, clubs, detention. Don’t know which friends are still alive, which teachers. She blew up our headquarters too. The PRT isn’t just the capes, there were a lot of good people in there who she killed. Dunno if I’ll ever be able to shoot the shit with Dimitri again, ever get to unload my day on Doctor Yamada. You wanna kill the ABB, good. I do too. But I can’t agree with your methods. You could’ve come up with something better, less cruel. You would’ve killed two of my friends if Amy hadn’t saved them. They’re good people. They didn’t deserve to die.”

And then he shocked me.

“And neither do you. Your plan ends with you dead nine times out of ten, and I really doubt that that’s a coincidence. Taking out the villains one-by-one is retarded and will never actually work. It’s going to get you killed.” Clockblocker steadied himself, gathered his resolve, stared right into my soul. “You’re just trying to commit suicide, aren’t you?”

… I…

But the truth was that everyone thought about killing themselves sometimes. It wasn’t as rare as people liked to pretend. Maybe I’d even idly planned out how to do it, but that wasn’t the same as actually doing it. Maybe I’d looked at a rope, thought about what it would be like to wrap it around my neck, and hang myself, but I’d never actually spent any time researching how to tie a noose or how I’d secure it to the ceiling. I doubted the fan in the living room would even be able to hold my weight, and if you didn’t break your neck in the fall you were bound to suffer a slow and painful death by asphyxiation. Aspirin I’d probably just throw up. I didn’t know how to secure a gun. And I’d never just sit there and let a cape kill me. Besides, killing myself in too-obvious a way would let the Trio know they’d won. I could just picture Emma giving her condolences to my father, with that same smirk she’d given me after the locker. Sickening.

“Life doesn’t have to be miserable,” said Clockblocker, his gaze flickering to Panacea, then back to me. “You don’t have to hurt yourself to help people.”

“You’re wrong,” I said quietly. But I felt I owed him a little more. “You’re describing a kind world, but not the one we live in. Bakuda. This isn’t the first time she’s done something like this. Cornell. She’s a tinker. She needs time to prepare. Executing her a month ago would have been easy. Why didn’t you?”

Clockblocker shrugged. “You’re right. A kill order should have been placed on her a long time ago. I’m not going to defend the prote-”

“Not the Protectorate,” I said. “You. You specifically.”

“I…” Clockblocker said. “She didn’t have a kill order.”

“That’s not an answer,” I said.

“Precedent,” said Clockblocker. “Public relations. Retaliation. Tactics. The fact that it’d probably mean starting a war with the villains that would get a lot of innocent people hurt. And if I’m being honest, trying to pick a fight with her would’ve been suicide when she was flanked by Lung and Oni Lee. Not to mention that even if I somehow take her out I’m a criminal.”

“So you did nothing,” I said. “And Bakuda took advantage. That’s the thing with bullies. We’ve got this stupid belief that they’re cowards. They’re not. Assholes, obviously, but not cowards. They don’t stop when confronted. They escalate, make things painful, get their friends to join, maybe even threaten you legally. You wanna pretend that psychos don’t exist, what happens to the victims?”

I mimed a gun with my index finger, and shot it into the ground.

“She gets a bomb in her brain and a bullet through her skull. Flat lined. Dead. No happy endings here. This is Brockton Bay. This is the Docks,” I said. “The truth is, I don’t even have a sob story. The girl I killed earlier today, she’s got a sob story. But nobody gives a shit- not really- not enough to actually do something about it.

“I don’t think you’re a coward Clockblocker,” I said. “I don’t think the PRT is evil. It’s following the will of the people. It’s following the law. I’m sure all those Asians with bombs in their skulls will be pleased you’re so law-abiding and merciful to poor misunderstood Bakuda.”

Clockblocker gave a slight nod.

“Taking on a bully is never safe,” I said. “You will get hurt. Your friends will get hurt. A lot of innocent people will get hurt. But the question isn’t about right and wrong. We both know what’s right. The question is whether you can still do what’s right even when it’s hard. When it’s painful. When it might just kill you. I know my answer. Do you know yours?”

“My answer is not to listen to any of your pathetic bullshit,” said Panacea rudely, her voice screeching, nagging, and irritating. “You fucking shot me in the foot. You robbed a bank. You don’t want to stop bullies; you want to become one. What’s the difference between you and Bakuda?”

“I haven’t been putting bombs in people’s brains,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“Yeah,” said Panacea sarcastically, stubbornly refusing to consider anything I’d told her. “A geyser through a brain is so much diff-”

“Is Brockton Bay really that bad?” Asked Clockblocker quietly.

“Let me show you,” said Lisa. “The areas of town that for some reason never come up during patrols.”

The conversation lapsed, and we silently followed Lisa to a warehouse near the boat graveyards. 

Clockblocker’s steel boots clinked against the shattered sidewalks that had needed to be repaved a few decades ago. No construction company would ever take a job in the Docks. Any green space was covered with white plastic trash bags that almost looked like half-melted snow. Garbage trunks didn’t come to the heart of ABB territory, and many of us didn’t have the means to take our trash to the dump. We passed a homeless encampment, with houses built out of discarded cardboard boxes. Strung out men with leathery sun-dried skin lazily watched us pass.

I suppose it’d look bad to someone used to the polished veneer of the boardwalk, but you got used to it. Most of the homeless addicts weren’t dangerous, and you learned streets to avoid when you lived in the area. Lisa was purposely gallivanting through the worst the Docks had to offer- places you wouldn’t normally visit under any circumstances- knowing that with two uniformed capes at her side she was completely safe.

When we finally arrived at the warehouse, I thought Lisa had been tricked, it certainly didn’t look like a gathering. The parking lot was empty, but for a few of Coil’s vans, and a few mountains of piled up garbage. If this really was a huge gathering, where was everybody?

Hiding?

Lisa pulled open the doors and revealed a few thousand haggard huddling Asians of all ages. Clothes decades old, hand stitched, eastern in style. Shaved, scarred heads. The ABB. What it looked like without its bullies.

Hushed whispers at my appearance.

“This is a trap,” muttered Panacea, taking a step back. “A trick. A ploy. She’s evil. Don’t listen to her. Don’t hear her. She’s just trying to manipulate you Amy. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it.”

Clockblocker caught her wrist as she started to run.

“What?” She snapped. 

“Test them,” said Clockblocker calmly. “We can’t ignore the truth.”

“You’re…” Panacea said, her voice rising with every word. “You’re on her side, aren’t you? They’ve gotten to you. Corrupted you!”

“Thousands of lives are on the line,” said Clockblocker evenly. “Heroes don’t run.”

“Fuck off!” Panacea said, swiping away his hand. “I never would’ve been in this position if you hadn’t fucked up. If she hadn’t shot me. If that bitch Tattletale hadn’t made me break my rules. This is all your fault!”

“Y’know, it does get tiring being right all the time,” said Lisa. “This is how it starts. A decision you know is the wrong one. Tell me how it feels when you hit rock bottom, I’m curious.”

Panacea scowled. “So what? Maybe I am a monster, whatever. I’m not gonna follow the orders of a villain.”

Enough talk.

“Very well,” I said, applying a stamp to a tennis ball. “You know the consequences of disobedience. Are you prepared?”

Panacea glared at me for a moment, measuring me. I let her. If she really wanted to die, I’d oblige.

“I fucking hate you,” Panacea hissed, limping to an elderly asian man and holding out her hand. “Fucking evil bitch, asshole, cunt. Liar.”

She placed a hand on his forehead and scowled. “Well? You retards got any surgeons, because my power won’t let me cut open skulls. The most efficient way to do this would be to organize roles. Surgeons here, some folks prepping stations here and here, teleporter here…”

Credit where it’s due. Amy Dallon may have been an irresponsible, blame-deflecting, whiny little bitch, but when it came to taking point in a medical operation she was top notch. She quickly explained roles and responsibilities needed for a smooth operation. A handful of surgeons nodded. Mostly white and indian, but a few other races as well. Apparently Coil, for all his faults, wasn’t a racist.

“Anyone who can speak dual languages, please come forward,” said Lisa. “We need translators.”

For a moment, the Asians looked at her blankly. Eventually a large young man stepped up.

“I can translate,” he said. “Mandarin, Korean, and Japanese. But I get my bomb removed first.”

“Children first,” I said. “Then the elderly. Then men and women. Your service is appreciated.”

“No deal,” he said.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” I said. “If Lisa or Panacea tells you to do something, you do it.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” said the man.

There always had to be one. Fine. I put a stamp on the warehouse’s floor. Opened up a geyser right outside, about three feet wide, arced about three stories. Nothing compared to the Atlantic Portal, but still fairly deadly. I closed up the portal after a few moments.

“Next one’s going through-”

The Asians surged forward, panicked. I could hardly blame them, the entire situation was a powder keg, set to explode if Bakuda realized what was happening. And I’d just sent a geyser of water three stories in the air, stupid, idiotic. Why not shout what I was doing to the whole city; that’d be a lot less obvious. The man hadn’t been trying to question my authority, he’d just been scared shitless. Did I ever get tired of being a moron? Nah, I lived to fuck everything up.

I’d tried to use fear to create a smooth operation, instead I’d created a mob. Disorganized, frightened, children pushed aside as the mass stampeded for me, as people became animals.

“Me,” said a large man, scrambling towards me, knife out. “Get it out of me. Now. Then I leave you alone.”

No choice then. I opened up a portal beneath his feet. Let the geyser rip him upwards a dozen feet before he tumbled down, smashing against concrete under an inch-deep puddle. He’d managed to mostly shield his head with his arms; they’d shattered on impact. He didn’t move. Blood and murky water from the depths of the Bay mixed together.

Great job Tay. A giant bloody mess, just what you need when you’re about to mass produce brain surgery. Well, at least the ABB members had been frightened into submission. They followed our orders without complaint. Lisa and Panacea worked together to get everyone in position. Multiple surgeries running in parallel, while equipment and stations were prepped for the next operation in parallel. As soon as a surgeon exposed a bomb, I teleported it, and Panacea cleaned and closed the wounds with her powers. It took a little while, but eventually everyone fell into their roles, and our operation played out like a symphony. Maybe a dozen bombs a minute. Not enough, we needed to be faster. Faster. Get this done, so I could disarm the biggest bomb, kill Bakuda.

“Tay,” said Lisa. She tossed me a riot shield. “Just in case.”

ooOoo

Clock couldn’t even appreciate the hypnotic sway of Lisa’s perfect ass as she led him out of the warehouse. What a shitty day. Get exposed to real evil for the first time, then realize it wasn’t even that bad compared to what was out there. The world wasn’t shades of gray, it was shades of black.

Not that he’d turn her down of course. A dime was a dime, even on the worst day of his life. But his heart just wouldn’t be in it.

“If I had to pick a Ward,” said Lisa, winking at him. “But unfortunately for you, and men everywhere, god’s gift doesn’t swing that way. I’ve got important business to discuss, from one cape to another.”

Damn. Clock strikes out again. Well, at least she was nice about it, her rejection didn’t even… Wait what?

“I’m Tattletale,” she said, shooting him a vulpine smile. “A key member of the infamous Undersiders!”

Clockblocker scrambled backwards, put his hands over his ears.

Tattletale threw her head to the moonlit sky and cackled. “Now that’s more fucking like it! Finally some damn respect! A week ago you wouldn’t have even know who I was.”

“We had your records on file a week ago,” said Clockblocker, flushing. He may have been a bit lazy, but he knew the damn capes of the city.

“Did you now,” purred Tattletale. “Then tell me? Who am I? Who are the Undersiders? Really?”

“Small time thieves,” said Clockblocker. “Hit-and-run tactics. Played by the rules. Benign.”

“Brrr! Wrong!” Said Tattletale, crossing her arms in an x. “Completely incorrect! The correct answer is that I’m Sarah Livsey. As for the Undersiders, you’re wrong about them as well.”

She pulled his hands off his ears, her bottle green eyes laughing.

“How did we form? Why? These are very, very important questions.”

“What does it matter?” Asked Clockblocker. “Why did you unmask in front of me?”

Tattletale smirked. “Finally a halfway decent question. The answer, of course, is because it makes no difference. I’m becoming more trouble than I’m worth, especially since I just became replaceable to my boss. My identity is gonna be leaked soon. I give it a month, tops. Still, I’d prefer that you kept my identity a secret from your organization. If my employer realized his strings are worthless, he’ll seek a more permanent solution. So be a good little Clock- don’t say anything, don’t try and fix anything- just freeze like you always do.”

“Who?” Asked Clockblocker, a thousand thoughts whirling in his mind. An implication he didn’t want to confront. “Were you threatened into service? You… You can join the Wards. We could always use a thinker, and we’ll protect you from the person who’s threatening you. Whoever they are, they’re not as strong as the PRT.”

Tattletale’s laughter was full of misery. “Oh Clockblocker, dear Clockblocker, poor simple-minded Clockblocker. So quick and so slow at the same time. Have you not realized it yet? Who you work for? Who we work for? Our master?”

“W-what are you trying to say?”

Tattletale smirked. “That for one night, you and Vista are the most important capes in the world. Feel bad about letting down your team? Congratulations hero, you get to redeem yourself! Bakuda’s bomb. I know where it is. I can tell you how to neutralize it. I can help you save Brockton Bay from its greatest villain. But. You’ll owe me a favor. One. Do we have a deal?”

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“Oh Clockblocker, dear sweet Clockblocker, I would never lie to you,” said Tattletale, crossing her fingers in front of him.

Fuck it. 

“Fine,” said Clockblocker, taking the first step down the slippery slope. Not like he had a choice.

Tattletale smirked. “Here’s where the bomb is, I’m like seventy percent sure…”

And she didn’t just tell him where to find the bomb, she told him how he could disarm it. Clockblocker felt like he was falling. Keep Panacea safe. At any cost. Those had been the orders Armsmaster had given him.

He hadn’t realized the price. Not something so small as his life. No, the cost was the entirety of Brockton Bay. His mom. His dad. His friends. Everyone.

It was too steep. He’d be leaving Amy with the most dangerous cape he’d ever met, and the single most manipulative. That wasn’t even the most fucked up thing about it. What was fucked was that a large part of him was convinced that Amy would be safer with the Undersiders than with New Wave or the PRT.

Were they the Bay’s greatest villains? Or the Bay’s greatest heroes? He didn’t even know anymore.

“Dennis,” said Lisa softly. “Don’t tell anyone you lost Panacea. Don’t tell anyone I helped you. Don’t try to examine the infiltration. He’s a precog. If anyone asks about us, pretend we’re the villains you thought we were before you met us. If things go according to plan, you’ll understand why.”

Bakuda had blown up his school, Everywhere had almost killed two of his teammates, but Tattletale was the scariest. In a few sentences she’d ripped apart the lies that made his reality.

He ran. 

ooOoo

“Umm…” said a young asian man, tattooed, with strong corded arms, and horrible bleach blonde hair which wasted his looks. “We were just wondering what you want us to do? Patrol like usual? Expand? What do you want?”

I wanted him to get out of my face. Not that teleporting bombs was really that hard, but if I was even a moment late I was afraid one of them would go off. I couldn’t afford to let myself get side-tracked with a meaningless conversation. That said, their hearts were in the right place.

“Start escorting some of the children home,” I said. “Search for any holdouts that might have been skeptical of my motives. Convince them to come here. We want to bring in every member of the ABB. Get everyone freed from Bakuda’s influence.”

“Yes sir.” The man bowed, and led a group of thirty or forty out of the warehouse. Mostly young men wearing red and green. It was almost heartwarming. A few days ago they might have been mistaken for a gang of thugs, now they were out helping people.

“We’re not as bad as people make us out to be,” said a young prostitute with a caramel complexion. Her good looks were mostly wasted by what she wore. A tube top that left her belly button exposed, her skirt covered maybe a quarter of her thighs, and she had a piercing through her nose. It was sad that creeps like Lung had forced her to dress like that. “I’ve got nothing against the other races. Whites, Blacks, other Asians. That’s how most of us feel, you know? I heard what Bakuda said on the news.” 

“I won’t let her do it,” I said, teleporting a bomb out of a forty-something balding man with crooked teeth and a wrinkled decade-old tanktop. “Once I’m done here, I’ll disarm her bomb and kill her. Make sure she never does anything like this again. You have my word.”

“Good,” said the near-naked prostitute. “Good. Fuck Bakuda. I don’t care what she said, I’ve got a good feeling about you.”

I didn’t know what to say about that, so I just continued working. I noticed that a number of the ABB members were staring at me. When I tried to meet their gaze they looked away. Was I not working quickly enough? Did they blame me for what I’d done to the little girl, to Lung? Or for not killing Bakuda sooner?

It was hard to blame them. I’d had my shot on the night I’d first met Tattletale…

… Tattletale…

Fuck, I’d told her I’d kill her if she went after my dad. Then she’d went after Lisa’s. Pushing me, playing mind games. I had to kill her… I had to kill her… Give a bully an inch, and they’d take a mile… But I didn’t want to kill her, not anymore.

Something hit me. Someone had thrown something at me. Not too big, not too hard, but definitely solid. I looked down. A wad of twenties held together with a rubber band laid on the floor.

“Payment,” said an old woman, with curls of thin silvery hair. “For me, Kenji, and Mika. Thank you. But no gang. No gang. Will go through school, will take respectable positions. No gang. Please. Please.”

I frowned. The refugees eyed me warily. I threw the money back at the elderly woman. She flinched. Bowed, groveled.

“Please, please,” said the woman at my feet. “Meant no offense, please, please. No gang! No gang!”

… Oh…

She didn’t want her grandchildren forced into a gang. So she was paying me… So I didn’t force them into a gang. 

My gang.

…Okay, so yeah, I’d forgotten that I was a cape. Nobody would follow Taylor Hebert, but apparently they’d follow Everywhere. Especially after Bakuda had told everyone that I was trying to take over the ABB on national television. I knew it had been a trickto turn the public against me, but the ABB didn’t. It had backfired; turned the ABB against her. They’d deserted Bakuda to join my ranks.

They thought I’d taken over the ABB.

So… No. And by no, I meant hell no. I was putting my foot down here and now. There was no way I wanted to become some douchebag tyrant. Everywhere was supposed to hunt down and kill all the power-abusing bullshit bullies in Brockton Bay, not replace them. I couldn’t lead. I didn’t need to lead. Without some superpowered asshole telling girls to fuck strangers and telling guys to push hard drugs, the community would recov-

A double helix of blinding white light cut the warehouse in half. 

The elderly woman’s torso slid apart, her burning intestines spilling on my feet, cries of misery from her grandchildren. Screams, as the victims I’d been saving stampeded out of the warehouse, as the roof started to collapse on top of us. I opened up a portal on the ground, shot a geyser at the ceiling, kept it from falling on top of us, the torrent of water forcing it to topple in the opposite direction.

“Like animals,” said a contemptuous voice from the sky. 

A cape descended like an angel, hair and eyes shining like a miniature sun. There were a lot of reasons Tattletale had told me to run on sight if I came across this particular parahuman. She was the premium flying artillery cape in Brockton Bay, and flying artillery would give me problems. My stamps couldn’t reach someone in the sky, and with ranged attacks there was no reason for them to venture close to me. Worse was Purity’s fighting style. An unfortunate mixture of viciousness and defensiveness. I couldn’t bait her into flying close to me like I had with Glory Girl, Purity would keep her distance, but fight to kill. To put it simply, she was my single worst matchup in all of Brockton Bay, someone who I’d run from if I were smart. She also wanted to exterminate the people I’d just sacrificed my career to save.

It was an impossible challenge, but I had no choice. My lips tugged in an unfamiliar, almost uncomfortable way, and I couldn’t help but wonder.

Why was I smiling?

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Big thanks to Two Pence for beat reading and helping me edit this chapter.

I hacked. Smoke in the air. Hard to see, hard to breathe. A tangle of humanity- a mass of wreathing arms and legs- pushed me forward, as they surged away from Purity. Then stopped. Despaired. The buildings around us had collapsed, their rubble burning. Burned dark, like it was being fueled by gasoline. This had been a planned, coordinated attack, with an intent to exterminate. We were surrounded by a ring of fire. No way to escape, nowhere to run. Ambushed. We’d been hemmed in, trapped. Trapped. I shuttered.

“Taylor,” I heard Lisa cry. “Use your geysers to extinguish the fires. We’ve got to run. You can’t beat Purity.”

A beam of searing light cut through the smoke, killing dozens of us in seconds. Fresh blood stained my shoes and sizzled on the hot concrete.

Men, women, elderly and children all cried out in terror and despair. They had put their trust in me, and I’d failed them. Got them killed. No- not yet. Not fucking yet!

I ground my teeth. Glared at Purity. Using her power to be a bully, to hurt people.

Just like Bakuda. Just like Bakuda.

I opened up a portal underneath Purity’s glow as big as I could manage. I might have splashed her a little, but Purity was too high to receive much of the blast, and flew away from it in a streak of white light. I opened up another portal. The geyser didn’t even get close. Purity stayed up high, refusing to get in my range. She knew my tricks from my televised battles with the Wards and Oni Lee.

Energy gathered in Purity’s palms, glowing balls of light shining through the thick smoke. I opened up a geyser under the closest part of the ring of fire, extinguishing the ring in one place, giving us a path to escape.

“Give me your best shot!” I screamed up at her, abandoning the Brockton Bay portal to open up a patchwork of portals on my riot shield, turning it into a reflector shield. Children huddled around me, as a blinding flash of light cut the smoke around us, blasting through concrete, disintegrating anyone in its path. I angled the shield back at its source, and huddled behind it as the blast overtook us. We were surrounded by blinding white light.

The light show stopped. A few children fell away- dismemebered or disemboweled- not quite able to make it to the shield’s protection, and Purity’s light still shined above us, her glow clearly visible even through all the smoke. Fuck! I ground my teeth as the people around me wailed.

Purity moved in a blur to the opening in the fire. Blocking the exit I’d made, the only escape out of the massive ring of fire.

“Everywhere,” Purity said, her voice projected to be heard over the fire. “Are you white? Taylor is a good christian name, but perhaps you’re one of those trying to mimic our culture.”

Disgusting. Charred children at my feet, a reminder of all the civilians I’d be getting killed if I fought here. Probably couldn’t win regardless. Purity would pay, but not now.

“I can disarm Bakuda’s bomb,” I said, calm as I could manage. Tattletale all over again, forced to work with someone I despised. Although Tattletale was an angel compared to an actual fucking nazi. My molars hurt, I forced myself to unclench my jaw. “But I’m not leaving without them. Let us go, let me save the city, kill Bakuda.”

“Bakuda’s largest bomb has been neutralized by the Protectorate,” said Purity. “But the heroes failed to capture Bakuda. They let themselves get fooled by appearances- pretending that the ABB were civilized left them vulnerable when Bakuda blew up her own followers. The first wave they sent in got taken hostage, and now the PRT is paralyzed- they won’t even let the rest of us do what’s needed.”

“Let us go,” I said. “I’ll find Bakuda. Kill her. Finish the job.”

“Yes,” said Purity. “You killed Lung and Oni Lee. A commendable act, ridding the city of monsters and filth, but was it done out of the goodness of your heart, or was it a grab for power? I’ll allow you to pass with the children- they’re innocent in all this. But you will leave anyone over sixteen with me. Let me end this. Return Brockton Bay to what it was, before they came and brought drugs, prostitution, and barbarism to my home, to the doorstep of my family .”

“I’m not letting you kill them,” I said.

“These are thieves, rapists, drug dealers,” said Purity, contempt dripping from every word. “Terrorists. They tried to blow up the city. They allowed Bakuda to turn them into walking bombs, using their innocent appearance to get in close to the best of us, and turned the best man I ever knew into dust. They’re animals. That’s who you’re protecting.”

Perhaps some were. Not all. Probably not most. How many had been forced into it by Lung? By Bakuda? How could a random civilian say no against a bully with super powers? Especially in a city infested with psychos like Purity, who’d slaughter them without ever asking them for their side of the story.

I couldn’t just let her kill them. Couldn’t leave them at the mercy of any other cape with a grudge. I’d be leaving the best to be slaughtered, and the majority to seek refuge under any parahuman who’d offer them protection. Not good people. They’d be forced to do terrible things. To themselves. To others. I couldn’t let that happen. It was my duty. My purpose.

Had to speak the language of Brockton Bay, no matter how much I despised it. Had to make everything clear.

“They’re my people,” I said. “They’re under my protection. You can’t have them.”

I chucked a rock at Purity. She sliced it apart with one of her nazi beams, and I reflected it back at her with my riot shield. She dodged easily, a streak of white light rising vertically, throwing a laser into the opening in the ring I’d created to ignite it, surrounding us in fire once more.

“Clockblocker,” I screamed. “Freeze the fire.”

And if he couldn’t do that, he could form a bridge over the fires using whatever we had on hand. My screams weren’t answered by Clockblocker, but by another barrage of lasers, chunks of concrete the size of basketballs spraying away from the impact. Another dozen dead.

A boy- no older than ten- clutched my hand desperately, hacking from the smoke.

I wondered if he’d just lost his mother, but my musings were cut off by another blast, gravel pelting me, cutting me, but I’d avoided any large bits of shrapnel. My hand jerked. The boy hadn’t been so lucky, his left shoulder had been torn from his torso, his innards spilt on what was left of the parking lot.

Men panicked, ran into the fire, burned alive. Their screams didn’t sound human. Purity’s beams were a mercy compared to the fire.

Where the fuck was Clockblocker? Maybe these people were ABB, maybe we were scum but we didn’t deserve this. Maybe he was dead, maybe he refused to help. Didn’t matter.

I was on my own. Against my single worst matchup in all of Brockton Bay. Even Tattletale had told me to run if I ever found myself facing Purity. Escape was still possible. I could get a stamp over the ring of fire. I could retreat.

Helical beams of white light cut through the smoke slicing apart men, women, children. Another fifteen dead. No. I couldn’t just leave them. Could I teleport them out? No- too slow. Maybe I could put out the fire? Worth a shot.

I stamped a piece of gravel, threw it into the fire. What could I use to smother the fire? Water? No, none around. Dirt? Didn’t have any dirt. All I had were chunks of overturned concrete. Teleported them onto the fire. Didn’t do shit. What else did I have access to?

Corpses. I teleported the bodies of the dead onto the fire. We’d escape on the backs of the dead. There’d be a certain poetry to it. More blatant symbolism for me to ignore. Never mind. Should’ve known it wouldn’t work. The fire raged, only growing stronger from the casualties I’d fed it.

Panacea stared at me. Terror and hatred in her eyes.

Purity ignited another twenty.

I deserved Panacea’s scorn. I’d been trying to put out the fire so we could escape. Run from a bully. Couldn’t run. Wouldn’t.

Taking on a bully was never easy.

Purity’s glow shined like a star, a thousand feet high in the sky. What was I to do? None of my attacks could reach her. With all of us trapped like fish in a barrel, she could rain down her attacks with impunity.

I could win in two ways. One was to get a stamp close to her, and drop a brick on her or something. The other was to get her to shoot one of her beams at me and reflect it back at her. According to Tattletale she was squishy, if you could get close enough to smack her.

I needed a way to get a stamp into the sky. I had a couple tennis balls in my pocket, but I couldn’t throw them high enough to even get close to Purity. I had Panacea, but aside from healing the injured, I couldn’t think of a way that she could use her powers in this situation. Maybe give one of the kids wings using one of the corpses for biomass? If I could get my stamp on a flier, maybe together we’d be able to get her.

Hmm…

Nah…

Bad plan, Tay, bad plan. Reckless, stupid, the time to try out something new wasn’t in the middle of a battle.

But maybe…

Things got hotter, the air got harder to breathe as the fire sucked up all the oxygen. 

I dove out of the way of another energy beam, a spray of concrete shrapnel cutting into me. The pavement scalded my palms even through my sweater as I heaved myself up. More of my people dead from her attack.

Fuck it. Time to juggle. I placed a stamp on a tennis ball, another on the ground, chucked ball number one into the sky, and teleported up to it. Caught ball number one, placed a stamp on ball number two, and chucked ball two up even higher. Teleported up to ball two quickly, leaving ball one behind. I replaced the stamp on ball one with one on my sweater, and teleported ball number one below me back into my hand. Repeated the process.

A sketchy kind of flight. If I made a mistake, dropped a ball, or missed a part of the sequence, I’d plummet to my death. But still… Flying. Kinda cool.

Right up until Purity wrapped her head around my stupidity, and just shot one of her beams at me. Kinda what I’d been hoping for anyway. I’d put a couple portals on my sweater as soon as she’d started charging them. That’s right, I didn’t need a damn riot shield to make a reflector shield, it was just convenient. Eat your helix, ya nazi dumbass. I sucked up her laser in my loose gray sweater and fired that sucker back at her scrawny ass.

Fuck.

The ball of light that was Purity easily glided away from the reflected beam, already charging a couple more beams in her palms. I reached to throw my tennis ball- then realized that I’d lost my balls when I’d opened up the portals onto my sweater. Forgot to secure my balls first, lost them. Stupid Tay, stupid, never lose your balls in a fight- everyone knows that!

Purity aimed her next beam at my face, but I dodged it by turtling into my sweater, weightless and in freefall for a few terrifying seconds.

Fuck! Falling! Falling really fucking fast!

I’d need a replacement for my tennis balls- any two projectiles would do. Golf balls in the future, shoes for now. Tossed an old gray Walmart shoe back into the sky to avoid splattering onto the pavement. Back in flight!

But even with my newfound flight my odds were still poor. I had no way of damaging Purity, no way of getting close to her really. She was a natural flier, and I was just hacking my C-list ability for a crude facsimile of flight. Besides, any moment she’d realize she could just rain down her energy beams onto my henchmen…

Or maybe not… The smoke from the ring of fire had turned dark. Poisonous. The kind of smoke that came from burning plastic. From burning garbage.

My henchmen had manufactured a better environment for me. I allowed myself to drop into the noxious fumes, surrounded myself in darkness, and held my breath. The fumes around me were steaming hot, toxic.

Purity dove after me, willing to dirty herself in Brockton Bay’s filth as well.

The battle turned. The sky belonged to her, but I had the advantage in the darkness. The smog hid me, but I didn’t even need my stamp sense to know Purity’s location; she glowed in the dark like a lighthouse beacon. Her hands charged up, but her beams didn’t come close to me, didn’t come close to my people. She was just firing blindly.

Good and bad. My main offense was to redirect a beam at her. If she couldn’t hit me with one, I couldn’t redirect it back at her. Didn’t have access to the Atlantic Portal, or even the Brockton Bay Portal, didn’t even have access to anything heavy I could throw at her using my stamps as a launching point…

Well… I did actually have one thing to throw at her. Me.

Purity’s light was the only thing that penetrated the darkness. I chucked my shoe at her, hard as I could. Teleported to the shoe, and threw the other at her, doubling my speed, again and again, the smoke cutting into my face. Held out my left arm in front of me, braced for impact, and slammed into her.

Felt my shoulder dislocate, arm shatter, organs slam into my ribs as the two of us collided. Painful, but I’d been braced for impact. She’d been blindsided by it. The crash had taken my arm from me, but it had pulverised her ribs and cracked her spine. Sent both of us spinning. Clung onto her for dear life, until she stabilized.

She let out a raspy breath, choked on the fumes, still couldn’t see me in the darkness, but could feel me wrapped against her.

I halfway expected her to run. Flee when she realized I wasn’t an easy target. She didn’t.

She snarled at me, energy collecting in her palms. She shoved it into my side. Stupid. I’d turned my sweater into a portal shield as soon as I’d realized what she was trying to do, and portaled her energy punch through my side and out of my stomach. letting her bury all that energy she’d collected into her own gut.

Hey Purity, stop hitting yourself.

Perhaps it was in bad taste, even if I’d had the good sense to keep my lame one-liners to myself. She was definitely dead. On the other hand, she’d killed dozens of my people, so yeah- I didn’t feel a drop of guilt over it.

Her hot blood soaking into my sweater, the two of us fell as she lost control of her flight. Couldn’t dismiss the portals on my side and on my belly, not with her arm sticking through both of them. So I pulled her arm out of her gut, out of the portal on my side, and leapt off her corpse as we both plummeted.

How had I planned on landing again…

Um…

Okay, so maybe I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but if I could get a stamp on the ground before I touched down, I should be able to cancel out any velocity by teleporting from a stamp I was in freefall with. Exploit how my stamps read relative velocity. That’s what I’d done when I went skydiving in the middle of the Atlantic. So, I just needed to get a stamp on a shoe…

Where were my shoes again? Um… Lost them when I’d pulled the nifty redirection trick to kill Purity.

Fuck.

What did I have on me? Sweater, pants, underwear, and mask. I stamped my sweater, flung it at the ground, and zoomed right past it almost immediately. Damn fucking air resistance. No choice then. Stamped my mask, flung it downwards, and teleported back up to my sweater. Clung onto it. Heard my mask shatter onto concrete, and teleported back down to it.

Wow. That shit had actually worked.

Still not dead. Somehow. My henchman were staring at Purity’s corpse, her gut still smoking, her body bent and smashed from the fall, her pretty white skin covered in soot and blood. I heard the accusation in their livid silence.

I hadn’t killed Purity quickly enough. Sure I’d counted on her being my single worst matchup in Brockton Bay, but that was before I realized she was a complete moron. She’d fallen for every trap, and panicked as soon as the battle started to turn. Who wouldn’t expect something like a parahuman realizing they could fly, afterall? In hindsight, she was nothing special. Should’ve beaten her before she’d had a chance to massacre my people. I’d let too many die while I’d been putzing about like an imbecile.

Probably why they were staring at me now. All that big talk. Claiming them as my people, yet helpless as a nazi jackass slaughtered them with impunity. Yeah, I wouldn’t follow me either.

Weak… I was so weak.

Had to be stronger. Couldn’t let them see… Had to get up. Got to my feet, made sure I didn’t struggle or waiver. Wanted to hop on my feet, or lie back down. Had socks on, but not thick enough to keep my feet from burning on the superheated concrete.

Glanced at my left arm. Bleeding, limp, every movement painful- but not as painful as it should’ve been, given that it was a mixture of shredded muscles, torn ligaments, and shattered bone. Only one explanation. I’d gone into shock.  Annoying- that’d make me act stupid right? Stupider than normal, I mean.

My lungs betrayed me, left me hacking, coughing. Breathed in too much of the toxic gas.

A little girl handed me a cup of water. Why? What was the message? Right, the fire. The fire I hadn’t done anything about. So distracted by a C-list cape that I let my people perish in a fucking fire right in front of me. Who the fuck forgets a fire?

My dumbass, apparently. That was why I was being mocked; even by children.

“Goddam Tay,” said a familiar voice. “You killed Purity…”

Lisa? No, Tattletale, I recognized her domino mask in the smoke. Funny how similar they sounded. What an odd coincidence… How had Tattletale even gotten-

“Nearest source of water,” I said, unable to keep my voice from quivering, betraying weakness. I pushed aside my thoughts, focused on the problem in front of me. Could fly to the Bay, but it’d be quicker if I could tap a nearby reservoir. “Need to get a stamp in the water. Put out the fire. Finish the surgeries. Anyway I can get a stamp into a water main?”

“She’s joking right?” That was Panacea. “Even after that?”

Everything falling apart, even my tenuous hold over Panacea failing. Should’ve done things differently. Should’ve found a better way. Corpses littered the streets, cut up by Purity’s beams, reminders of my failure. All while my fucking feet were fucking sizzling on the stove-top concrete.

Irrelevant. Had to put out the fires. Tattletale not giving any response. Fine. Fly to the bay, steal a car on the way back. Not a fan of grand theft auto, but I’d need to get back as quickly as possible, and I couldn’t fly without both stamps. Might take ten minutes. How many of my people would be left in ten minutes?

Didn’t matter. Had to act. Grabbed some packed gravel from under a ripped section of road. Stamped one, and flun-

Jets of water put out the fire in front of us. Firefighters?

If you actually thought that, you’re probably not from earth bet. No. Of course things wouldn’t get better. Only worse. Hookwolf stepped through the rubble. Fully transformed. A shifting mass of blades, hooks, and chained knives. And yeah, he was way more than three times my weight. Couldn’t teleport him. Not sure I could really harm him even if I had my Atlantic Portal.

With a little more thought, flying artillery like Purity weren’t my biggest weakness. Changers were. Like Hookwolf.

Still, he’d made one mistake. He’d brought some nazi goons with him, armed with full automatics. Firearms within my range. I could teleport the guns to my henchmen, suddenly we’re armed and they’re not. Of course, I could only do one at a time, and with all of us packed together like sardines… Well…

Panacea? She was our best bet. If she could her hands on Hookwolf, she could beat him. Maybe. Depended on how much time it took her to shut off a brain, and if Hookwolf’s metal counted as part of his body. With Hookwolf out of the picture, the goons were beatable. Not easily. We’d take losses, heavy losses, but heavy losses were better than being eradicated.

“Which one of you fuckers is Everywhere,” said Hookwolf, shifting blades gleaming reflected orange. “I ain’t like that whore, Purity. Got some respect, got a code, never gave a shit about Crusader. Fight me one-on-one, I let your people go. You run though, I’ll have my men mow ‘em down.”

“You familiar with the concept of a deadman’s switch, Brad?” Asked Tattletale, sauntering up to Hookwolf like they were best friends. “Yeah, you are.”

Hookwolf growled. “Cunt.”

Tattletale smirked, slung an arm over his blades, and shuffled him away from us. Whispering into his ear. Some plot. Didn’t know what she was saying, but I did see her pull off her domino mask. She put it back on quickly enough, her perfect disguise making it impossible for me to even venture a guess as to her identity. Reckless speculation was dangerous. Besides, whatever she’d said had worked. That was far more important than who she may or may not look like.

Hookwolf shot me a long look. “One month.” Then he and his henchmen disappeared into the night.

I let out a breath. Regretted it. Hated myself for my own weakness. Saved again by Tattletale. 

I should kill her now. I’d told her if she went after my dad, I’d kill her. Going after Lisa’s family was clearly over the line and warranted an execution. If I let her off, broke my word, I’d never be able to control the rest of the Undersiders, the rest of my gang. I had to kill her. But for some reason I couldn’t. I was tired. Had too much to do.

Why the fuck couldn’t I be better?

The fire roared. Right. Wallow later.

“Let’s go,” I said, each word sending stabs of pain through my throat. I’d inhaled too many fumes, each breath hurt. “Leave. Check who has a pulse, who doesn’t. If you’re strong enough, help those who can’t walk out of fire. Save who we can. Leave the dead.”

I steeled myself. Waiting for someone to disobey. There was always one. Astoundingly, not this time. They jumped into action, followed my orders without question. Must’ve been real bad, huh?

I walked out of the fire last, after I’d made sure that all of my people had escaped it first. Least I could do, after my failure. The corpses we left to rot. Didn’t have time for sentimentality. They were dead. Reduced to nothing more than things, and we couldn’t let anything slow us down. Set up camp about a block from the fires.

Tattletale got the surgeons and stations set up again. Ordered appropriate henchmen to go to nearby apartments, loot some tables. I’d try and find a way to repay the victims, but yeah- right now we needed the tables, no question.

We were still missing something. Scalpels, knives, our equipment. We’d left it behind.

“I’ll take care of it,” I said, putting a stamp by one of the stolen tables.

I steadied myself, limped back into the fire, stepping over all the corpses, everyone I’d failed. The bottom of my feet had burned, painful every time they touched down, a deserved punishment. Used my stamp sense to teleport the equipment back to Coil’s surgeons. Coil’s .

Not just Tattletale, I was reliant on Coil as well. These were the fine people I’d been forced to ally myself with, in my weakness.

Panacea stared at me, at my left arm, bleeding, hanging uselessly at my side, the tears I couldn’t quite hold in. My naked vulnerability. And oh right, my exposed face. She could see me; who I really was. Couldn’t have that, not if I wanted her to follow me.

Spotted a white bag of garbage, ripped off a piece of plastic, tore off some slits for my eyes. A makeshift mask.

I put on Everywhere’s mask. Couldn’t afford to look weak. Couldn’t expose any weakness. Funny thing was, the mask was perfect; comfortable. Couldn’t think of one more fitting for myself than one made from literal garbage.

“Good,” said Panacea. “You fucking shot me! You still ruined my life! And also you’re a murderer. You deserve everything that’s happened to you!”

“Job’s not finished,” I said, finding second wind. “We’ve both got work to do.”

Panacea glared at me, but eventually nodded, because whatever else I could say about her, at her core, Amy Dallon desperately wanted to be a hero, desperately wanted to help people. She just didn’t have a clue how to do it.

Must really suck.

“Anyone have a car?” I asked, putting a stamp on a nearby rock. Needed to reestablish the portal in the Bay. Didn’t have to be deep, but I didn’t want to teleport the bombs anywhere in the city.

My henchmen stared at me dully. Because of course they did. Who the fuck would live in the shithole that was the Docks if they could afford a car?

“Fine,” I said. “Anyone willing to steal one? Need you to throw this rock as deep in Brockton Bay as you can.”

A dozen men and women held up their hands to volunteer.

I glanced at Tattletale. “Who can be trusted?”

Tattletale pointed at a heavy-set man, with a pronounced beer belly. “Dai-Ho will get it done.”

“Good,” I said. I nodded at Tattletale. “Give him your gun.”

“I’ve actually got my own, sir,” said Dai-Ho. If I’d wanted his input, I’d have asked for it.

“Tattletale,” I said calmly. “Give him your gun.”

Tattletale wordlessly handed Dai-Ho her annoying handgun. The one she’d threatened to kill me with, once-upon-a-time. 

I gave Dai-Ho my attention, and tossed him the stamped rock. “I can sense anything near it. You try anything outside mission parameters, and I’ll know. Anyone try and mess with you, I’ll know that too. They’ll be picking a fight with me as well. Understand?”

“I understand sir,” said Dai-Ho, bowing and hurried off. I sensed the stamp racing in the general direction of the bay. Good.

After about ten minutes, operations resumed. The surgeons cut open my henchmen’s skulls, I teleported their bombs, and Amy sealed up their heads and made sure everything was neat and clean. It was hard to tell how long we worked. In truth it was tedious, boring, but not bad. Because I was where I needed to be. It felt right.

While we worked, I noticed Tattletale interviewing the gang members. Vetting them. I watched her close to make sure she didn’t make a run for it or try to get a gun from one of our minions. A bit later, a couple hundred more ABB members returned looking angry. Possibly because the men I’d sent to round up any stragglers were marching them to me at gunpoint. 

Good. 

I needed henchmen who got the job done- not boy scouts- people’s lives were on the line. Expecting everyone to act rationally and intelligently was an idealistic daydream. Force and fear were necessary evils if I wanted to do right by my people. I saw hate in their eyes, didn’t matter- compliance was all I asked for, all I’d ever get. A word from Tattletale though, their expressions cleared up, and they bowed to me. Tattletale smirked.

What had she told Coil again?

That I would take over the ABB.

Fucking Tattletale. If that wasn’t evidence of her manipulation, I didn’t know what was. I had to free myself from her influence.

When the operations were finished, I knew what had to be done.

“Guess who fucking called it?” Tattletale said, shooting me a vulpine smile. “Will I ever get tired of being right? Nah.”

“You went after Lisa,” I said.

“The girl on the phone?” Asked Tattletale. “I snooped around her house, my power thought you might be there. I wasn’t trying to go after your friend- believe it or not. I do try to follow the unwritten rules.”

A lie.

“You went after Lisa,” I said. “You threatened my dad.”

“And you told her about me and mine,” said Tattletale. “And more importantly- you told her about our boss. What if she went to the PRT? We’d both be dead.”

“Lisa wouldn’t do something like that,” I said.

“No she wouldn’t,” said Tattletale. “But I had to investigate her, make sure she was clean, not a plant from you-know-who. Just like I did all our new minions. You have a problem with me vetting new members?”

“This is different,” I said. I knew from my stamp sense that Tattletale was defenseless. I was tired, but I could still heave a stamp into the air, teleport Tattletale up to it, let her splatter on the pavement. Maybe spur of the moment, but how much had I regretted passing on the last opportunity I’d had to kill her? Killing a thinker, especially one who could essentially read minds like Tattletale, would always have to be impulsive. Any premeditated plans would be manipulated, doomed to fail upon conception. This was the only way.

“Of course,” said Tattletale quickly. “I crossed the line- it was honestly a mistake, one that won’t happen again, but we need to keep working together. You’re going to need my help dealing with the boss. And.

“I know something about your power that you haven’t realized,” said Tattletale. “You’re not utilizing them to their full capabilities. I can make you stronger.”

“Alright,” I said. “We can stick together. Because of Bakuda. She has to pay.”

Tattletale was right. Painful to admit, but there would be no defeating Coil without her. There was no defeating a thinker without another to neutralize them. Besides, she’d only been vetting Lisa, not threatening her. I also owed her, she’d saved my life twice, probably three times. She’d taken a knife for me against Oni Lee, lit the trash on fire to give me cover against Purity, and talked down Hookwolf. Not to mention the fact that she’d been the one to realize I could actually undo the damage Bakuda had inflicted on my people. Killing Tattletale after all that wouldn’t be right. And if she could uncover some hidden aspects of my power, that was just a bonus.

Tattletale winked. “And to take down Bakuda, you need me. I can tell you where she is, easy-peasy. But how you gonna take her down now that she has hostages?”

“Kill them,” I said. “We can’t let Bakuda get away, terrorize more people, blow up more children.”

“Such a tragedy,” said Tattletale dramatically. “Collateral damage. If only. If only there was some alternative method, that might allow us to spare our dear hostages...”

“Well,” I said. “There is one.”

We both turned to one Amy Dallon.

“You shot me in the foot,” Panacea said indignantly, bringing up old stuff. Besides, I’d had to do it to lure out Bakuda. I’d done what I thought was right at the time. Maybe not perfect, but there was no point in beating myself up over it.

She scowled at Tattletale. “And you ruined my life, made me… made me break my rules, do that… To my sister! Now you want me to help you? Give me a break! I’d rather see a thousand die, than see psychos like you win!”

Hah! What a load of bullshi-

Tattletale’s vulpine smile seemed to have faltered momentarily? Just for a second, she’d… flinched? A moment of guilt, just a brief glimpse into her…

What?

Tattletale felt bad? Tattletale who was worse than Emma, Tattletale who was the most dangerous mastermind in Brockton Bay, Tattletale who had manipulated me like I was a puppet, felt remorse over what she’d done to Panacea? Tattletale who I hated, who I feared more than any other parahuman, that Tattletale? Hadn’t she heard the fucking news, she was my nemesis, my opposite. She couldn’t be so naive, so soft, coddled… good.

She couldn’t be the good one, not when I hadn’t fallen for Panacea’s guilt trip, not for a second.

I felt something bubbling in my chest, trying to get out- a pressure, larger and larger, until it exploded.

Hehehehe. Poor, innocent Amy Dallon.

Hahahaha. One question.

HAHAHAHA! 

Why oh why did you feel so fucking familiar ?

“Lies,” I said. “You’re weak. Impulsive. Evil. You know that. That’s why you have a code. Funny how those who understand right and wrong the least have the strongest opinions about it.”

“Shut up,” said Amy. “You don’t know anything about me. I was doing just fine until you two showed up.”

“Bullshit,” I said. “And you know it.”

I held her gaze until she broke it, looked down in shame.

“You were always going to fall,” I said. “You couldn’t hide from your desires… Your impulses… If you ever used your powers the way you wanted to…

“Don’t pretend Tattletale had anything to do with what you’ve become. You don’t understand right and wrong. At all. You never will.”

“I know,” said Amy softly.

“You wanted so badly to be a hero,” I said. “To be a good person. But it’s not in you. So you pretended. But it was only a matter of time until you were exposed for what you really are. A monster. You don’t know how to be a hero.”

Amy blinked away tears.

“You saved fifteen hundred lives today,” I said. “And it meant nothing. You felt nothing. Just like when you mind raped Victoria… No, about that you felt something… Regret.

“That she broke free before you were finished.”

Amy’s silence was admission enough.

“I know your plot. Act contrite. Do some good deeds. Convince everyone you’re sorry, that you’ve changed… But. People don’t change. It’s all just a game to get your hands on Victoria again, and when you do… You’ll make her love you.”

“I wouldn’t!”

I met her gaze, until she looked away again.

“I’d undo it,” Amy whispered. “I would.”

“Really?” I asked, slowly turned to Tattletale.

Tattletale shook her head. “A lie.”

Amy’s defensive walls shattered. She crumpled. Broken. Her character, her beliefs, everything she had believed herself to be had been stripped away.

She was a blank slate. Ready to be molded anew.

“Right and wrong mean nothing to you,” I said. “All that matters is that you get what you want. That’s just who you are, Amy. Evil. Delusional.

“But most of all, selfish,” I said. “Selfish we can use. Selfish we can exploit. Follow my orders. Follow your code. Use your powers as I instruct, save the city, heal Victoria, join us. Here is my promise to you, Amy. One the heroes will never give you. If I see you slipping at all, before you fall, I’ll end you, before you turn into what you were always meant to be.”

Barely perceptible, less than an eighth of an inch, but it was enough. She nodded. Agreed. I’d done it. I’d corrupted Brockton Bay’s greatest hero into villainy. I’d taken all I knew about her, my unique insight into her character, and used it to break her so she was easier to manipulate. I felt no regret over what I’d done. Her power was too great to be wasted. It had to be done to save the city.

Simple necessity.

“What would you have me do?” Asked my newest tool.

Chapter Text

A/N: Thanks to Two Pence for betareading and pointing out a few plot holes.

Here’s a snippet of a scene from 2.5 that got cut because I felt the chapter was already a little dialog heavy, but was originally something of an introduction to Shadow Stalker.

Vista glared. “We don’t know who she is or what she wants. Bad as they were, Lung and Oni Lee never executed a child. I doubt we can catch her alive. She deserves a kill order.”

“Aww, look whose adorable little balls just dropped,” said Shadow Stalker in a mocking voice, grinding her hand on top of Missy’s head. “But you’re still clueless if you’re trying to get revenge for your imaginary boyfriend. The Undersiders are a bunch of queefs, but now that they’ve got Everywhere on their side fighting them is fucking retarded. Make no mistake, she could’ve killed us far more easily than she did Oni Lee. We’re only alive due to her mercy. In the savannah, the lion eats the gazelle, in business, the big company eats the little company, in school, the popular bully the friendless. It’s a law of nature that the strong eat the weak and the cape world is no exception. Relative to the rest of the Undersiders we’re predators, but relative to Everywhere we’re prey. Cry about it all you want little girl. It’s the way the world works. You see Everywhere, don’t fight her, run as fast as your stubby little legs can carry you.”

ooOoo

And now. Onto the show.

ooOoo

“Congratulations, Everywhere,” said Bakuda calmly, her mask blurry despite the Undersider’s state-of-the-art 240p television. Four beautiful blonde women were strapped to chairs behind her, as well as two brown-haired men built like superheroes, all their mouths gagged and covered in duct tape. They were in a large empty theater, the spotlight on Bakuda. “You beat me. You stole my gang. You disarmed my bomb. But the bomb was a… not a trap, but more of a calculated gamble, a sacrifice to entice you to show your hand. The Protectorate doesn’t have anyone who could reliably discern the bomb’s location, but there is one particular parahuman in the city who could, who wants to see me destroyed, who fucking saved your ass when I had you at my fucking mercy. Brockton Bay know this, Tattletale has infiltrated the PRT, and manipulated Vista and Clockblocker like puppets.”

Tattletale cackled, but her arm held steady. I felt Amy tremble.

“To Armsmaster, Director Piggot, and Chief Director Costa-Brown,” said Bakuda. “I am willing to negotiate. We have a mutual enemy. My actions were bad, I admit it, but I had little choice. Everywhere murdered Lung, and I still don’t know why. She didn’t give warning, she didn’t make demands, she just attacked. Then she executed Oni Lee on national television, along with a little girl. Just this evening, I got word from the Empire. A few hours ago, she killed Purity unprovoked.”

Regent, Tattletale, and Bitch cheered.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” said Grue, putting a toned arm on his forehead. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“The Undersiders are no normal gang,” said Bakuda. “They mean to take over the entire city. My first condition is that you kill her.

“My second condition is that you allow me to leave this shitstain of a city. You think I ever gave a fuck about the ABB? Fucking look at me. What Asian has blue eyes? Lung recruited me, how the hell was I supposed to say no? I’ve done some horrible things, but only under orders or to defend myself against a supervillain straight out of the Slaughterhouse.”

“In return for meeting your conditions, I’ll take care of your true enemies. Not Everywhere, even though she took everything from me, even though she’s an unstable serial killer with delusions of grandeur, even though she’s taken half the Asians in Brockton Bay hostage, even though she’s more dangerous than Jack Slash himself. No, not her. Enough games. We all know your true enemy. The only one that really matters.

“Give me fifty million dollars and I’ll create a bomb that can kill Leviathan. I know you want it. That’s why you haven’t put a kill order on me. It’s why Eidolin hasn’t come to pay me a visit. Hehehehe… Hahaha… That’s why you’re leaving me hanging, right? Just enough hope for me to second trig- HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! You fucking wanted this didn’t you? The terror! That’s good. That’s fucking good. I thought Lung and Everywhere were twisted, they don’t hold a candle to the real fucking monsters. Okay, okay, well played PRT, well played. You want terror? You want the next Eidolin? I’ll help.”

Bakuda chuckled sadistically, and signaled to her servants to ungag the members of New Wave, pointing a finger at each of them in turn. “Anyone want to beg? Turn on their family? Who knows? I might just listen.”

New Wave glared at her in silent defiance.

Bakuda pointed at each of them in turn. “Eeny, meeny, miny you.”

 Lady Photon was wheeled out in front of her. Her body was limp. But she was conscious. Her mouth could move.

“You’re pathetic,” said Lady Photon, her eyes cold as ice. “Full of excuses. Begging.”

“Are those your last words?” Asked Bakuda easily.

“You’re going to die,” said Lady Photon.

Bakuda took a few steps back.

“You’re going to fucking die,” said Lady Photon. Her body started to grow. In seconds she was morbidly obese, with no signs of her expansion slowing. “You’re… Gonna… no… NO MORE! STOP! STOP!!!!”

Her brave words devolved into screams of pain. Agony. A primordial fear. Until her body had expanded so much she collapsed in on herself.

“Perhaps we should turn off the television,” said Tattletale softly, one arm raised to Amy’s back.

“Or at least let Tattletale put that thing away,” said Grue. “It’s… unprofessional.”

“No,” I said.

Amy quivered. “No.”

Bakuda quipped, “You probably can’t smell it through the television, but she totally shit herself before she croa-”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Cried Glory Girl, her blue eyes glistening with tears. “I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Brandish’s scream was so rage-filled, so incoherent, that I doubted even she knew what she was trying to say.

“You have my conditions,” said Bakuda pleasantly, her henchmen gagging Brandish and Glory Girl. “Every hour you make me wait, I’ll kill one more. Let’s snake the order. I just killed a Pelham. The next two will be Dallons.”

Tattletale turned off the television with a remote, but to her credit she never lowered the arm protecting me, never let her aim wander from Amy. “The order will be Carrol, then Victoria. If we kill her, all the hostages die instantly.”

“Fucking awesome,” said Regent. “I wonder what she’ll do next.”

“She’s an idiot,” I said, partly to reassure Amy, but also because it was true. “She’s revealing more about her powers than she has to. She’s copied Panacea’s power, and I’ve seen her copy Vista’s. We’ve got to be on the lookout for a bomb that teleports them, or maybe a bomb that always makes you tell the truth.”

“Exactly,” said Tattletale. “She’s still putting her own personal fame over being pragmatic. That’s an exploitable weakness.”

“Fucked up,” said Bitch stiffly.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Grue told Amy.

What a terrible thing to say! Sure condolences could be nice, but not in the middle of a mission. As long as you had a goal in front of you, it was easy enough to put your personal feelings aside and focus on what to do next.

“Thanks,” Amy sniffed. She took her hand off me, and I moved my left arm experimentally. Good as new.

Tattletale holstered the gun she’d had pointed at Amy’s head.

“I c-can make a plague,” said Amy. “S-something that will paralyze her. S-something airborne. I c-can make it so she doesn’t realize what’s happening.”

“How long would it take to work?” I asked.

“Fifteen minutes after exposure,” said Amy. “That’s the fastest it could work without being detectable.”

“Too slow,” I said. “You think she’s going to see people dropping and not realize what’s happening? She kidnapped your family, she expects an attack from you. She’s baiting you, just like she did the rest of New Wave when she attacked their homes. We’d have to get right next to her for the thing to work, and at that point there are easier ways to take her out. You’d be better served just making her braindead with your power.”

“M-my power doesn’t work quickly enough,” said Amy. “She’d have enough time to detonate all I’ve got left of my family… My sister.”

“Too bad,” I said. “Bakuda can do more harm than your family could do good. We need to prioritize killing her before she can do more damage. We let her go, it’ll just embolden her- and next time she’ll be threatening the entire country.”

“I’m with Panacea,” said Grue. “If we’re going to take down Bakuda anyway we might as well save New Wave. They’ll owe us one. As I see it, we’re gonna need some allies after this.”

“Ames, Ames, Ames,” said Tattletale. “You know I got your back. Having Glory Hole owe me her life- that just sounds hilarious.”

“I’m with neither of you,” said Regent. “Let Bakuda and the PRT fight it out. We’re not getting paid for this, it’s a needless risk.”

“Regent’s right,” said Bitch. “Shit’s stupid.”

“You know she can heal your dog’s right?” Asked Tattletale.

“Right,” said Bitch. “Changing my vote. With Panacea.”

How the fuck had Tattletale gotten Bitch to agree with her? Whatever, I’d been outvoted. So now we didn’t just need to sneak past both the PRT and Bakuda’s defenses, we’d also have to wait fifteen minutes undetected for the plague to do its work. Why not make an impossible mission more impossible? That was sarcasm by the way, I was firmly opposed to making long odds even longer.

“Fine,” I said. Amy’s plague was our only chance to stop Bakuda subtly enough to prevent her from detonating her bombs and wiping out New Wave. Did I think it would actually work? No. Did I think the reward was worth the risk? No. This was one of many reasons group projects were bullshit, you had to go along with the idiotic ideas your partners came up with. Guess it was up to me to turn that F into a C-. Wahoo. I turned to Tattletale. “Where’s Bakuda?”

“Immaculata High,” said Tattletale, smirking. “She’s going after every high school in the city. She figures she’ll hit yours eventually.”

Should I just tell Bakuda I went to Winslow? No. I wasn’t about to give her any help unmasking me.

“We need a way to get on the roof,” I said. “Enter the ventilation shaft. Make sure Bakuda is the first inoculated by our plague. Then…”

I went over the plan, changing it based on suggestions from everyone in the group, until we had a plan that everyone could agree on. Five votes yes, and one performative no, used to lull me into a false sense of security. The group could never truly go against Tattletale’s wishes, no matter how much she tried to convince me otherwise.

“It’s a good start,” said Tattletale. “But it could use more revision. There’s got to be another way. Maybe we should go back to your old idea of straight up murdering her. Don’t you think we’re crossing a line here? Frankly, I’m uncomfortable with this.”

“Frankly I don’t care,” I said. Nor did she. Not really. If she actually cared, her manipulations would be better. This was another ploy, to try and make her seem less powerful, more controllable, as if she weren’t the true master of the undersiders.

“And don’t even try and talk your way out of it,” said Regent. “You and your democratic process just got me shanked, and has me going on another retarded mission, so I really don’t want to hear it.”

“They’re right,” said Grue. “The votes are in; the plan’s a go.”

Tattletale scowled. “Surprising. Y’know, I can normally count on you to be a pussy. What happened? Trying to impress Everywhere, show her you’re a big strong man? Or maybe it’s because it’s not your ass on the line?”

“I’m going to forgive you for that one,” said Grue. “You’re upset. We get it. But you’re the only one who can go undercover, and we’re going to need a mole for this to work.”

“Always the professional,” said Tattletale. “Always have to act like you’re in control. Truth is you’re more uncomfortable with this than I am- just wanna look good in front of your cru-”

Grue covered up her mouth with a large gloved hand. He easily maneuvered Tattletale into a firm hold; pressing her against his broad body with powerful arms. Fucking bitch, she hadn’t been trying to manipulate me, she’d just been running her mouth so Grue would have an excuse to touch her. It was a little unprofessional, but I’d have traded places with her in a second.

The plan was fairly simple. Amy would create an airborne plague confined in an electric spray bottle and inoculate us with its cure. The plague would first induce a calm stupor in the victim, and then transition to permanent paralysis. The process would take about fifteen minutes. In order to avoid tipping off Bakuda, we would release the spray bottle in a ventilation shaft above her room. Hopefully, by the time she noticed what was happening she would be paralyzed. Once Bakuda was caught and killed, and our safe retreat secured, we would have Amy release a more transmissible cure for her plague.

After Amy had provided us with immunity to her plague and Tattletale had thrown a hissy fit about being touched, I made the necessary preparations that would ensure the success of our mission. Nothing big. I just made some minor modifications to the RC car. Better safe than sorry.

Grue cornered me just before we left, grabbing me with a large hand. Unlike Regent, he had a man’s body. If not for my power, I might have found him intimidating rather than attractive. Of course, if he asked me out and I hadn’t known he was a supervillain, I’d still have probably said yes.

“No pointless fights,” said Grue, the tension in his broad shoulders visible even through the thick leather of his costume. “I don’t want to end up taking on half the protectorate because Armsmaster looked at you funny.”

What?

“I don’t start fights,” I said. I was a good person. I wasn’t going to abuse my powers like some bullshit bully. Besides, I was the perpetual victim. Maybe with my powers I’d started to grow a bit of a spine, but it wasn’t anything stable. I didn’t like confrontation, it wasn’t in my nature, even this conversation was making me a little uncomfortable.

“Lung, Oni Lee, Puri-”

“All villains,” I said, a little irritated at the waste of a conversation, when I really needed to be focusing on the mission.

“The Wards,” said Grue. “Kid Win, Gallant, Aegi-”

“To lure out the ABB,” I said. “Violent, but purposeful.”

“Right,” said Grue. “So your argument that you’re not bloodthirsty is that you only took out the Wards so you could have a deathmatch with Oni Lee?”

“Leading to less fighting in the long run,” I said. “I think with all that the old ABB has done, even my harshest critics would admit that they deserved everything I gave them.”

“The plan was to rob the bank, draw some attention, and teleport the heroes into the containment foam,” Grue nagged. “Not almost kill them and risk a kill order.”

Tattletale was right- Grue was kind of a pussy. Bit annoying too, sitting on the sideline, pointing out all the little downsides of my adjustments that had ultimately brought Oni Lee to justice. As if any mission would go perfectly in the real world. As if violence and fear weren’t what made the world go round. Yeah, go ahead and suggest that we try and save Brockton Bay using love and compassion. Rehabilitation and second chances. Sounds good; works like shit though. A soft approach like that just enables bullying and worse.

“My stamps will be occupied with Bakuda,” I said. “Unless you think I can make an RC car dangerous, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Grue stared at me for a moment. Then sighed. “Fair enough. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not stupid.”

Or defenseless. I stifled a smirk. I hadn’t even outright lied. Could I make an RC car dangerous? Of course. But unlike what Grue was implying it wasn’t so I could start a fight with the Protectorate. It was insurance more than anything. Sure the plan was about stealth more than anything. But what if we were discovered? I had to be prepared for that eventuality. Ironically, being ready for a fight would give me the reassurance I’d need to make sure that one didn’t actually happen.

We took a ride on one of Coil’s vans to get within a few blocks of Imaculata High. I stamped a drone, and Grue covered it in his darkness. Tattletale flew the drone onto the roof of the highschool, and we waited.

“Innocent, innocent Everywhere,” said Tattletale. “What would your mother think of you if she saw you now? Do you think she would be proud? Impressed by what you’re doing?”

Thanks Emma. Couldn’t have ignored her without you.

“She wouldn’t,” said Tattletale. She smiled sadistically. “She’d have seen you for what you were. But your father? He’s on your side, Taylor. You could tell him who you really are, tell him how you’re really doing everything to save the city and he’d buy it. He’d be on your side no matter what. Y’know, like Alan.”

My stamp sense flared, and I teleported one of Bakuda’s henchmen to us. Grue covered the balding man’s head in darkness, Regent took him down with his taser, and Amy knocked him out with a touch. She studied his face closely.

“No,” said Tattletale. “C’mon guys! C’mon, this isn’t right! This violates God’s will- turning something so pretty into something so ugly. C’mon Regent, you really want your eye candy turning into that slob?”

“I dunno,” said Regent gleefully, nodding at the skinny, middle-aged, balding, very ugly asian man. “It’ll be nice for your outside to finally match your inside.”

“Fuck!” said Tattletale. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay fine. But after this, you’d better not fucking question my loyalty ever again Taylor. Never. You fucking owe me!”

She and Amy disappeared into the van.

“Bask your eyes on the perfection that is my body,” said Tattletale, her voice only slightly muffled by the van. “I give you full permission to lewd out, go full pervert. Go on, give my perfect tits a squeeze… Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t say no to that- wanna pay me back- remember every fucking detail on this work of art and I’ll let you have another go at ‘em. The perfect proportions, the lithe muscles, the slim waist, the enchanting blue eyes, and the calves, you’ve gotta admit I’ve got great calves. But you’d better fucking get my smile right, capische?” 

A few minutes later, Tattletale and Amy got out of the van. For a second I felt a pang of sympathy. For all her mind games I did owe her one. She’d taken on a near exact appearance of the ugly asian man.

She shot me with her familiar vulpine smile. “Aww look, are you starting to trust me? Almost makes it worth it. Almost. Seriously, fuck you for this.” Her voice was deeper, sounded like a man’s, but no matter what, Tattletale was still Tattletale. I’d recognize her anywhere, no matter her appearance.

I gave Tattletale Regent’s RC car. I’d taped a few things onto it, some nails, a box of tacks, and a couple tiny plastic bags filled with vinegar and baking soda, but nothing that should make much of a difference.

I teleported myself, Grue, and Tattletale onto the roof of the school. Grue covered us in darkness, I replaced the stamp on the drone with one on the RC Car, teleported Grue and myself back to the rest of the Undersiders, and left Tattletale to complete the most important part of the mission. Next we needed to provide a distraction. To that end we would launch a moronic and counterproductive frontal assault on Bakuda’s forces. Well, all of us aside from Regent, he’d be trailing us, hiding behind some cars in a nearby parking lot. Unfortunately, one of my stamps was tied to the rc car, and I couldn’t replace it until Tattletale gave me the signal. That meant I couldn’t teleport, couldn’t fly, couldn’t banish my enemies, couldn’t redirect their attacks, all I could do was summon the things I’d attached to the rc car. I was as defenseless as I’d been since I’d gotten my powers.

As expected, we were stopped by the Protectorate as soon as we reached a near-empty school parking lot which was still a few hundred feet from Immaculata High’s front doors. Armsmaster in his famous blues; Miss Militia in her legendary greens; Velocity, Battery, Assault, Sere, Triumph, and Dauntless. The heros were all here. The Brockton Bay Protectorate. The Wards sans Aegis. Kid Win manning a turret of containment foam atop a PRT van. All the heroes in the city, all the parahumans I actually respected- the ones who wanted to use their powers to make the world a better place. Unlike the Undersiders, these were true allies, not ones of convenience. I wasn’t awestruck or tongue-tied like a Greg Veder would have been, hell like an Emma would have been, we were all just capes. Sure I’d once had Armsmaster’s underwear, but it wasn’t like he was Alexandria. He was just another bully, and even then, he was nothing compared to Lung.

He wasn’t even that tall, although I could admit that he still had the smile that had made him my first crush- but I’d been younger then, more foolish. I was different now, I was a cape too, and I’d fought and beaten capes that he hadn’t. As intimidating as I found them, they probably found me just as intimidating. Surprisingly, they actually did seem a little nervous, had I actually gained a bit of a rep?

Yeah, yeah Tay, sure. Their trepidation had nothing at all to do with Bitch’s fully transformed dogs behind me, it was big, bad scary Taylor Hebert they were afraid of. Ha! Keep telling yourself that. Maybe if you do it enough somebody will actually beli-

An almost ethereal form streaked away from us, more like a frightened hare made of shadow than an actual person. She’d been one of the vulnerable ones anyways- foolish enough not to wear armor. Sere, Velocity, Battery, Assault, and Vista were similarly vulnerable. Browbeat didn’t wear armor, but had regeneration. Armsmaster and Triumph had possibly exploitable holes in their armor. 

“Shadow Stalker, get back here,” said Armsmaster, but she was already gone. Armsmaster spun on Grue.  “Treachery! Sabotage! I thought I’d made it clear at Somer’s Rock that any interference in our operation would be considered an act of aggression.”

Grue held up his hands. “Understood, but one of our members has personal stakes in the mission. We couldn’t ignore what was happening. Sir, listen. If you could work with Panacea we could create an airborne plague which could knockout Bakuda, and allow us to capture her without setting off her deadman’s switch.”

Armsmaster’s smirk would have been right at home on Emma. “You must’ve prepared something in advance. You wouldn’t come here empty handed. You’ve already completed a rudimentary plague, haven’t you?”

I elbowed Amy to keep her mouth shut.

“Of course,” said Amy, like a naive child. She showed him our motorized spray bottle. “The plague currently takes fifteen minutes to paralyze. But that’s primarily because the bacteria need time to replicate once they’re in the system. With a more effective transmission system, we could reduce the time to seconds.”

“I see,” said Armsmaster smugly. “You’ve truly become a villain. Threatening the city, no the entire world, with bioterrorism.”

“It’s n-not like that,” said Amy. “They have my sister!”

“Ahh yes, the sister you mastered,” said Armsmaster. “You’re more terrifying than your teammate Hijack. But your abilities as a master are irrelevant. The Protectorate has a kill order set to trigger should you create anything that self-replicates. As I see it, the greatest threat to the city isn’t Bakuda. It isn’t even Squirter. It’s you.”

Amy started to break down. “I was- I’m just trying to help! I just want to save people! I just want to be a good person!”

“Sir,” said Battery. “With all due respect, this is Panacea. Should we really be turning down her help? She’s the most powerful healer in North America- and you’re all but forcing her into villainy!”

“Irrelevant,” said Armsmaster. “I don’t care how powerful she is, I don’t care about her sob story, she broke one of our most important laws.”

“To save her fucking family!” said Battery, her voice a little louder.

“Pressure,” said Armsmaster. “Is no excuse. Every criminal thinks they’re doing the right thing. Every criminal has their rationalizations. Perhaps some are truly deserving of our sympathy. But it isn’t about them. It’s about the people they hurt, the damage their actions cause. Now. Team. Let’s arrest these villains. Lethal force is permitted against Panacea. Do whatever it takes to get that plague from her before she has the chance to release it.”

“Boss,” said Assault. “Are you sure this is really the right time for this? Don’t we have bigger things to worr-”

He was cut off by a chilling scream and a blinding light. The scream had been full of pain, anger, but most of all terror. A cry full of weakness. Death robbed even the proudest of their dignity.

Bakuda had executed Brandish.

Amy’s eyes misted, but she said nothing.

“Arrest them,” said Armsmaster. His team didn’t move. “Nothing has changed. Arrest them!”

I waited for Grue to capitalize on the weakness in their ranks. Sow dissent. He didn’t.

I took the spray bottle full of Panacea’s plague and stepped up.

“Another dead hero,” I said. “Whatever we think of each other, Bakuda is worse. She needs to be our first priority. Once we’ve taken her down, freed New Wave, you can come at us like we’re the new Slaughterhouse. But for now… Truce?”

“You already ignored one truce,” said Armsmaster. “Under normal circumstances villain on villain violence would be the least of my concerns. But today? Squirter, you broke the truce by killing Purity. You’re going to the Birdcage.”

“She attacked first.” I said. “Slaughtering us. I had to defend my people. You go to the Docks, near the boat graveyard, you’ll see her corpse surrounded by all the people she murdered. The men… the women… the elderly… children.”

“Self-defense? Perhaps,” said Armsmaster. “Unlike you, I respect the law. Come quietly Squirter, and I’ll look into the matter myself.”

Funny how the more I saw of the Protectorate- of any authority really- the less I thought of them. How many fucking Principal Blackwells, Mr Gladlys, and fucking Armsmasters would fucking treat me like garbage, until I just turned fully and became a villain for fucking real? Maybe it wasn’t because being a hero really sucked that most capes went villain- maybe it was because they wanted to do some good and becoming a ‘so-called’ hero would get in the way of that. I was fucking tired of everyone assuming the worst of me. Not believing me! Why the fuck would I lie? They should’ve known, they should’ve fucking believed me for one single fucking-

Clockblocker. Tick tock, his armor was covered in so much ash I almost hadn’t recognized him, but he was here, between Vista and Aegis.

“Clockblocker was with me,” I said. “He can attest to everything I was saying. Tell them. Tell them I was trying to save people. Tell them I’m not an enemy.”

Clockblocker stared at me. Tilted his head as if he was confused. What was there to think about?

No… No, no, no.

I knew his answer before he even said it.

“Last I saw her was at the bank,” said Clockblocker.

And there it was. Betrayed. Again. I supposed I deserved it. That’s what I got for trusting someone.

For putting my fucking faith in a ‘ hero’ .

I threw my head back and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Surprisingly, they didn’t attack me in my moment of weakness. My enemies stared at me. Couldn’t read their expressions through their masks. Not that I’d have been able to understand without them. I just didn’t get people. I never would.

“She’s self-righteous and delusional,” said Clockblocker. “That’s why she’s so effective, because she doesn’t even have the restraint of a Lung or a Kaiser. She’ll kill anyone who gets in her ways. Villains like Purity, heroes like us, even children. I’m sure she thinks she’s doing the right thing, I’m sure she can sound convincing, that she can take advantage of people looking for guidance. But beneath the idealism is an insatiable hunger for power. Things need to be run her way, and she doesn’t give a shit about all the corpses it’ll take to make that happen. Bakuda is nothing. Everywhere is the real threat. We’ve got to take her out. Here. Now.”

Battery and Assault stepped down. Bought Clockblocker’s words, bent the knee to the power-abusing bullshit bully Armsmaster, and readied themselves for the fight.

I’d explained myself to Clockblocker. He’d told me not to kill myself. He’d asked me to join the fucking Wards! I thought he was different! I thought he actually fucking cared!

Hehehehe…

Maybe I was a little intimidating. Maybe just a little. He must not have thought he could take me… Oh who was I kidding? Why was I lying to myself? I knew why he’d done it. Afterall, it was a lesson my best friend had so lovingly taught me. Such an easy lesson, one I should have learned a long, long time ago.

I was unlovable. I was despicable. Any kindness I received was a lie, a manipulation.

Betrayal was inevitable.

“Could I have ever been a hero?” I found myself asking, my whisper almost drowned out by freshly sprouted maple leaves rustling in the breeze. “If I’d turned myself in after Lung, could I have been a Ward?”

“Yes,” said Battery. “There’s always a place for anyone who wants to hel-”

“No,” said Armsmaster, grimacing. “And for that I’m truly sorry. Did you think your asinine codename was a coincidence? Do you think I would ever call you Squirter except under orders? There is no place for you in the protectorate. There never was. And based upon your actions, I have to commend Chief Director Costa-Brown’s reading on the two of you. Whatever your circumstances, whatever your rationalizations, you’re using your powers to hurt people. You are villains.”

The distance between us shrunk to nothing, Clockblocker froze Panacea, and Grue covered us in darkness.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Thanks to Two Pence for beta reading and helping me catch some plot holes.

Armsmaster twitched his halberd into a combat stance, but I’d already thrown a stamped tennis ball at him, teleporting the mixtures of baking soda and vinegar from the RC car into the halberd. His halberd lit up and incinerated my tennis ball with a laser. The good thing about lasers was that they were essentially just light, and light didn’t have much stopping power. My stamp may have been ash in the wind, but the ash was still traveling at about 50 miles per hour. I teleported a capsaicin-coated nail a millimeter from Miss Militia’s right forearm, felt it sink into her muscles with my stampsense. Repeated the process. Put a nail in Battery’s thigh and Sere’s kneecap. Missed Velocity and Assault. A nail bounced off Armsmaster’s armor harmlessly. It was a new application of my power I’d realized when researching, with my teleportation I could essentially extend the edge of any blade to 200 feet.

Another clink of Armsmaster’s halberd, and Grue’s darkness was lifted in a flash of blinding light.

“Regent first,” Armsmaster ordered. “As we planned.”

“Fuck off,” said Assault, staring at the blood squirting out of Battery’s thigh. He crossed half the parking lot in a flash of red, in my face before I’d even processed that I needed to dodge. He went sprawling, it didn’t matter how fast you moved if Regent made you trip. I stamped my fist, swatted down hard as I could, and teleported a nail straight into his calf with all the downward force I could pound into it. But the nail didn’t take, it bounced off him harmlessly. As much as I hated her, it sure would be nice to have Tattletale explain the nuances of his power. Luckily he’d been hurt by the fall, and limped off the battlefield to join Battery and Sere.

Armsmaster slammed down his halberd but nothing happened. He scowled and muttered something under his breath. The vinegar and baking soda must’ve finally taken. He was the second strongest tinker in the world, but without his weapon he was nothing more than a civilian. Problem was he knew that too. I had to take him out before he retreated, and repaired the damage done to his halberd.

Lightning streaked past me, smashed through a blue Porsche, and slammed into Regent’s chest, pumping him full of amperes, temporarily paralyzing him. Dauntless retracted his arclance almost as quickly as he’d extended it, his legionnaire armor leaking thunderbolts into the nearby concrete like a Tesla Coil. No matter, I’d just redirect his attacks back at him like I’d done with Purity, wait no- my stamp was tied up with Tattletale and her RC car- so I had to dodge the old fashioned way. I dove into the concrete to avoid his oncoming attack. Fuck, he hadn’t attacked, just waited for me to lose my nerve. Dauntless watched me eat pavement, aimed his spear carefully, and sent his arclance racing towards me in a flash of lightning.

Angelica jumped in front of me, taking the brunt of the strike. The cuddly furball whimpered but didn’t fall.

“Hurt!” Bitch howled. Brutas and Judas bounded towards Dauntless, jumping over me, shaking the ground with each stride. Dauntless raised his left arm, a small shield the size of a dinner plate, and a bubble-shaped forcefield burst out of it, shocking the dogs back before they could get at him. They surrounded him, circling him like a pack of wolves surrounding cornered prey, jaws snapping at the shield unable to pop it. Until space warped, and Brutus froze.

Clockblocker left the taser he’d unloaded on the giant beast frozen in the air. The little shit had taken my suggestions about his powers and used them against me. Stealing my work like Madison had, presenting it as his own. Bitch gritted her teeth, but didn’t fly off the handle. Then Gallant hit her with some kind of energy ball.

“Kill,” Bitch screamed, pointing at Clockblocker.

That was no good. I needed her dogs keeping Dauntless busy. I had to take down her distractions so she kept Dauntless tied up. As if he was reading my thoughts, Grue’s darkness surrounded Vista. She gave the enemy mobility, but more vitally was vulnerable.

I jabbed the stamp on my fist forward, teleporting a few tacks on the RC car a centimeter from Vista’s unarmoured stomach. She staggered as little red blots appeared on her fancy green dress, but didn’t falter. Other problems. I flicked my finger, and poked Grue in the back with a tack. Sensed him turn, stagger, and duck away from Armsmaster who’d snuck behind him and tried to club him the old fashioned way with his defective halberd. Grue cloaked the two of them in darkness.

 “Run,” I shouted at Vista. “Or the next tack is going through your eye.”

“Fuck off,” said Vista.

Fine. Preferable anyways, there was nothing sweeter than an enemy’s scream. I jabbed my stamp forward, but was thrown off my feet by Triumph’s roar. I skidded across the pavement, tried to roll back to my feet, but was forced down by a blur of red punches. It didn’t really hurt, Velocity’s punches were more like a strong wind than anything, but it was enough to keep me grounded. I could feel him clawing at the spray bottle, but I held on tight and he couldn’t pry it away from me.

A giant hand flipped me onto my back, forced my arms behind me, and pried my hands open like I was a child.

“It’s done,” said Browbeat, tossing the spray bottle to Kid Win, who flew off on his hoverboard. I teleported the bottle to the RC car, and then immediately back into my hand. Browbeat sighed, and hauled me up. “Give up. You’ve lost.”

He had a point. Brutus, Judas, and Angelica had been frozen by Clockblocker. Dauntless held his arclance to the small of Bitch’s back. Triumph held a handful of Amy’s frozen hair, ready to snap her neck when she unpaused. Regent himself was held at gunpoint by Miss Militia. Armsmaster had Grue pinned and handcuffed. I was powerless, surrounded by enemies, all my allies defeated, the majority of my powers inaccessible, and in the grasp of a cape who could snap my neck as easily as he could snap his fingers.

They had me beat. No question. So then… Why did all the heroes look so wary?

Scared of little old me? Poor pathetic Taylor Hebert? The perpetual victim?

Yes actually. You see, I wasn’t powerless against my bullies anymore. I could hurt them as easily as they could hurt me.

“Let us go,” I said, trying to hide my smile. I put my hand on the cap of the spray bottle. “Or I release this plague. There are no cures, except for those Amy creates. It will spread across the globe in days, rendering the entire population paralyzed. You thought Bakuda’s bomb was scary, it could only wipe out a city, this will condemn the entire continent.”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” said Armsmaster. He held out something small and dark. It looked a little like a tiny brick until he flipped it open. “This is a cell phone. See this button? I press it and I’m talking to the head of the Protectorate. If you release the plague, I will call Chief-Director Costa-Brown. She orders an airstrike, and Brockton Bay becomes a big pile of ash and rubble. Your family, your friends, your team. All dead. You’re not getting out of this one. Tonight, you lose.”

“There it is,” I said quietly. “There’s the ‘hero’ we all know. The Protectorate is trying to save the entire world. What’s one little city , one little family , one little girl compared to the world? Disposable. Specks . Like worms .”

“No,” said Armsmaster firmly. “You’re the one holding the fate of the world in your hands. Whatever happens, it’s on you.”

So I was the bully then? I was the villain? Fuck you, Armsmaster, but…

“You’re right,” I said, letting loose a peel of laughter as sad as it was humorless. I could get out of this, I could save everyone, if I let myself fall, if I gave up my dream, my hope, my one last light in the darkness. “You’re right about everything. I am dangerous. I don’t deserve mercy. That must be why you’re the boss. Because you can make the hard choices. Because you recognize where power lies. That’s why you’ve run this city for a decade. And guess what? Your rule has made monsters like me.

“I hold the fate of Brockton Bay in my hands,” I whispered. “Now. Ask yourself. Do you think I care enough to save it? Or am I looking for an excuse to let it all burn?”

I squeezed the bottle. Just a little. It only looked like it would pop, but it was really just a bluff.

Afterall, I couldn’t let down Mom. I had to do right by her. I had to be a good person.

Oh that’s right, she was dead wasn’t she?

So why exactly did I have to be a good person again? I didn’t really try that hard to remember, but I did try to try. I didn’t really care, but I did want to care. That’s gotta count for something right?

“No,” said Miss Militia. “Let’s talk.”

I eased the pressure on the squirt bottle.

“Are you… Are you disobeying orders?” Asked Armsmaster.

“Somebody has to,” said Dauntless.

“You give Dauntless the bottle,” said Miss Militia. “We let Hellhound go. He flies a hundred feet. We let Grue go. He flies 100 more, we let Panacea go. Hijack will be held in a local jail until you’re safely secured in Birdcage.”

“The fuck?” Said Regent. “Can we change the order here? Trust me, you do not want me in captivity any more than I do.”

“This is preposterous!” said Armsmaster. “ Don’t you idiots understand anything?”

“With all due respect,” said Battery. “Fuck off. I saw how you acted at the cape meeting. Panacea is a better hero than you’ll ever be. We’re supposed to protect the city, not your ego. What was the point in any of this? You’ve just turned the two most powerful capes in Brockton Bay against us! If they want to help- let them! Why the fuck aren’t we going after Bakuda?”

It was clear the rest of the Protectorate agreed with Battery. Armsmaster scowled. “The director will hear of this.”

“If I’m sidelined, I’m sidelined,” said Battery. “If I have to move cities, fine. But I’m never taking orders from you again.”

“Do what you must,” said Armsmaster, glowering at each member of his former squad in turn. A light on his halberd blinked green. “And I’ll do what I must.”

Bitch was the first to be released. In exchange, I handed the spray bottle to Dauntless. I’d have to get it back before he flew out of my range, but I’d play along until my tools were returned to me.

“Retreat to safety,” I said.

“Ain’t leaving ‘em behind,” said Bitch. Her dogs were still frozen from Clockblocker’s power.

Grue was next. Armsmaster raised his halberd from Grue’s neck, and shoved him forward. Grue stumbled towards me, his wrists still handcuffed together behind his back. He probably wouldn’t be very useful once I stole the spray bottle back, but I was surprised Armsmaster had let him go at all.

And then I sensed it, all the way inside the school. Tattletale was giving me the signal. The RC car was in place. It was time to release the plague and take down Bakuda. I teleported the spray bottle to the port on the RC car then back into my hand, turned on the automatic spray, and teleported it back to the RC car. Transferred the stamp on the RC car to a tennis ball.

Amy stumbled and blinked, finally unfrozen, and Armsmaster threw his halberd at her neck. I teleported it into my hand, but it disappeared, and reappeared in Armsmaster’s hand, just in time for him to get tackled by… Clockblocker? And Vista – it had only taken one step to cross half the parking lot. Armor clinked on armor, Armsmaster was put on pause, as Amy ran out of my range like a complete moron.

I sensed a commotion behind me. Angelica, Judas, and Bitch had unfrozen and was scrapping with six or so Protectorate capes. They’d need assistance soon, but if we lost Amy everything was over.

Armsmaster grunted, slid out of the frozen armor covering his right forearm, slammed the butt of his halberd into Clockblocker’s neck, and threw his halberd at Amy. I couldn’t teleport it, but Brutus barreled in front halberd, letting it bury into his leg. Armsmaster teleported his halberd back into his hand, and slashed off Brutus’s jaw, slicing through monstrous bone like it was warm butter, reasserting control over the battlefield. That was no good.

I teleported his halberd back into my hand, and Brutus slammed Armsmaster with a bony tail. The halberd vanished once more, and I barely had enough time to open up a couple portals on my torso to redirect Dauntless’s extended arclance back at him. 

Unfortunately he wasn’t squishy like Purity, and the lance deflected lamely off his armored torso. I didn’t have a chance to see him retract the arclance because Grue covered us in darkness. He tried pulling me away, but I sensed a new element entering the battlefield.

Bakuda’s bombs. Moving as fast as their stubby little legs could carry them. I had a feeling the payloads would be stronger than the last time she’d used this tactic. They were still a ways away from me and Grue, but they were getting dangerously close to Bitch and her dogs.

I reached into my sweater, grabbed a rock, tossed it above Grue’s darkness, and teleported up to it.

“Bitch!” I said. “Get outta there!”

Bitch stared at her dogs, hesitating.

Disobeying me!? Fucking disobeying me!

I put a stamp on my glove, jabbed, and teleported a couple jagged rocks into her neck with all the strength of my punch. That got her moving.

Stamped a rock, chucked it straight down, and landed back on the pavement. Stamped another rock, chucked it behind the wrecked porsche next to Regent and Miss Militia. Teleported me and Grue next to them, and Bitch soon as I could.

“Brutus, Judas, Angelica- come!”

Miss Militia ignored us, focusing on the screaming children with hard narrowed eyes. A green mist formed into an automatic in her good left hand and she nodded at Armsmaster. So they were willing to massacre the children? Necessary if not noble- for the first time I could imagine a different world where I’d joined the Wards.

“What are you planning to do with that gun?” Asked Battery. A stupid question from a stupid hero. She and Sere should have worn armor. She hadn’t, that was why she had a nail in her thigh, and could be safely ignored.

“Heroes!” Shouted Armsmaster, finally disengaged from Judas. “Fall back!”

Orders delivered, he continued to pursue Amy.

Dauntless ignored him, scooped up one of the crying children, and was already flying away. Browbeat had picked up a couple kids and was retreating from the battlefield. Gallant was trying to herd a couple more away, whispering false comforts in their doomed ears. Clockblocker, Vista, Velocity, and Assault were working together to connect a wire to as many kids as they could, presumably to put them on pause. Made a certain amount of sense, Clockblocker knew that Amy and I could save the children- he’d seen us do it! He’d fucking seen us! But now he wanted my help?

Just to save a bunch of children?

Okay maybe that was actually a decent reason, but he was still an idiot. It wouldn’t work. Couldn’t. Because Bakuda was staring down at the battlefield, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take out as many of our enemies as possible. A path to victory emerged from the fog at last. Play stupid, maybe send little signals to the heroes, pretend that I’d- hehehe- changed , shepherd the flock to Bakuda’s bombs, help the attack clear out as many enemies as possible. Then strike, when the enemy was emotionally devastated. Miss Militia, the most dangerous of them, was within my range. Teleport her into the sky and let her splatter. Dauntless, Clockblocker, Velocity, Assault, Vista, Gallant, and Browbeat were dead, Triumph was in proximity and would probably be a casualty, and Sere and Battery weren’t in fighting condition. That left Kid Win and Armsmaster as opponents in the aftermath. Kid Win was soft, and could be taken out in the aftermath of the bombs easily. Armsmaster could maybe be overcome by our combined might. I could actually do it. I could destroy all my enemies.

Armsmaster broke pursuit of Amy as Kid Win dove down to the battlefield. Disappointing. So even the best heroes could fall prey to sentimental nonsense. I suppose it was for the best if my toughest competition offed himself on a suicide mission that couldn’t work. Having had firsthand experience fighting them, Armsmaster was the lone bright spot in the Brockton Bay Protectorate. His powers were fine, but nowhere near as versatile as Dauntless or Miss Militia’s. The difference was the creativity, the intelligence, the relentlessness, and ruthlessness with which he utilized his gifts. He was Bakuda’s greatest prize. Once he stepped into her trap, she’d pull the trigger. With him off the board, my victory was inevitable.

It was just… Running? Shouting at them to stop? Really Armsmaster? That wouldn’t work. Not that he had any better options. His powers weren’t conducive to that kind of operation. Not like mine. I could save them. Not all of them of course, but if I took out Clockblocker, I could disrupt the operation that would kill the majority of the heroes.

“Don’t try it,” said Regent. “Remember that these fuckers wanted to birdcage you and arrest me.”

Whatever Regent was implying, I was a little irritated that he presumed to give me orders.

“It’s cold, but I’m with Regent,” said Grue. “We needed a distraction, we’ve got it. Let Bakuda and the Protectorate fight it out.I don’t want the Protectorate to die, but it’s not our problem.”

Clockblocker was the keystone of their operation. Like a marionette, all the strings were connected to his fingers, cut the strings, and the heroes’ operation would fall apart, subsequently saving the majority of them. The problem was that I couldn't penetrate his armor.

I couldn't. But Armsmaster could.

I teleported his halberd into my hand. Luckily the blade had already been activated. I thrust it forward and banished it next to the only point where all the strings connected. The halberd sliced through Clockblocker's armored fingers, severing his connection to the rest of the battlefield, with Velocity, Assault, and all the children he was trying to save.

Armsmaster realized what I’d done, and suddenly we were working together.

“Take out his hoverboard,” said Armsmaster, summoning his halberd, and launching it at Kid Win like an Olympic javelin thrower.

Bakuda detonated the children before I could do anything, lighting up the battlefield like a firework show. Several things happened at once, and yet nothing escaped my notice.

One of kids Browbeat had tried to save had contained a traditional explosive, and its shockwave threw Kid Win off his hoverboard, slamming him onto the concrete from a couple stories up. Bits of Browbeat and the children he’d been holding rained down on the battlefield. Dauntless’s child had turned them both to dust. One of the children tied to Clockblocker’s severed fingers had turned the string and everything touching it to glass. It got Velocity but hadn’t got Assault. A miniature black hole popped into being next to Gallant, sucking him and a few others into it, and then exploded, shattering all the glass that Clockblocker had been duped into distributing throughout the battlefield. I’d saved Assault, Clockblocker, and Vista from being turned to glass, but the shrapnel might be just as lethal.

Triumph had a shard of glass lodged in his throat, Vista had several stuck in her back, but Clockblocker had been protected by his armor and Assault by his power.

Another wave of children exited the school. Assault glanced at Miss Militia, and gave a shallow nod. 

“No,” whispered Battery. “You can’t. They’re children.”

“Children can kill,” said Miss Militia.

“I can take the shot,” I offered.

“No,” said Miss Militia. “This is my responsibility.”

Assault threw Clockblocker, Vista, and Triumph in Amy and Armsmaster’s general vicinity. He disappeared in a blur of red, reappeared by Kid Win, threw him, and then sped to his teammates. The Protectorate had finally cleared the area.

“I’m sorry,” said Miss Militia. She pulled the trigger. After the first few gunshots all I heard was a steady ringing in my ears. I saw the children fall, their little bodies torn apart by bullets. Miss Militia’s face was blank, her breathing even. Battery surprised me, she hadn’t looked away. Thankfully the Protectorate didn’t move to counterattack Bakuda. The Protectorate trying to storm the school would be disastrous for our plans. Unfortunately, what they did was even worse.

Armsmaster had finally caught up to Amy. I still couldn’t make out his exact words, but I could make out the words “cure” “plague” and “birdcage”, reminding everyone that for all his prowess and flexibility on the battlefield, he was just as stupid and inflexible off it. Everything had to be his way. Had to be by-the-book. Nice and orderly. While I halfway agreed with him about the stupidity of the plan I’d been forced to go along with, the fact was that the plague had already been released. If he killed Amy everyone was fucked.

I rounded on him, and everyone’s eyes snapped on me. Strange. They were acting like I was dangerous, unpredictable, but I was only trying to save the city. I just wanted to explain. I’d released the plague a while ago, if they would just wait a few more minutes we’d be able to complete the operation with minimal casualties. We just had to keep Bakuda’s attention occupied for a little while longer, and the nightmare would be over. I saw Armsmaster’s mouth move, could almost make out the words, my hearing cutting in and out.

“...Sorry,” said Armsmaster, the tip of his halberd blurry next to her neck. “Shouldn’t…  so lenient… have arrested… after Glory Girl… My fault. It’s over. I’m calling in an airstri-”

He fell to the ground unconscious, Amy letting her hand slide from his exposed forearm. She held up four fingers. Four minutes. I had to provide four more minutes of distraction. I summoned Armsmaster’s halberd, jabbed it forward, and teleported it a centimeter from Clockblocker’s calf. It sliced right through, and Clockblocker went down hard.

I opened up a few portals on my back, and sprayed the bullets Miss Militia had fired at me right back at her. They missed her, but forced her to take cover, hopefully giving her pause the next time she had the brilliant idea of firing live rounds at me. Unfortunately, she emerged from her cover with an assault rifle jabbed squarely in Regent’s back. Unfortunately, her rifle didn’t register to my power.

I summoned Armsmaster’s halberd back into my palm, and pointed it at Battery.

“Easy, easy,” said Assault, his hands up. “Let’s all take a deep breath.”

He pushed a switch on his shoulder, and nodded at Miss Militia, Battery, and Sere, who repeated the motion.

“You kill our guy, we kill your guy,” said Assault. “Who exactly does that benefit?”

“No one,” Regent answered for me. “You know, I’ve got great respect for you heroes. Your restraint. Very inspiring. I’d like you all to know that I voted against coming here.”

“What’s your proposal then?” I asked.

“We take down Bakuda together,” said Assault. 

“Done,” I said, smiling. “We’ve been trying to help since the beginning.”

Assault really did seem like a decent hero, but what I needed from him was a distraction. I’d attack as soon as he released our team’s valuable tripping hazar- 

Why were Assault and Miss Militia on the ground? Where had Regent gone? Did he have some kind of time manip- Fuck! I scowled and tore the taser hooks off my sweater. I’d gotten careless, I’d let Clockblocker tag me. Clockblocker! Apparently we’d won the battle, but I’d been taken down by fucking Clockblocker which took away any pride I might have felt from our victory. 

Coil’s men were operating on any of the Bakuda’s victims that were still alive. The children were crying, the adrenaline and shock from the battle wearing off, giving them time to think about all the fucked up shit that had happened to them. I stamped a rock, considered chucking it a couple hundred feet and teleporting their bombs to it. Then I thought better of it, and ordered one of Coil’s men to drop the rock in Brockton Bay. The operation would be successful unless I fucked it up by doing something stupid like oh I don’t know, getting careless with a bomb and blowing us all up.

“Look, I’m normally not the person who’d ever agree with Regent, but he’s right,” said Grue. “We’ve got to kill it.”

“He’s not an it,” said Amy angrily, protectively imposing herself between the Undersiders and an oozing pile of flesh with four arms. “He’s Browbeat! You’re all just trying to murder another hero! Knock out what’s left of the Protectorate while they’re vulnerable!”

A balding asian man gave me a sidelong glance, reached into his pocket, waggled his handgun, and shot me a vulpine smile.

“Tell ya what,” said Tattletale. “Let’s go deal with Bakuda, and leave it up to Browbeat’s teammates to decide what to do with him.”

Amy scowled. “...They wouldn’t understand. They’ll think he’s been mastered. And I’m not letting her shoot him either.” Amy held out her hand, and the flesh pile curled around it, covering her in a regenerative oozing second skin. “But I do agree that Bakuda needs to fucking die. So let's go get it over with.”

“Hold on,” I said. “She probably has a dead man’s switch. Let me get a portal in place, and I can make sure she doesn’t take anyone with her.”

“No,” said Amy. “We have to hurry. You said that she was gonna blow up Vicky in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah,” said Tattletale. “She would have, but she’s knocked out courtesy of your plague.”

“What if she has a timer in place?”

“She doesn’t,” said Tattletale. “But all her bombs will go off if her heart stops. We don’t need to hurry, we need to be careful, make sure we have a place to put the bombs in case one of them is more powerful than expected.”

“Fine,” said Amy, pacing back and forth. “But I’m not changing you back until after we save my sister.”

Tattletale scowled, but I understood Amy’s reasoning perfectly. Never give up leverage for free, especially against Tattletale. You never knew what people would do when they held power over you. You never knew who would betray you.

Sometimes, the best you could do was make sure it never happened again.

The edge of Armsmaster’s halberd was no longer blurred. In my hands it was nothing more than a sharp stick. More than sufficient for its purpose. I looked around the battlefield, until I found a certain traitor, the clocks on his armor ticking with each of my steps.

I’d seen what had happened when Emma’s crimes went unchecked. I was doing them a favor really. Keeping them in line with a small consequence for misbehavior. I was merely administering justice.

“What are you doing?” He asked as I hooked a finger under his helmet. I staggered backwards, stunned by the sheer stupidity of the revelation.

Amy’s plague didn’t cause unconsciousness, just paralysis. The victim could still talk, comprehend… Beg. Bakuda had done the same to New Wave, Amy must’ve wanted revenge. I could understand the impulse, but… what if Bakuda’s bombs had voice control? What if she controlled them with her tongue? 

I’d need to consult with Tattletale, and adjust accordingly, but if she hadn’t detonated them yet she probably wouldn’t for a while. There were more important issues at hand.

“Teaching,” I whispered, prying off his helmet, pushing the tip of the Protectorate’s own spear closer, closer, and closer to those pretty eyes, as blue as Emma’s. “My enemies a lesson. Don’t fucking underes-”

Tattletale pulled me away from him, and nodded at Grue. “Cover him up. Nobody has to know.”

I let her pull me a few blocks from the school. Let her use her powers to make sure we were alone. She’d been a team player, taking what was undoubtedly the shittiest role in the operation. She’d helped me save children, exposed Coil to me, and infiltrated Bakuda’s headquarters. I hadn’t been fair to her- I’d seen a pretty extrovert but ignored the deeper differences between the two of them. My most recent betrayal had made that clear. Maybe we really could be friends, or allies at least. 

If she allowed me the justice I was owed.

“No,” said Tattletale.

“He denied meeting us. I needed him to back me up about Purity, and he said he’d never met me,” I said coldly. “He turned on us. I told him how to be a better fighter, and he used it against me. He tagged me. He tagged Bitch’s dogs. I won’t kill him. I just need to ensure he isn’t a threat.”

“No,” said Tattletale. “Crippling a Ward will ruin your li--”

“He betrayed me,” I said. “He was there. He was there. He knew I was trying to help people. He knew what was happening. He knew the truth. He knew the truth. And he lied. He lied. He fucking lied.”

“No,” said Tattletale. “I told him about Coi-”

“He was-” I gasped a breath. “He was just pretending. Just pretending. Pretending to care.”

“No,” said Tattletale. “I told him about C-”

“He’s a traitor. He’s a fucking traitor! He made me think he fucking cared, and then he turned on me, sold me out to impress the popular kids! I’ve been trying so fucking hard to hold back! I’m not asking for her life, just her fucking eyes!”

“I told him to do it,” said Tattletale. “I told him to treat you like a villain if he ever met you again…”

She kept on prattling but I stopped listening. Coil’s man had dropped the rock into the bottom of the bay. I could kill her. We were alone. Nobody would ever know.

Nobody but me. I knew.

That Tattletale didn’t deserve to die.

“You’re lying,” I said firmly, trying not to think too much about it. “I’ll play along for now, but Clockblocker will be put to justice for his treachery.”

We talked about how Bakuda’s bombs worked on our way back to the parking lot. Fortunately, Amy’s stupidity wouldn’t cost us the mission. Bakuda activated her bombs through a ring on her toe, and paralysis of the lower body would fully neutralize her.

Once we were back to Immaculata High’s parking lot, I teleported the bombs inside the children to the bottom of Brockton Bay. It was time. We entered Bakuda’s lair through the front door. We faced no resistance. Tattletale pointed out any bombs or traps obstructing our path, and told me what they did. All kinds of twisted things, and Bakuda’s bombs triggered on contact with metal, like say a scalpel. I put a stamp next to the most promising bomb. Surgeons opened up any minions we came across, I got the explosives out of them, and Amy sealed them back up. We swept through the lair, undoing the damage done by the remnants of the old ABB.

Finally, we entered the auditorium, the spotlight and a news camera permanently on Bakuda’s slumped form. She must have heard our footsteps.

“Please,” begged Bakuda. “Please, Lung forced me to do it! Oni Lee! I was scared of what they were going to do to me!”

She was telling the truth. The first time I’d scouted the ABB, way back before I’d even fought Lung, she’d been testing her bombs on his people. Under his supervision. Under his orders. She’d put her bombs into thousands. She must have started long before I’d taken down Lung.

“I really, really don’t care,” I said from the stands, slowly making my way to the stage.

Bakuda started to cry as soon as she heard my voice. “You… I… I’ve got bombs all over the city. I’ll take them down. I’ll tell everyone the truth. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll never go against you again. I’ll… I’ll work for you. I’ll go to the Birdcage.”

“No,” I said. “You won’t.”

Tattletale hurried past me onto the stage. A shame the first time she’d be on national television she’d have that ugly form. Tattletale fired her handgun, and sliced open Glory Girl’s stomach before her shields came back up. Glory Girl’s lack of protest meant she understood we were trying to help. Surgeons cut open Manpower, Laserdream, and Shielder. I teleported out their bombs.

“Hundreds will die if you kill me,” said Bakuda desperately. “Their deaths will be on you.”

Amy stared at me.

“Yes,” I said. “They will be.”

Tattletale unmasked Bakuda, and cleared the stage.

I teleported one of Bakuda’s own bombs on top of her, and then one final nail. I could have just shot her, given her a quick, clean death. Torturing her wouldn’t give me any joy, it wouldn’t bring back the dead, it wouldn’t be justice. But. I’d exposed Bakuda to the world for a reason. It would give me a tool more useful than any superpower.

Terror.

Those striking asian features, those pretty blue eyes, all warped by fear as they melted like a fleshy popsicle on national television, leaving Bakuda nothing more than a bloody puddle that some poor janitor would have to clean up later.

A series of explosions rocked the city. Dozens.

I closed my eyes for a moment, waited for some feeling of guilt to overwhelm me. Maybe accomplishment? Relief? Joy? Regret? Coldness maybe? Hell I’d take some kind of fucked up sexual pleasure. But no.

Nothing. I felt absolutely nothing.

I wandered to the news camera, just out of sight, and whispered into it, like I was saying sweet nothings in their ear. “Kaiser. Skidmark. Any other villains. Know this. I’m always watching. No matter how far you run, no matter how well you hide, no matter how much you beg, no matter the consequences, this is your fate.”

My message was sent, so I pulled the plug on the camera. I didn’t need anybody to see what happened next.

“Amy,” I said, still feeling nothing, my mind as clear as it had ever been. “Finish the job. What you agreed to.”

“Of course,” Amy said, licking her lips and fixing her hair as she turned her heel from the rest of New Wave and jogged to Glory Girl.

Tattletale frowned, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“No!” Victoria screamed. “No, no, don’t let her touch me! I do not consent, I do not consent!”

Glory Girl’s eyes went dull as soon as Amy’s hand touched her cheek… Huh???

… Wait??? 

Something wasn’t right.

Hadn’t she told me that she couldn’t use her powers quickly enough to master Bakuda before she detonated her bombs? But that had been almost instantaneous, so why had we even bothered with the plague? And why? Why the fuck had I ever let her touch me? Why the fuck had I let her touch Tattletale ? Why the fuck had I ever thought I could control her when she had us on strings?

I’d known that people didn’t change. I’d known Amy was a bad person. I’d known exactly what she would do.

So why the fuck had I given her a second chance? Why the fuck had I let her play me? I’d thought that just because I understood her, I could save her? That was fucking stupid, I’d known it was stupid, and yet I’d done it anyways. I thought I was the exception. I’d thought that I’d never make the same mistake my teachers made, that my principal made. I’d thought I’d known better. I’d thought I was different.

I was wrong.

The Queen’s delighted laughter filled the school.

“You were right about me, Everywhere,” said Amy, sneering at me. “It was all just a plot, even if I refused to admit it at first, at least until I got my hands on Tattletale and made her trust me. You were all just tools to give me another shot at Vicky. The plague was never for Bakuda, I made it just for you, because when you said you’d kill me if I stepped out of line, I believed you. You didn’t need me then. You do now. Because I know you, Everywhere. Deep down, you want to be a good person. Deep down, you want to help people. Deep down, you want to be a hero . And heroes don’t condemn entire continents to death to stop one little worm from the happiness she deserves. Beneath all your blustering bullshit, you’re as soft and gullible as the rest of the Protectorate. You really thought I could be redeemed, didn’t you? And that you were so special, that you and you alone, could save me. You thought you were my savior. Well thank you. For saving me. I really, really appreciate it.”

Glory Girl leaned in and gave Amy a deep, wet kiss, and scooped her up in her arms.

It had happened again, I’d been betrayed. But this made Emma and Clockblocker’s betrayals seem trivial. I struggled to comprehend the sheer scale of it. I could hardly even think.

I teleported Tattletale’s gun into my hand, and lined up the sights on Amy. “Return her to normal.”

Glory Girl turned, so she was protecting Amy with her back.

“I’m going to fly away now,” said Amy. “And have some fun. We both know you won’t kill me, hero . Not when you need me to turn Tattletale back to normal, not when you still need me to create a cure for this plague. And to be clear this isn’t a bluff. It’s airborne already, spreading already, and it creates permanent paralysis after 15 minutes. If you kill me you’re looking at a couple hundred million casual-”

I pulled the trigger. Twice.

Glory Girl cried out in pain from the bullet I’d put through her heart, and dropped Amy back down to earth. Amy coughed up blood, but it was just cosmetic. Browbeat’s flesh had kept the shot from penetrating to her heart. No matter. I still had one more bullet in the clip.

I closed the distance with the most powerful parahuman on the planet. “Brockton Bay will burn. I’m going to use Armsmaster’s cellphone. Explain that they need to order an airstrike on us. You’re not walking out of here alive.”

I’d wanted to save the city, but I’d gotten arrogant. I’d thought I could afford to be lenient. When Amelia Dallon had fallen into my lap, I’d so badly wanted control over her power that I’d let it blind me from an obvious truth. Amy was too dangerous, too reckless, too selfish to be allowed to live. She was the girl who would destroy the world. It would have been so easy to kill her earlier- all it would have cost me was my career, my reputation, and probably my life- now it would cost me everything.

It had been my mistake. Fixing it was my duty. My purpose.

“Wait,” said Amy, holding up her hands, sliding away from me, her back lubricated by Browbeat’s blood. “Wait! I can do it. I’ll change her back! I’ll change her back!”

Tattletale nodded, and I teleported the gun back into her hands.

“Shoot her when she deviates.” It wasn’t a question of if.

Tattletale pressed the handgun to the back of Amy’s skull, and Amy went to work on Glory Girl. Closed up the bullet wounds, the incision in her stomach courtesy of Tt, and soon enough Glory Girl was awake once more.

She shook off Amy, glowered down at her. “This doesn’t make up for what you did to me.” And then Victoria Dallon flew through the ceiling.

Amy stared up at the hole in wonder.

“I did it. I actually fucking did it. Thank you,” she said quietly. “You’re not a good person. You’re the monster I needed.”

Oh I see, she’d changed. I’d reformed a troubled child. That was nice. Very nice. Very cute. 

But it didn’t really make me feel much of anything. I had her create and release a cure for her plague and then considered my options. Should I just let her bleed out? Without medical treatment- no wait. I could already feel Browbeat’s flesh wriggling into the bullet wounds. With her power she could perform surgery on herself and sterilize her wounds. Maybe there would be some scarring, but no permanent damage.

Armsmaster had been right about her. She had to die. She struggled with impulse control and could destroy the world in one bad afternoon. I had no doubt that she genuinely felt grateful to me, that she really did want to be a good person, but gratitude wouldn’t last, and soon she’d be justifying why just this one time she ought to be allowed to cut loose. There would always be an excuse.

If I forgave her, let her back into the Undersiders, wouldn’t that just be enabling her behavior? Wouldn’t that make me just like all the teachers and administrators I hated?

Amy had betrayed me. She’d taken the entire world hostage. There needed to be a consequence for that. Something permanent, something more than stern words.

I summoned Armsmaster’s halberd. I gripped the polearm a few inches below its blade – for better control. I didn’t want to kill her, just administer some good old fashioned justice- the kind Principal Blackwell disapproved of. This time, Tattletale didn’t stop me.

“Panacea you get one more chance. One. But,” I said, shoving Armsmaster’s halberd into her right eye. “Don’t ever fucking underestimate me again.”

Chapter Text

Author’s Note: Thanks to Two Pence for betareading, helping improve Tt’s nefarious plot, and trying the best he could to make Clockblocker come off as less of a dick. Sorry this is so short. I had some other interludes fully written for both Victoria and Armsmaster, but they occurred later in the story’s timeline, and there’s some lighter Taylor stuff that’s needed before we plunge everything in darkness again. I’m also looking for someone who would be willing to help me brainstorm the plot of the arc and overall story. Big picture stuff. Let me know in the comments if you’re interested.

ooOoo

“...I do understand the need for reinforcements. You will be receiving Weld from Philadelphia and Flechette from Buffalo,” said Chief Director Costa-Brown. “Furthermore, several villains have expressed interest in joining the Wards. Uber, Leet, Rune, and Othella.”

Rune and Othella. On a team with Shadow Stalker. Yeah, that seemed like a really good idea. Dennis would be lucky not to lose any more fingers.

“Do you have a problem?” Asked Chief Director Costa-Brown. “Miss Militia.”

“No, it’s just…” Miss Militia struggled to find the words to politely tell the oh-so-important woman that her plan sounded like it had been concocted by the fucking Simurgh. “Some of the Wards will have difficulty overlooking some of the recruits’ backgrounds.”

“The former Empire members? Aegis is still out of commission, Clockblocker is on crutches, Battery and Sere are still in recovery,” said Chief Director Costa-Brown. Panacea had healed the wounds on Vista and Triumph, but declined to heal anything less than lethal. Well fine, he hadn’t wanted to be healed by some no-good villain anyway- nah, having fingers and the ability to walk was totally overrated. And oh yeah, since she’d had to heal them from her little plague he’d still had to go through extensive master/stranger screening anyway, so thanks a ton Panacea. “Your team is in desperate need of a healer. Othella is a healer. You made it work with Shadow Stalker. Rune and Othella followed a detestable ideology, yes, but if you could find it in your heart to work with a murderer, I’m sure you can work with a couple racists.”

 “Shadow Stalker was never convicted of murder,” said Miss Militia.

Chief Director Costa-Brown stared for a moment and sighed. “If we don’t accept Rune and Othella into our ranks, do you think they’ll just disappear? I’m not asking you to run a team of boy scouts. I’m asking you to field a team of capes that will keep the city above water. Can you?”

“Just have Rune and Othella patrol together,” said Clockblocker. “And don’t ask too many questions about what goes on during them.”

That’s how Armsmaster had dealt with Shadow Stalker. Or at least that’s how Dennis had dealt with it. He didn’t know what she got up to when she ditched him on patrol, and he didn’t want to know. He just reported it and went on his way. She never got in trouble for it, so everything had to be cool right?

Chief Director Costa-Brown regarded him. “I would strongly recommend that you reconsider my offer to transfer to Los Angeles. It would be a promotion for your exemplary performance against Squirter. If we’d understood your full capabilities, we’d have never put in Brockton Bay. You’d be under the personal tutelage of Alexandria, and your father would be receiving the best health care the world has to offer.”

“Brockton Bay is my home,” said Clockblocker firmly.

Chief Director Costa-Brown stared. “I will not force you to transfer. But if you choose to stay, it will go on your record. It may permanently limit your ability to advance. The Protectorate is looking for capes committed to bettering themselves.”

“That’s fine,” said Clockblocker. “I’m still staying.”

Miss Militia’s small smile was gone almost as soon as it appeared, but it was enough to reaffirm his decision. Brockton Bay was home. And he had unfinished business.

“Good,” said their new local director. “Every cape helps. The Undersiders and the Empire will come into conflict. Difficult as it is, we’ll remain neutral, only entertaining a few skirmishes to train the new recruits. Then we’ll strike hard and fast, and drive the Undersiders out of Brockton Bay for good.”

“Yeah,” said Clockblocker. “We just lost to them with Dauntless and Armsmaster, but who needs ‘em? We’re replacing them with Uber and Leet, how can we possibly lose?”

“Firepower was never the issue,” said the new director. “Your talents were improperly utilized. Piggot was a fine director, but she struggled to anticipate and counter enemy plans. I only ask for a chance. If I fail to deliver victory, I’ll resign.”

“You have my full confidence,” said Chief Director Costa-Brown, standing from her seat at the head of the table, and staring at the new director. “I expect Brockton Bay to be free of villainy by the end of the month. Squirter and especially Panacea are to be taken alive or not at all. Capture them if you can, recruit them to your cause if possible, but your primary purpose is to ensure that they do not do anything that requires a trip to the birdcage or a kill order. In the case of an Endbringer attack, they are each individually larger assets than the rest of the entire branch. Make no mistake who I will sacrifice if you force my hand. No further changes will be made to your team. You will find a way to meet your goals with the people in the building. You’ve served the Protectorate faithfully so far, and whatever outsiders may think, you’re saving lives.”

“Yes ma’am,” said the rest of the table.

“They’re asking for the impossible,” said Clockblocker, once he and Miss Militia were alone in the conference room. “This is totally fucked! They’re setting you up to fail! They’re treating goddam villains better than they’re treating you!”

Miss Militia chuckled. “It’s sweet that you’re worrying about me, Dennis. I’ll be fine.”

Right, Miss Militia had been the one who’d gunned down the children at Immaculata High. She was a former child soldier, she’d fought in real wars, probably followed the orders of actual war lords. So yeah, Miss Militia wasn’t gonna be fazed by a professional setback. Hard to remember how ruthless she could be because she wasn’t a giant dildo.

She was just a hero. A leader Dennis would follow happily.

“I tagged her once,” said Clockblocker. “I can do it again. She’s not unbeatable.”

“Perhaps,” said Miss Militia. “But if you see her on patrol, only engage if she does first. Otherwise, retreat.”

“Alright,” said Clockblocker. He didn’t need to give Miss Militia one more thing to worry about.

It took him about an hour to get from the Protectorate Headquarters, now underground, to the hospital holding Dad.

“I heard what you did,” Dad said. “That you and Vista saved Brockton Bay and that you almost managed to clockblock the vile Squirter from her nefarious deeds.”

Dennis grunted. He didn’t remember any of it, and couldn’t find it in himself to feel good about anything that had happened.

“Ehh,” said Dad. “Maybe it’s for the best that your clockblock didn’t take, and the Squirter got her mark. There are worse things than killing terrorists, sex traffickers, and nazis.”

Dennis hadn’t told Dad that Everywhere was the reason he’d lost four of his fingers on his right hand and couldn’t walk without crutches. Of course, she’d also saved his life... And Vista’s… And fine, Assault, Triumph, and probably Kid Win too, credit where it’s due. So yeah, he didn’t really know how he felt about her.

Probably like Dad. She was kind of a dildo, but hey- there were definitely worse people out there, and if she wanted to take ‘em down, fine by him.

“Like having a son with superpowers who still somehow can’t land a girlfriend,” said Dad chipperly. “But you’re gonna get things turned around, now that you’re a big shot. Women love war heroes.”

“Can’t unmask,” said Dennis absently.

“You don’t need to,” said Dad. “You saved the city. You’ve accomplished more than most capes do in their entire career. You’ve got well-earned confidence, there’s nothing more attractive than that.”

Great. Talking about his sex life with his Dad, every boy’s greatest dream. Actually it was kinda nice. Dad must’ve been feeling good if he was trying to be funny.

109/87. Ideally his blood pressure would be in the 120’s, but still better than it had been in months. Blood oxygen at 96%, also the best in months. His skin was looking better and he was apparently well enough to use a pee bottle instead of a catheter. It was a good week, but there had been good weeks before. He hadn’t started a new treatment, and the only cape who could realistically help him was…

“A couple girls came by earlier,” said Dad cheerfully. “Wished me the best, and went on their way. They wanted me to give you this.”

He handed Dennis an envelope with a little heart stamp attached to it.

“Did one of them have brown, curly hair?”

“No,” said Dad. “Both of them were blonde. But the one who gave me the letter… Helluva job Dennis, helluva job.”

Amy Dallon had worn a wig. Fuck, why would they…

Oh that’s right. They needed someone on the inside, to take down a villain who’d infiltrated the Protectorate named Coil. At least according to Tattletale, the Undersiders were actually an unofficial branch of the Protectorate. Funny how all those important memories came back a few moments after he’d touched the envelope. It was almost as if they’d been tampered with so he could slip through master/stranger screening.

Inside the envelope was almost certainly a portal, along with the identity of the mysterious villain cape.

He waited until he was safely alone in a bathroom stall to open the envelope. Inside was a penny- which probably, totally wasn’t an Everywhere death trap- and two words.

Thomas Calvert.

“So whaddya say?” Asked Tattletale. “Wanna help us kill your new boss?”

Everywhere glared at him from a corner of the stall, tall and spindly like a spider. “I don’t trust you.”

Clock’s heart felt like it was gonna jump right out of his chest. So he was scared of Everywhere, she’d put a fucking spear through his legs and had to be talked out of scooping out his eyeballs. Maybe it had been an act to help him keep his cover, but it sure as hell had seemed genuine at the time.

“By the way,” said Tattletale. “Don’t tell your Dad he’s healed. Our dearest director would pick up on it in a second, and have us both killed. Your dad’s gonna make a slow but believable recovery instead.”

“Coil can split a timeline and choose which one he prefers,” said Everywhere. “And we’re not sure how far his infiltration into the Protectorate goes.”

“Or if it’s even an infiltration,” said Tattletale, shooting him a vulpine smile. “The Undersiders are but an unofficial branch of the Protectorate with much much higher pay, remember? You go tell Alexandria or Eidolon and maybe they help you out, or maybe they hang you out to dry for exposing their secrets.”

“If Coil catches you,” said Everywhere. “He will torture you, loop back to his previous save point, and torture you again. You wouldn’t retain your memories, but you’d still have to live through the pain. Again and again and again-”

“Or his power may work via memories sent back of a hyper-realistic simulation,” said Tattletale enthusiastically. “I’m agnostic as to whether the universes he creates are real or not. Same basic problem as solipsism, y’know?”

Everywhere shot Tattletale an annoyed look.

“Oh but he’ll definitely kill you,” said Tattletale cheerfully. “And us. So yeah, don’t snitch, just put the penny we gave you somewhere near his office and we’ll take care of the rest. Anywhere within 300 feet should be fine.”

Was working with the Undersiders really a good idea? What evidence did he really have, other than Tattletale’s word? Sure she’d been right about a lot of things, but now she was asking him to turn on his team, help take out the head of their branch, wasn’t that exactly what a villain would do?

“Sure it is,” said Tattletale. “But I’ve unmasked. I’ve given you my secret identity. If you think I’m taking you for a ride you can destroy me with a word.”

“If you do that, or betray us in any other way, I’ll kill you,” said Everywhere. “I tagged you while you were unconscious. At any time, from anywhere, I can stri-”

“Not helping Tay,” said Tattletale. “What might is giving him your identity. A sign of trus-”

“No,” said Everywhere. “Trust isn’t a reliable source of control. A mission statement is all well and good, but the reason people follow their boss’s orders is because if they don’t they’ll be fired. If we’re going to risk everyones’ lives on his cooperation we need some consequences to ensure his obedience.”

“Aww don’t be like that Tay Tay,” said Tattletale. “And don’t worry about her threat. Her power doesn’t work like that.”

“Aww fuck it, I’ll do it,” said Clockblocker, before Tattletale could annoy Everywhere into killing him to make a point.  He’d already made his decision when he’d blatantly lied to Armsmaster about having never met Everywhere. He trusted them on this. Simple as that.

“You’re not going to ask for evidence?” Asked Everywhere.

“Naw,” said Clockblocker. “I met ole’ Thomas Calvert. He seemed all too happy to stab my favorite Pig in the back.”

Director Piggot had been an asshole. She’d treated them like loose cannons, weapons who in a perfect world would be jailed. She’d kept her contempt private, but not hidden. Calvert talking shit about her wasn’t exactly strange, but he’d seemed to fucking delight in trashing her. That wasn’t even getting into the weird doublespeak going on between Costa-Brown and Calvert. When she’d told him not to kill Everywhere or Panacea had she been talking to Director Calvert or Coil?

“Awesome,” said Tattletale. “Consider yourself an unofficial Undersider.”

Everywhere gave a strangled grunt.

“First order of business. Gonna need a villain name,” said Clockblocker. “Man-of-Pause? Secs Stopper?”

“Too similar to your old name,” said Tattletale. “The Pink Pauser?”

“I’m not wearing pink,” said Clockblocker, smirking. Maybe things would actually turn out alright, because for all their infamy, the Undersiders were just a bunch of teenagers, same as him. 

Everywhere yanked him close. “Do you really understand the situation you’re in? The Protectorate has been infiltrated. We don’t know how high things go. Even if everything somehow goes right, you’re going to have to defect once we make our move.”

“I understand,” said Clockblocker. “I’m still in.”

Everywhere nodded.

It wasn’t much of a decision. The fact of the matter was he believed them. The Protectorate had been… Infiltrated… And they were the only ones who could do anything about it. The fate of the city rested in their hands. Shit.

Brockton Bay was kinda fucked wasn’t it? Because for all their infamy, the Undersiders were just a bunch of teenagers, same as him.

Chapter Text

A/N: Big thanks to Two Pence for beta reading this chapter!

ooOoo

“Call off your dogs!” Grue shouted. “Call off your dogs NOW!”

“Needs to be done,” Bitch grunted. “Don’t matter what she says. A traitor is a traitor.”

Panacea cried out in pain as a rottweiler’s teeth shredded her wrists. Her knees buckled and a German Shepard and a hairless terrier were barking and snapping at her face. Luckily for Bitch, Panacea curled up into a ball and wet herself instead of using her powers to turn the dogs inside out.

“She can heal your dogs,” said Tattletale desperately, as Regent popped a frozen philly cheese steak in the microwave. “She can bring back Brutus’s tail and Judas’s eye!”

I was rapidly running out of patience with the entire situation.

“Enough pretty words,” said Bitch. “She’ll fucking get u-”

Grue interrupted her with a slap, and Bitch whistled- called off the dogs at last.

“I fucking hate it,” said Grue. “When you make me do that.”

Panacea trembled on the ground still curled up in the fetal position, soaked in a puddle of her own urine. Browbeat’s flesh slowly wrapped around her, hugging her.

Grue berated Bitch, but she just looked past him and shot Panacea a mean, smug sneer of a smile.

Dumb, dumb, dumb! Why the fuck was everyone being so fucking dumb! Yeah I got where Bitch was coming from, but Panacea was waayy out of her weight class. Ever heard of picking a fight you can fucking win? And if not, at the very least attack hard enough to prevent retaliation! If Bitch was gonna pull a stunt like this, the least she could do was transform her dogs first instead of taking ineffective half measures and leaving the rest of us to clean up her mess.

And Grue was being needlessly soft. The slap had been good, but words were just words. Pretty, but they weren’t gonna do anything to actually solve the problem. It reminded me of some of my teachers back at Winslow. Especially Mr Gladly and all the shit he’d said to me. He’d been happy to give me some kind words of support, but actually helping me- doing the unpleasant work of dissuading Madison from being  such a colossal cunt had been too much for him. Afterall, if he actually did his job she might not want to be his fucking friend.

I shuffled up to Bitch and Grue, and kicked her head like it was a soccer ball. I held her face down against the hardwood floor of our headquarters, applying a knee to the small of her back.

“If you whistle,” I said. “I’m gonna teleport you into Protectorate Headquarters. Nod if you understand.”

Bitch nodded.

“How’d you manage getting one of your stamps in there?” Asked Regent, taking a bite out of his sandwich and spitting it out into his hand. “Fuck! Burnt my fucking tongue!”

I ignored him.

“You should thank Panacea,” I said softly. “She could have killed your dogs. Easily. If she can rewire a brain like she did Glory Girl, she can shut them off just as easily. She didn’t. Bitch, I’m going to give you a warning, but this goes for all of you.

“We don’t fight between ourselves. Spars are fine, arguments are fine, but if you brawl… If you use your powers against your teammates. Then you become just another villain to me- worse than one really, you become a liability, an unreliable tool. To be clear, Bitch, this means I kill you. Am I understood?”

Bitch nodded.

I let Bitch get up. “You’re cleaning this up,” I said to her, pointing at Panacea’s piss. “And Panacea gets three free punches on you at a time of her choosing.”

Bitch snarled at me but went to get a mop. She could snarl all she wanted as long as she was compliant.

“And Panacea,” I said. “There will be no further retaliation. Understand? Tattletale, get her a change of clothes.”

“Thank you,” said Panacea quietly as I helped her to the bathroom, her face all red from adrenaline. I felt something slimy slide against my arm. Browbeat.

I grunted. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

ooOoo

Browbeat rushed at me. I tripped as I stumbled backward, making little waves from the fruit roll up wrappers Regent had left on the floor of our headquarters.

I was angry. At Browbeat for betraying me after I’d stuck my neck out for him, at myself for letting him. When was I ever gonna learn? Never trust anyone, ever.

Betrayal was inevitable.

Browbeat pulled back, cackling. I sensed Regent stand in the other room. When he pulled open the door he was laughing in the exact same cadence.

Oh I see. It had all been a joke. On me. How fucking funny.

The easy thing to do would be to let it slide, pretend I was cool with it, maybe play along. I’d made that mistake with Sophia, with Emma at first. I’d thought that after all we’d been through together a few cruel barbs could be ignored. It had just made me look weak.

“Never,” I said. “Do that again. I could have killed him.”

Or worse, teleported him to the stamp Clockblocker had placed in the Protectorate. Regent had almost made me blow our entire operation for a fucking joke.

“That would’ve made it even funnier,” said Regent chipperly, making Browbeat pick his nose and flick a booger at me. I teleported it away without a second glance. “You should see the look on your face.”

Regent would need to be disciplined for this. Later. Not in front of Browbeat. I knew how much the so-called heroes hated anything resembling accountability, they were the team of second chances. And third, and fourth, and fifth… Unless of course you were unpopular and actually tried to hold a powerful cape to the PRT’s own standards, that- apparently- was unforgivable.

It was a lesson in bureaucratic power. I’d always wondered why none of the teachers had stood up to Emma, done what was right. The ones who would have had already been fired.

“Release him,” I said.

In a moment, Browbeat was Browbeat again. He glared down at me. “I should have snapped your neck when I had the chance.”

Amy scowled at him.

I nodded at Regent. “Do it.”

Browbeat was picking his nose once more. If he stood against us, Regent could master him in moments.

“It won’t work,” said Browbeat, as soon as Regent had released him. “This plan to use me to infiltrate the PRT. The first thing they’ll do is screen me and make sure I haven’t been mastered. It’ll just be another fight.”

Really? They’d fight me because I let him go? Of course they would. Try to do something good, and your enemies would exploit it. Obvious Tay, obvious. The middle-class morality my parents had taught me was a luxury in the real world; winners and losers were determined by force and domination. My job was to be as good a person as I could while still being strong enough to defeat the monsters.

“Easy there Humpty Dumpty,” Tattletale chirped, slinging an arm over my shoulder. I bristled at her impudence. “You were a pile of slime this morning, one that Panacea was wearing for body armor. My friend here talked her into putting you back together again. She wanted to release you, but I was afraid that you’d turn against us as soon as we did anything even slightly nefarious. And we can’t have that, can we? So your friend Everywhere got ole Regent here to master you, so the good folks in the PRT have no choice but to transfer you. You get to walk free and we don’t have to worry about fighting you. Problem solved.”

“Oh,” said Browbeat.

“Oh,” said Tattletale. “What was that about wanting to snap her neck again?”

“I misjudged you,” said Browbeat. “I’m sorry. Whatever else the two of you have done, you saved my life. So thank you.”

Panacea preened at the praise. I didn’t understand why she cared. As if a few words could make everything okay, erase that he’d threatened to kill me. He’d shown his colors. As if I gave a shit about him or anything he said.

Whatever. As I watched him waddle out of our headquarters like an obese duck, I felt a bit of relief. He’d been an issue and I’d resolved it. That’s really all I’d done it for, so I had one less thing to worry about.

“He probably isn’t exactly as he was before,” said Panacea. “I had to do some guesswork on his brain. He’ll have some spots in his memories. Do you think that’ll be okay? I really wasn’t trying to master him.”

“He’s fine,” I said. It was done. It was one thing to analyze past work for technical weaknesses that your enemies might find and exploit, but judging the morality of decisions made on the battlefield after the fact was for the loser journalists in TIME who had no idea what they were talking about. Claiming I was the next… They didn’t know, they hadn’t been there! That girl had been deformed and yeah- maybe I could have saved her after I’d recruited Panacea, but I hadn’t known that…

Okay, maybe I had made some mistakes in the past, but I’d thought I’d been doing the right thing at the time. I might not be able to say that I’d been a good person, but I’d always tried my best. TIME, CNN, Fox and CBS were all a bunch of PRT shills who were too scared or stupid to see the obvious good I was doing. They should have been thanking me. At least one of them should have been thanking me. None of them even tried. Instead they tried to paint me as the next…

It didn’t matter. They were just bullies, no different than Emma or Madison.

“Oh,” said Panacea. “Well um… That’s good.”

“Hey, nobody expects perfection,” said Tattletale. “If it weren’t for you he’d be dead. His parents have a son because of you. Do you really think they’ll care about a few differences?”

“So much of him is different though,” said Panacea. “Can he still even be considered Browbeat anymore?”

“Yes,” I said. 

“It’s just so risky to make such big changes,” said Panacea. “I’m never sure if I’m actually healing them back exactly right.”

“Yeah,” said Regent. “You made Tats’s tits slightly bigger when you put her back together. Big fan of the change personally, but it does raise an interesting point.”

Panacea spluttered through an unconvincing denial. Tattletale glanced down at her chest.

“Why are you so focused on your sister?” Asked Regent. “I get having the hots for her, but you can literally make anyone look exactly like her. Why don’t you find a fan, use your power to make them look like Glory Girl, and then fuck the shit out of them? I bet there are plenty of people who’d do it if it meant sleeping with a cape.”

“I would never do something like that,” said Panacea, looking over at me with her one eye. “It’s wrong! Disgusting! I’ve changed! I won’t give in to temptation ever again!”

Regent laughed. “Anyone wanna bet on how long that lasts? I give her five days.”

“Two,” said Tattletale.

“This isn’t a fucking game,” said Panacea heatedly. “I’m not gonna do anything like that ever again. I understand that it’s wrong now, that I can do better.”

“Do you?” Asked Tattletale. “Because I don’t recall asking you to make any changes to my perfect tits. Crazy as it sounds, some of us actually like our bodies.”

“Yeah well,” said Panacea, “Like I said, mistakes happen with big changes. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to redo your whole fucking body if you were that worried about perfection.”

“A mistake is fine,” said Tattletale. “But it wasn’t a mistake, was it?”

Panacea was silent for a moment, then scowled. “It was an improvement. I made you better, prettier, you should be thanking me.”

Tattletale’s eyes darted to mine and then back to Panacea. “I’m fine with it. I let you make the change, but if I’d been anyone else, do you even understand why it would have been wrong?”

Panacea opened her mouth, closed it. Looked around the room in a panic, like one of us would give her an answer. “Um… Because… Because using my powers like that is wrong?”

Tattletale groaned. “Do you even understand why mastering Victoria made her angry?”

“Alright, how about no,” said Panacea. “It must be so easy, looking down at me. For being tempted. You just don’t understand, and you never will. I wondered how you could be so cruel until I touched you, saw everything you are Tattletale. You’re asexual, you’ll never understand love. You think you’re so smart, you’re fucking clueless to 90% of what other people are going through. That’s why you can be so cruel, so callous, because when it comes to what makes life worth living you’re just a stupid child.”

I leaned in. Panacea had asked for it. Just this once, I could enjoy the artistry of Tattletale’s invective.

“I’m not asexual,” said Tattletale weakly. “It’s just… my powers… I’m not.”

Huh… Not what I’d been expecting. Felt a little… Personal. Inappropriate. Invasive. Of course, Tattletale definitely had it coming, but… Not from Panacea. That’s why it felt so wrong, because it had come from Panacea.

I put a hand on Tattletale’s shoulder.

“Of course I understand that it was wrong,” said Panacea, glaring at me. “That Vicky didn’t feel that way about me, and that she wouldn’t like it. Not at first. But I could make her happier than anyone. I could use my powers to make every nerve in her body scream in ecstacy, all at once, longer and more intensely than Gallant or anyone else could even dream of. I could make her feel so good that she’d never be able to forget it. Eventually, she would be grateful.”

For a moment, everyone was silent.

“Well that sounds fucking awesome,” said Regent. “Mind running a test case?”

Panacea smiled nervously.

“No,” said Grue. “It’s rape. That’s why it’s wrong. Because it’s rape. She didn’t give consent. Even if you made her feel… good… it would still be rape.”

“Did you not hear the part about having every fucking nerve in your body orgasm at once?” Asked Regent. “Repeatedly and forever? I doubt even dear old Dad could do that.”

“For context,” said Tattletale. “Dear old Dad is Heartbreaker. Is that what you want to turn your Sis into? A mindless sex puppet? And here I thought love meant wanting the best for the other person- respecting them- wanting to help them.”

Panacea squirmed. “I just… I get it alright? You win, are you happy? I don’t deserve to get anything I want, I can never be happy- I get it.”

She didn’t. She really, really didn’t.

“If you master somebody without our consent,” I said. “I’m taking your other eye. Am I understood?”

Grue and Tattletale frowned. Maybe I was being too soft by only threatening an eye? They were probably right. It had been a mistake, but rescinding my words now would make me look weak.

“In most cases you shouldn’t master somebody against their will either,” said Tattletale quietly. “There are some exceptions… Not many.”

There were actually plenty of exceptions, but now probably wasn’t the best time to point that out.

Panacea nodded. “It’s not like I was going to do it anyways. Besides, I did turn Vicky back in the end. I know it’s wrong. I do. I know it’s rape. I understand. But…”

“But,” I said. “If you can find someone in the ABB who’s up for it, I don’t see anything wrong with Regent’s suggestion. You can make them look like Victoria, have some fun, experiment, as long as you don’t master them without running it by us first.”

“Okay,” said Panacea. “Maybe I’ll give it a try. See if it helps.”

I’d had enough chit-chat, it was time to move onto the next item on the agenda. I asked the rest of the Undersiders a few questions about our general strategy. What were we going to do about the ABB? What were our next steps?

“We should just disband them,” I said. “I’m willing to protect them from other capes, but I’m not going to allow hard drugs or prostitution in my territory.”

Panacea nodded along vigorously, in a way that was just a little off-putting.

“Can you enforce that?” Asked Tattletale. “People need money. You can tell them not to do something all you like, but if there’s money to be made, someone is going to do it.”

“I’m not going to allow hard drugs or prostitution in my territory,” I said.

“Then we should make overtures of an unofficial alliance with New Wave,” said Grue. “Get more firepower. Also, what was the deal with you and Clockblocker?”

“Nothing,” I said. The fewer people involved against Coil the better. Anyone could betray you.

Tattletale sighed, and motioned for the team to meet her outside. Once we were clear of headquarters, she started sharing.

“Our boss is a villain named Coil,” said Tattletale. “His true identity is Thomas Calvert, and he’s the new director of the Brockton Bay Protectorate. He created us as a false flag operation. He’ll probably help us eliminate the Empire, but at some point we become loose ends. Especially now that you know his identity.”

Bitch growled. “You knew? You dragged us in?”

“No fighting,” I said sharply.

“He had me at gunpoint,” Tattletale said, shrugging. “I did what I could. Kept some money in reserve from every job. Made some overtures to his mercenaries. But now we have control of the ABB. We have more power than Lung ever did. Sure we can throw it away, but wouldn’t it be better to use it? We have control over thousands of men, we need to figure out how to use them.”

“I didn’t get in this for power,” I said.

“That’s right,” said Tattletale. “You wanted to make Brockton Bay just a little better, but besides eliminating the bullies, what does that even mean?”

“That isn’t really my job,” I said. “I was given powers to elimin-”

“And now you’ve been given the ABB,” said Tattletale. “Thousands willing to follow you. What are you going to do with it?”

I… I didn’t…

I’d never asked for…

“There’s garbage everywhere in the Docks,” said Tattletale. “If we create a temporary dump, you can use your powers to teleport the garbage to a real one. It’s a big project, but we can use the ABB to create a little landfill, and use junior members to pick up the trash to fill it.”

… That was…

Um… Okay, maybe that would make the city better, but… I was um… I’d been given superpowers, I’d defeated Lung, Bakuda, Oni Lee, and Purity. It wasn’t that garbagemen were unimportant, but I mean… My powers weren’t meant for small acts like beautifying the city. Besides, trash may have been smelly, but it’s not like it hurt anyone. With all due humility, it would be a waste of my talents.

Grue snorted. “Gangsters will never do something so menial. They’ll see it as beneath them. Maybe if we could offer them some money, but like I said, we don’t have any. And that’s a problem. Bad as Lung was, at least he kept things from devolving into total chaos. Kept his men from infighting. If you dissolve the ABB, there’s gonna be a dozen tiny gangs with territorial disputes by the end of the month.”

Tattletale’s lip twitched, and she shot me a vulpine smile.

“Drugs are the main problem,” I said, thinking more clearly now. I needed to attack the larger problems in Brockton Bay, not minor puff pieces. “They’re destroying the city almost as much as Kaiser. We need to get them out.”

“Congratulations,” said Grue bitterly. “You agree with basically everyone. The question is how.”

“No, not everyone,” said Regent. “I want drugs. Coke is fun. Heroin is fun. And plain old life is dreadfully tedious. Sure they’re dangerous, but we’re capes- it’s not like any of us are going to live long enough for it to matter. Besides, I can just use Panacea to heal me up good as new.”

“No,” I said. “I need you sober in case we come under attack.”

Regent yawned. “Do you have to be a dork about everything? No fighting. No drugs. Even the Birdcage probably isn’t this restrictive.”

Grue punched Regent in the shoulder. “If I find out you’ve been doing drugs, I’ll-”

“You’ll be off the squad,” I said. “Have fun dealing with the Empire and the Protectorate on your own.”

Regent scowled. “What do you have against fun?”

It wasn’t the fun I opposed, it was the dereliction of duty. Not to mention the example it would set to the other ABB members. Besides, it was loathsome, unattractive, and intolerable to be anything but your best. I wouldn’t have my gang hollow themselves out into husks, in pursuit of simple fleeting pleasure.

“Maybe you can stop him. Maybe you can even stop all of us from doing them,” said Tattletale. “But Regent’s right. If people want to do drugs, they’ll do them. And there’s no way you can stop the addicts. They can’t even stop themselves.”

Maybe. Maybe not.

“We could create a drug that acts exactly like heroin, or crack, or meth, or whatever else, but that isn’t addictive or physically harmful,” I said. “Maybe test and see how much can reduce the psychoactive elements while keeping it an attractive alternative. Shorten the amount of time it lasts, and keep it from working more than once a day.”

It was based off of one of the books Mom had made me read. Soma from Brave New World. I wasn’t sure how well it would do as a replacement, but it would help alleviate tensions with the former drug dealers in my gang. That would allow me to focus on eliminating the Empire, rather than waste time purifying my ranks.

“I could do it,” said Panacea. “Sure. I could make a drug like that. Could I make enough to replace all the drugs in the city? No.”

“Maybe you don’t have to,” said Tattletale, sitting on top of the trunk of a car smugly. “A couple of the ABB members I interviewed had experience mass producing vaccines. If you get the drug started, we may be able to mass manufacture without you.”

“Even if we have the technical know-how, where are we getting the capital?” Asked Grue. “You can’t make a factory without equipment. That’ll be a lot of money we still don’t have.”

“I’ve got some other ideas by the way,” said Tattletale, popping some tylenol. “Tay, like I said, your power allows you to instantly teleport objects back-and-forth. There’s gotta be some instances of arbitrage we can exploit. How does the price of grain in Africa compare to the price of grain in Brockton Bay? What about rice? Look for a value discrepancy and exploit it. You can do that for any market, anywhere. Your powers are a merchant’s wet dream. Grue, you could be a technician in a nuclear power plant. Your power blocks radiation, you could make sure the radiation isn’t going anywhere it’s not supposed to. Bitch, you could be a vet. Use your power to heal sick dogs. And Panacea, if you could get a cow to anatomically match the innards of a human: same lungs, heart, liver and so on- think of the number of lives you could save. Especially if we could get the livestock reproducing independently of you. A couple hours of your time might save millions. Work smarter, not harder, and I’m the smartest damn cape you’ll ever meet.”

Panacea scowled. “You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you?”

“Grue’s right,” said Tattletale, rubbing her forehead. “We’re going to need some money to get things started. But we could save millions of lives and make billions. Get capes thinking about how to use their powers differently. We could be the start of a paradigm shift. This could literally- maybe not save the world- but definitely improve it substantially.”

“We’re not robbing another bank,” I said flatly. “Or endorsing drugs or prostitution.”

“So we have to steal the money the old fashioned way,” said Tattletale, wincing. “By asking for it. Easy enough, I should be able to find some investors. Probably better to do things this way anyways. Get ourselves nice and legitimate. We’re gonna make you use your power properly Amy, help you save billions of lives. You’re gonna be remembered as an Undersider, people are gonna forget that you were ever a part of New Wave.”

“This is a trick,” said Panacea stubbornly. “Our powers aren’t meant to be used that way.”

She was right. But I couldn’t argue with any of Tattletale’s logic. I’d always thought that it was my role to clear the city of bullies, and that it was up to somebody else to fix the city. But Tattletale was right, I was a cape, I did have power, why not use it to help people? Not through violence, just… Help them… Help them? I could use my powers to help people?

Wait, why was that a question. I’d been using my powers to help people ever since I’d gotten them. I always tried to do the right thing, tried to be a good person.

I wanted to help people?

No, I did want to help people, it wasn’t a question! So why didn’t it feel right? Using my powers to directly help people? Funny thing was, I was all for helping people without using my powers- opening a charity, using money to buy food, that sort of thing- but something about using the powers I’d been given for something as small and unimportant as helping people…

I wanted to help people!

“I think you’re right.” Tattletale said, laying on a couch with her eyes closed. “Our powers aren’t meant to be used commercially. So what? Who gives a shit? Nobody tells Tats what to do.”

It just felt… Disappointing? Small maybe?

Wait, saving millions of lives felt small?

No, it wasn’t about that. Something, somewhere, deep in my gut rejected the notion of whoring out my powers for money.

“You’re not wrong,” I said. “Everything you’re saying is right. But it’s just not my purpose. It’s not what we were given these powers for, I can feel it.”

“Do you ?” Tattletale smirked, still laying on the couch like she had a headache.

Tattletale was a liar. Trying to trick me, trying to get one over on me. All so that I would use my powers to…

Save millions of lives? No, no, there had to be something else, some other reason…

But no, I hadn’t been… Given my powers… To help people…

What?

Huh… Okay… I hadn’t been given my powers to help people? How could I even think that? I was a hero. Despite everything I’d done, I’d always tried my best to be a good person.

I was a good person.

Good people saved people.

“We should give it a shot,” I said weakly. “Lots of people need organ transplants. The city has a drug problem. It’d be nice to have clean streets right? And I guess we can probably fix those problems… Maybe… So why not give it a shot?”

I looked for any disagreement. Almost hoped for it. Grue and Panacea looked just as troubled as I did. Couldn’t read Bitch. Tattletale just looked like she wanted to die. She must’ve been up to something. 

I felt oddly dissatisfied as I made my way home. Garbage littering the streets, strung out drug addicts in tents, problems I might actually be able to fix now that I thought of them as problems for me specifically to fix. But wouldn’t that distract from getting rid of Kaiser? From ridding the streets of the Empire? Sure they weren’t a presence in the Docks, but now that I’d liberated my people from Lung and Bakuda, the Empire would start to infringe on my territory.

I’d have to drive them out. That was why I’d felt so strange about Tattletale’s suggestions. They were good suggestions, I couldn’t deny that, but it would be better to wait until after we’d gotten rid of our enemies. Rid Brockton Bay of filth. Nothing good I tried to build would last if Kaiser was there to tear it down. Yeah, that must have been it.

Dad hugged me as soon as I got back home.

“I’ve been with Lisa,” I said. Technically, it wasn’t even a lie. I had been with Lisa. Just not the entire time.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” said Dad, holding me tight.

And now I felt like shit. Not that I should, intellectually I knew that I’d done the right thing, getting rid of Bakuda and Oni Lee, even if Dad wouldn’t understand.

“Taylor, we need to talk,” said Dad.

Fuck.

“I’ll start going to school again,” I lied.

“Not about that,” said Dad.

Shit. Shit, he hadn’t figured out that I wa-

“We need to move,” said Dad. “I wanted to keep this house, keep our memories of your mother alive, but… She’s dead. You’re not. I can’t raise you here.”

“You can’t,” I said, licking my lips. Still bad, but definitely not the worst case scenario. “We can’t move. Because um…”

Who was I kidding? If I weren’t Everywhere, I’d be all for it.

“I never should’ve made you go back to Winslow,” said Dad. “Kurt was right, after the locker I should’ve pulled you from school. The truth is I wasn’t thinking about you. I just wanted things to be normal. But, Jesus Tay, they stuffed you in a locker full of… Emma did. Your best friend! I can’t even imagine… And I made you go back there, like nothing happened! A little absenteeism is the least of my worries, I’m just glad you didn’t shoot up the damn place, especially after our meeting with that sorry excuse for a principal. It must’ve been hell to have to go there everyday. I’ll never make you go back there again.”

“...No…” Our refrigerator buzzed noisily. I hated lying to Dad. “No. It wasn’t that b- I’ve been through worse. It made me… Stronger.”

“Your mother used to always tell me that kids are always learning,” said Dad. “So be mindful of what you’re teaching them. I’ve been teaching you to ignore your problems, to act like they don’t exist. Just keep going to work, keep going to school, and never talk about it. I want to be your dad again, Taylor.”

“Brockton Bay is home,” I said, looking just above a portrait of our family.

“Brockton Bay is just a place,” said Dad. “A bad place. And here’s a lesson for you Taylor. One that I didn’t accept until recently. Sometimes people above you abuse their power and there’s nothing you can do. Sometimes you just can’t win. Sometimes… You fight and you fight and you fight, and you realize you’re fifty and you’ve struggled your entire life for nothing. That your struggle has just made things worse for everyone around you.”

“No,” I whispered. “This isn’t you.”

“If I’d just accepted that the ferries would never run again…” Dad trailed off. He reached for my hand, but I yanked it away.

“I was proud of you,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Trying to make things better. Your stubbornness. That you never deviated. I’ve always been proud of you. Just as much as I was of Mom. That you kept on fighting, no matter the odds.”

I was surprised to find that it was true.

“You shouldn’t be,” said Dad, darkness in his voice. “There’s nothing about my life that’s worth admiring.”

“It’ll get better,” I said. “Brockton Bay is going to get better. The ferries will run again. I’ll make the fucking ferries run again.

“ Have you been losing Dockworkers to the Empire?”

Kaiser had done this to my Dad. Reduced him to... Taken his fucking spirit... His…

I’d make him pay. I’d slaughter every last one of them.

“Some,” said Dad, slowly, hesitantly. “But it’s not Kaiser that scares me…”

“You’re afraid of Everywhere,” I said, stifling a smirk. “She’s not as bad as the news makes her out to be, it’s not like she’s out there eating bab-”

“No,” said Dad. “I’m not afraid of her either. No single cape, not even an Endbringer, represents much of a threat to you or me specifically. What we need to be afraid of are systems and codes of conduct. Kaiser represented white supremacy. Lung was just a typical thug, nothing more than your average gangster with superpowers. I was never particularly worried about either of them. But what does Everywhere represent? Order through violence. She got rid of the ABB, she got rid of Purity, and when Bakuda threatened the entire city she got rid of her too. She threatened the villains of the city with torture and death, and we’ve already seen a sharp drop in cape related crime. Tell me you don’t find her appealing, and I’ll call you a liar. I know you admire her, Taylor, don’t pretend otherwise.”

“She’s not appealing,” I said. “I can’t honestly say that I think she’s a good person. But, maybe she’s a necessary evil.”

“A lot of people agree with you,” said Dad. “Kurt. Half the people working in the Docks. Even me, to a degree. How could I not? I’m living in the same city you are- I can see that it’s failing. But I’ve also been in a position of authority for over a decade, and I see where this is going. We need to get out of the city.”

“She’s fixing things,” I said, my lips tugging uncomfortably. A smile?

“She’s just normalized murder,” said Dad. “And terrorism. Great fixes.”

“Bakuda deserved it,” I whispered.

“She did,” said Dad. “And now the cape violence is gonna get a whole lot worse. The rules change when you can just wipe out your enemies. Not in a good way. Everywhere just turned Brockton Bay into Africa. We need to leave.”

I shook. Here? I had to hear this shit here? This was supposed to be home! This was supposed to be fucking home, and he was pulling this… Not even the news… Not even Emma… I didn’t have anywhere to go to, no home, maybe only a memory…

Hadn’t he said he wanted to be my dad again? And he did this? Real great job there Danny.

I took a shuddering breath.

“Everywhere’s not so bad,” I said, still staring above a portrait of our family. “She’s… I’ve heard she’s thinking of… They were reaching out to some of us- me and Lisa- about a project. Using her powers to teleport out the trash that’s built up into a landfill…”

Dad frowned. “Well… That would be different. If she uses her powers nonviolently, commercially even- that would be different.”

“Better?” I asked.

Dad nodded. “If she wants to be an entrepreneur, I wish her all the best. But Taylor, we still need to leave the city. There’s still the bullying, and to be honest I still think Everywhere is a tyrant. She may put on a nice mask when things are going well, but the second her back is against the wall she’ll show everyone who she really is- what she really believes in: violence, intimidation, and death.”

“Everywhere isn’t as bad as you think,” I said. “All the violence was just a fluke. She was only a month into her powers and didn’t know what she was doing! Lung was a mistake, and then the ABB wanted revenge, and things just kinda spiraled okay!”

“They just kinda spiraled?” Dad asked. “Hundreds are dead! How do you even know all this?”

“Lisa knows Everywhere,” I said. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. “Just give it some time. I’ll start going back to school, and if things with the capes start to escalate, we can leave. But things are gonna get better Dad, I can feel it.”

“Okay,” said Dad. “Fine. But the second I hear you’ve missed so much as a class, the moment I hear Everywhere has killed again, we’re packing our bags and leaving. And I don’t want you to have anything to do with Everywhere. Deal?”

“Fiiiine,” I said. Thanks to my dumb dad, dealing with the Empire was gonna be almost impossible. But what could I do? Move? Run away from home? Didn’t have much of a choice now did I? It would be a hassle, but there was no other option. I’d just have to have Tattletale figure out Kaiser’s identity. Then, after I killed him, I’d frame it as a suicide. It still meant I had to handle Kaiser more delicately than I would have liked, if I mangled his body too much everybody would know that I’d done it.

I leaned back in my chair and couldn’t help but sigh. “This is gonna suck, you know that right?”

“This is for your own good,” said Dad. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

Really Dad? Please stop, I could only tolerate so much bullshit.

Chapter Text

Author’s Note: Big thanks to Two Pence for beta reading and keeping me from making some narrative mistakes.

ooOoo

A short while after my dad had mistaken being a power-abusing bullshit bully with being a parent, I was forced to waste my time begging for a favor from a bunch of rich people who’d never used a penny of their money to actually help anybody, instead of doing something that might actually make the world a bit better. I hoped he was happy.

“This has got to be a joke,” said the rude bank representative over the phone. “Do you really think you can get a loan after what you did?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Tattletale. “I get it. We robbed Brockton Bay Central. But it’s not like it was even your bank, so why the fuck do you even care? If anything, I helped you by wiping out a competitor.”

“You robbed a bank,” said the banker, as if we hadn't heard him the first time. “And now you want a loan?”

“We can pay you back double,” said Tattletale. “Triple. This is the easiest slam dunk you’ll ever get. You know we’ve got Panacea on our side right? Do you need to talk to her?”

“No I don’t need to fucking talk to her,” said the parsimonious banker. “Because frankly it doesn’t matter. You robbed a bank. Actions have consequences-”

“It was to lure out Oni Lee,” I said. “A purely military operation. We can return the money if you want.”

The banker’s scared little gasp told me all I needed to know. He was so horrified at the prospect of working with us that even the notion of us resolving his little hangup terrified him.

“Maybe it was a mistake,” said Tattletale. “Maybe not. Oni Lee was after our heads, so we didn’t have much of a choice. Either way, think about what we’re trying to do. Use Panacea to create a breed of cattle with human hearts, lung, livers- all the organs which are in short supply. We’ve already got experienced personnel from Japan who have worked on farms which produced wagyu beef. We’ve got the technical know-how to pull this off. We could make billions and give parahumans a new blueprint- mix capes and capitalism- tell me that doesn’t warm your little banker heart. Do you want to help us save the world, or do you want to hang onto old grudges?”

“You robbed a bank,” said the banker. “All the fancy words in the dictionary won’t change that. You will never get a loan.”

He hung up. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t wrong. We’d already been denied by a dozen banks, and we spent the rest of the afternoon being denied by a dozen more. Luckily the schools were still closed due to Bakuda wiping Arcadia off the map. A whole lot of staff and students were being shifted around, borders were being redrawn, and security was being rethought. It had bought me the time I needed to get our humanitarian projects off the ground, but eventually the schools would have to start again. We didn’t have forever to do this.

It was funny. Creating a breed of livestock with human organs would be relatively simple according to Panacea, and we already had access to the personnel we needed to get the project going. All we needed were a few people who believed in us. But we couldn’t do it because the people in charge didn’t like me- wouldn’t even give me a chance. TIME had called me the next Jack Slash because I’d let a few dozen people die in a military operation, but the bankers could let a few million die out of pettiness and it was just business. Probably because the bankers had the journalists on their payroll. In the end, just like everything else, right and wrong- even merit- none of it mattered. All that mattered was power, whether it came in the form of money or popularity.

Actually… I had power now didn’t I?

Couldn’t I just force them to give me a loan? Rob, intimidate- whatever I needed to do to get the operation off the ground. It might even be the right thing to do. Who was I kidding, it would definitely be the right thing to do. Dad wouldn’t like it, but I’m sure the woman who’d die in a week without a heart transplant would appreciate that I'd been willing to dirty my hands to do what was obviously right. 

But how many people could I save if I were forced to move to some hick town in the middle of nowhere? My hands were tied thanks to Dad’s stupid ultimatum. It had probably already cost around a dozen people their lives, but I suppose that’s what happened when the people in charge were forced to make decisions based on the laymen’s dim sensibilities. The fact that TIME had gotten record numbers after their atrocity of an article about me was all the proof I needed that the average person should never be allowed to influence public policy.

We changed our approach the next day. We brainstormed a list of the wealthiest people in Brockton Bay instead of trying to appeal to corrupt banks.

“Whoever owns Medhall,” I said. It felt right as soon as I’d said it.

Tattletale winced. “We should probably try our other options first. Trust me.”

“It’s the largest corporation in Brockton Bay,” I said. “And it specializes in medicine.”

“I’m not saying no,” said Tattletale. “But they have some skeletons in their closet. And no I’m not telling you what.”

Funny. I felt like we’d been hearing those same words about ourselves for days. Business was business, if this venture succeeded millions would be saved, what did it matter if Medhall weren’t a bunch of choir boys?

We reached out to some of the wealthiest people in Brockton Bay, but were turned down for a variety of reasons. A few agreed that our idea probably had some merit, but were afraid of the public perception. Many had standing policies against working with capes: villains, heroes, independents, it didn't matter. They thought we were dangerous, especially because if we decided we didn’t want to pay back our loan there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about it. Excuses. They just wanted to keep us down.

I was beginning to understand why so few capes went commercial with their powers. The entire system was rigged against us. Maybe Tattletale had been right all along, we were the local sports team. The media could slander me all they liked, but they needed someone to play the villain. We weren’t supposed to step out of our role, and the next Jack Slash certainly wasn’t supposed to help more people than the so-called heroes. It was all a game to them.

“It’s an interesting idea and I’m glad you called,” said Roy Christner, the mayor who’d helped run our fine city into the ground. “It’s impossible. Not from a technical standpoint, but politically and legally. I’m sure you’re aware of the dozens of laws that are in place to prevent tinkers from creating anything that self replicates?”

Tattletale nodded. “But those are to prevent plagues. Cattle can’t reproduce quickly enough for the law to be relevant.”

“The law is anything that self replicates, it doesn’t matter how quickly,” said the mayor. “That’s not a careless oversight, the wording is intentional. I’ve got some sources in the Protectorate. I know they won’t budge on this. You go through with this project and everyone involved is getting kill orders. You’ll probably be safe, but they’ll airstrike your ranch, and execute whoever is ignorant enough to partner with you.”

Tattletale smirked. “You sure seem to know a lot about the Protectorate. How?”

“You’re trying to do a good thing,” said the mayor. “I saw the footage of the Slaughter at Immaculata, Bakuda’s wave of… bombs. Vista. Clockblocker. Assault… Triumph. They’d be dead if you hadn’t stepped in. I know that deep down you want to help people. I can never say this publicly, but thank you. I wish this project could succeed, I really do. If it were just a matter of lawyers, of money, I’d get them for you. It’s not.”

“This isn’t about a plague is it? It’s because it threatens the Protectorate’s purpose isn’t it,” said Tattletale, her smirk growing sharp. “It’s true purpose.”

The mayor sighed. “It’s true purpose? You’re smart, but you’re still a kid. You see the tip of the iceberg and think yourself so clever that you miss that you’re still not seeing 90% of the picture. How many capes do you see commercializing their powers in anything close to the scale you’re talking about? There are plenty who could, most tinkers for example. But none of them ever do. The Protectorate is powerful, but they’re not that powerful. Actually… Maybe there is an example of somebody who tried to use their power constructively…”

“Alexandria?” I asked. Hadn’t she formed the Protectorate to take on the Endbringers?

The vulpine smile slid off Tattletale’s face. “No… Not Alexandria… Sphere. Now known as Mannequin. He tried to build a colony on the moon… Then… Then… She got him. But he was trying to escape the earth, that’s what brought her. We’re not… It wouldn’t…”

“Whether it would or wouldn’t is irrelevant,” said the mayor. “The Protectorate thinks it will. What do you think would happen if Panacea fell under her control? You go through with this and you’ll be dealing with the Triumvirate if you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky, you’ll be wishing you were dealing with the Triumvirate. That’s why I’m telling you to stop.”

“He believed every word he said,” said Tattletale as soon as she hung up. “And… My power agreed with him, with the Protectorate… We can’t go through with it.”

“We can,” I said. “We have to.”

“You’re talking about summoning an Endbringer,” said Grue.

“That’s just conjecture, but yeah it’ll be dangerous. So what? Taking on a bully is always dangerous,” I said. “You will get hurt. Your friends will get hurt. A lot of innocent people will get hurt. But the question isn’t about right and wrong. We both know what’s right. The question is whether you can still do what’s right even when it’s hard? When it might just kill you. I know my answer. Do you know yours?”

“This isn’t just a bully,” said Grue. “This isn’t even Behemoth or Leviathan… Taylor, we’re talking about the Simurgh.”

“Just another bully,” I said. “That’s why the Protectorate will never win. They gave in to her. You give a bully an inch they’ll take a mile. If the mayor is right, they’re already collaborating with her, even if they haven’t realized it yet.”

“There are… worse things than being a victim,” said Grue. “They say she turns people into monsters.”

“I’d rather be a monster than a victim,” I said coldly. Never again. I wouldn’t let it happen ever again. “This isn’t a discussion. You agreed to help me take out the villains in Brockton Bay. You back out, and we’re back to being enemies. You know how I deal with them. Tattletale, call Medhall.”

“Tay… They say she can see the future… Perfectly…” said Tattletale. “You can’t fight someone like that.”

“Watch me.” I stared at Tattletale levelly. “Call Medhall.”

“Do it,” said Panacea. “If I trust anyone to beat an Endbringer, it’s Everywhere.”

“This is a really, really bad idea,” said Tattletale, as she dialed up their CEO. “Can you hear her screaming too, or is it just me?”

I took the phone from her. “It’s just you.”

“This is Max Anders, how did you get this number?”

“This is Everywhere,” I said. “I’d like to discuss a potential business partnership.”

The line was silent for a moment. “A partnership with the Undersiders? Why should I risk the reputation of my company for a gang of barbaric murderers? Convince me.”

I explained the plan.

“Interesting,” said Anders. “It has potential, but let me be blunt. Your offer is terrible and I don’t know a single businessman who would agree to it. I would have to step outside the law, create false trails of where Medhall is getting the organs, and potentially even shell laboratories. You could destroy me and my entire company with a simple call to the Protectorate. You can always hide behind your masks, but I have no such luxury. You say partnership; I hear domination. That is something I cannot abide by. That said, I have a singularly unique tolerance for risk. Convince me.”

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Collateral,” said Anders. “Reveal your identity to me. If you ruin my life I ought to be able to return the favor.”

I didn’t like it, but his logic was sound, and I had a feeling this was the best offer we were going to get. “Dea-”

“I know all your dirty little secrets Max,” said Tattletale. “So let’s play nice and fair.”

“I see,” said Anders. “Threats. Intimidation. This has clearly been a farce.”

“What if I gave you my identity?” Asked Tattletale.

“I already know your identity, Miss Livsey,” said Anders. “How you talked your brother into killing himself. I will hang up the next time I hear your voice. For my own safety, you understand?”

“You’re full of shit, Max.” Tattletale smirked, but her shoulders were trembling. “You realize I’m trying to help you right? Do you need control that badly?”

“I’ve clearly struck a nerve,” said Anders lightly. “I need assurances that you won’t destroy me after you’ve used me. How is that unreasonable?”

He hadn’t hung up.

Tattletale opened her mouth to reply, but I interrupted her.

“No,” I said. “Tattletale’s right, we’re doing you a favor. You’re an investor- nothing more. I’m open to business negotiations but that’s all. I’m not giving you dirt on any of us. You need this more than we do.”

Anders sighed. “You’re a real bitch, you know that? Fine. Let’s talk business. First the good. Panacea is a singularly unique asset, and your central idea is solid. Now the bad. You’re teenagers. Do I trust you to handle an operation of this size? Not at all. You have no experience with logistics, management of personnel, accounting, financial strategy, medical regulations, securing patents and supply chains- all the boring and essential parts of running a business. I’ve got experience running a billion dollar company, let Medhall handle operations. Your responsibility will be coming to the farm and providing four to five prototypes every quarter. In return, 50.1% of the profits from each organ sold will be given to a bank account of your choice.”

Tattletale balked, and I allowed her to take control of the business negotiations. In the end she was able to negotiate the deal up to a 55-45 split. I didn’t really get the point, but she’d always struck me as the type who had to prove she was the smartest person in the room.

- - - 

A few days later I left Brockton Bay for the first time since I’d gone to summer camp in middle school.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “The exit isn’t for another thirty miles!”

Tattletale was finally betraying me! I could almost respect the poetic nature of it. The last time I’d left Brockton Bay, my best friend had tur-

“R-E-L-A-X,” said Tattletale. “Relax, will ya? We’re just taking a little detour for some team building. You told your dad your best friend was taking you to Mount Kineo for the weekend. Can’t make you a liar can we?”

The mountain was obscured by conifers, we sped past Bald Cypresses, Atlantic Cedars, and Grand Firs. Not a lot of deciduous trees in New England, at least not near Mount Kineo. The road eventually opened up to a picturesque blue lake with sparkling rippling water. Tattletale parked at a base camp and walked up to a stall and inspected a topographical map of the park’s trails.

“This way,” said Tattletale. It was about a four mile hike to a cliffside view of the beautiful lake. About a four-hundred foot vertical drop to the water below. Fatal? Probably. I set a stamp about three feet from the drop.

Tattletale must’ve known that this area would be a strategic asset. We were meeting the Medhall staff on their turf. If Anders had betrayed us to the Protectorate then I could teleport us to the safety of the cliffside in a pinch. If Anders had betrayed us to Faultline or the Empire then I could teleport my enemies off the cliff and let gravity do its thing. Offense and defense all wrapped up in one stamp. The only drawback was that it was useless against fliers and changers.

It was still a good idea. It would have the added benefit of making my kills look like suicide. As long as Tattletale knew their civilian identities I could spam this method of execution and frame it as suicide indefinitely. That would help me avoid triggering one of Dad’s hippy-dippy hissy fits.

After Dad got over his bullshit power trip preventing me from doing what was necessary to put my home in order, I could start putting stamps on top of Brockton Bay skyscrapers. How many villains would stay in the business when they saw the other bullies taking five hundred foot swan dives into concrete?

I nodded at Tattletale. “Good job.”

Tattletale frowned. “Right… That was the idea, but…”

“It’s a beautiful view,” said Panacea. “But we really do need to get to the farm quickly. This might take some time. It won’t be as simple as what I normally do. Changing the organs will be easy, but I’m also going to have to change the blood-type so the organs don’t get rejected. I’m also going to have to change the genetic code in the eggs of the cows, and probably even more fundamental genetics in the testes and sperm. Maybe that would be a better way of doing this? Wouldn’t it be better if we modified eggs and sperm, and sold those? Then I could make sure that the cows were sterile and couldn’t reproduce without me. It would give us leverage in the future. That’s how US firms sell genetically modified crops to Africa. If we don’t have control of the seeds what’s to stop Medhall from turning on us?”

I nodded along.

“Nah,” said Tattletale. “Medhall won’t betray us. Not when it would mean war with who they’ve identified as the next Slaughterhouse. Besides, you’d burn out making all those changes. Today’s goal is just gonna be to give one cow transplantable organs. Proof of concept.”

“Tattletale’s right,” I said. “We need to focus on building up our credibility as soon as possible, prove to people we’re different than Lung and Kaiser.”

“And we need the money now,” said Grue. “Great as it would be to control supply, if we want to continue to control the ABB we need some funds right now. Otherwise the gang we're supposedly running will dissolve into a hundred small criminal operations, and crime in the docks will be worse than it ever was under Lung.”

It took us about an hour to get to Medhall’s farm. It wasn’t as large as I’d expected, and I hadn’t seen any cows in the flat grasslands we’d driven by. We parked next to a small old-timey house with peeling red paint. There was a barn, a small garden of half-grown corn stalks, and about a dozen parked cars in the lawn in front of the house.

Max Anders greeted us by the front porch.

“So you’re Everywhere,” said Anders. “I thought you’d be taller.”

“And I thought you’d be smarter,” I said. He should have had more men. In his position, I’d have brought at least a hundred.

He’d only brought about a dozen men with him, all armed with automatic rifles. I was more concerned with the two men without weapons. Capes. At least he’d had half a brain then.

“Can you blame me for being careful?” Asked Anders.

I glanced at Tattletale. “How many?”

Tattletale held up one finger and pointed at a tree in the distance. So that’s where he was hiding the sniper. Grue put up a wall of darkness directly in his sightline. One failsafe. Regent was the other. When the sniper pulled the trigger, he’d spasm and twitch and somehow never find his mark.

I’d teleport the rifles of his associates away first, then kill them with the cliffside portal if they were stupid enough to rush me. Then I’d deal with the capes while Tattletale took care of Anders. And in the end we’d have Panacea use her powers to make his death look like a heart attack. It would be an easy fight, but that was assuming that Anders didn’t have anyone in reserve.

If Anders really wanted to go against us he’d have brought in the Protectorate. Maybe they were all hiding in the barn. If I had an active stamp on me, I’d be able to sense any traps. Unfortunately I had one active stamp within the Protectorate and another near the cliffside. I didn’t want to burn either unless I had to.

I wasn’t totally helpless. I had a handgun in the pouch of my loose gray sweater.

“We didn’t come here to talk,” I said. “If I don’t see a cow in front of me in the next five minutes we’re leaving.”

The longer we had to stay on high alert the more it favored our opponents.

Anders nodded at one of his henchmen. Not a cape, just a common footsoldier with a rifle. “Paranoid much? I suppose that’s wise considering you’ve turned every major faction in Brockton Bay against you. Get the lady her cow.”

“No, not him,” I said. I pointed at an ugly unarmed man with greasy shoulder-length blonde hair. “You. Bring us the cow.”

“You’d be wise to treat your allies with more respect,” said Anders.

“Four minutes,” I said, yawning, tapping my wrist.

“I ain’t no slave,” said the blonde man, folding his arms. “I ain’t scared of you, bitch. You want a fight, you got one.”

“Brad,” said Anders. “Not over this. Bring the lady her cow.”

He did. Panacea got to work, mumbling to herself, and Anders slid next to me smoothly.

“I’d like to talk to you privately,” he said. “Man to man.”

“Tattletale’s in charge of business operations,” I said.

“I’m aware. You’re the one I need to talk to,” he said.

“Grue,” I said. “Can you cover us?”

Grue nodded, and just like that the only Anders and I were alone in a bubble of silence and darkness.

“Rotate sixty degrees clockwise,” I said.

Anders nodded, and we scrambled our positions for his sniper.

“What has Tattletale told you about me?” Anders asked.

“That you’ve got some skeletons in your closet,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter. Medhall is the largest pharmaceutical company in the state. Whatever your past, we can save millions of lives working together.”

“If you want to work with me so badly,” said Anders. “Why are you trying so hard to discredit me in front of my men?”

“You were the one who started the power play bullshit,” I said. “If you don’t want to be treated like a bully, don’t act like one.”

“You think I have a choice?” Anders asked. “You of all people should know differently. Or did you melt Bakuda on national television for personal enjoyment? Others can be genuine, but people like us need to put on masks. Always confident, always strong, always totally assured of our own righteousness. My men will turn on me the second they see weakness. I’m a realist, I know that I don’t have the firepower to fight you. I know that our survival rests on our ability to make this partnership work. I’m on your side, but not all the people in my organization are. They’re… Blinded. By pride, by ideology, by delusions of grandeur. People think I control Medhall; Medhall controls me. It always has. Tattletale’s right, there are skeletons in my closet, but just know that without me that pile would be ten times bigger. Keep humiliating me, keep humiliating my organization, and there will be war. You’ll win, but it’ll cost you. Better for both of us, better for Brockton Bay, that we find a way to work together.”

“You don’t have to act like a bully to get people to respect you,” I said. “Why not try to just be a good person? You do that, and we’ll have no problems.”

Anders sighed. “I’m on your side. I’m trying to prevent war. Want proof? We’re both here, we’re both trying to make this work, and I’ve set up this deal so we both need each other for the foreseeable future. It would’ve been easier to offer you a lump sum, but I’ve set the deal so we both benefit by working together. I’ve taken tangible steps towards peace. All I’m asking is that you treat me like an equal rather than a lackey, so I can keep my head, and you don’t have to deal with the barbarian that would replace me.”

“You’re the one starting it,” I said, shrugging.

Anders shook his head, chuckling. ‘That stubbornness will do you well. Compromise is almost always a mistake. The gratitude it earns is rarely worth the loss of respect it costs. Give an inch and they’ll take a mile. If I were in a position of strength as you are, I wouldn’t show any mercy either.”

“Maybe I could be a little more… Diplomatic,” I admitted.

“Thank you,” said Anders, dipping his head. By the time Grue uncovered us, Panacea had already finished modifying a dozen cows and two bulls.

“I’ve made it so their offspring have the potential for every blood type. The descendants will also retain the innards of their parents, so there’s really no need to call me again. Don’t worry about inbreeding, I’ve solved that problem,” said Panacea, yawning. “But if you turn on us, I’ll release a plague meant to target this new breed specifically. It’ll wipe them out in minutes, as well as any patients unfortunate enough to have one of their organ implants. Are we done here?”

“Just that?” Anders took a deep breath. “I can’t help but notice a certain lack of enthusiasm. It’s called compassion fatigue, and it’s common in the field. Tell you what, when I find our first patient I’m going to explain who saved them and have them give you a call. I’m going to repeat this every month. I want you to remember how much good we’re doing here.”

I couldn’t see anything wrong with it, so we agreed. A week later we got a call.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” said a little boy. 

“Thank you,” said the boy’s mother, her throat hoarse. “I heard from Mr Anders what you did for us. My dumbass husband’s a drinker. He brought it on himself, but… Thank you.”

My eyes felt a little heavy. Tattletale choked out a sob, Bitch seemed content, and Grue left the room sniveling. Maybe my team wasn’t so bad.

“Cool,” said Panacea. She hung up. “I hope we don’t have to put up with that shit every month. I do like the seventy grand he sent us though. Maybe he could have led with that instead of the blatant emotional manipulation.” She spit out her microwaved cheese steak. “Fuck. I burnt my tongue.”

“You did it,” I said, handing Tattletale a tissue. “You saved a father. A child still has a parent because of you.”

“So you finally trust me? You haven’t brought up what Max said about me. Why not?”

“Tattletale,” I said. “Let’s enjoy this.”

I’d proven all the naysayers wrong. Who said capes couldn’t be productive? Who said we had to use our powers to destroy? If only the public knew the truth. It wasn’t us villains holding capes down, it was their precious Protectorate in their fear of the Simurgh. Where was she? Where oh where was she? Nowhere, that’s where. Maybe she could see the future, but that didn’t mean she could see every future. She could be beaten.

The Protectorate had no fucking balls. If you wanted to save the world you had to be willing to ruffle some feathers. They’d never be able to beat the Endbringers, I could tell they’d already given up. If I were in charge I’d have capes working together, brainstorming ways their powers might interact, coming up with potential paths to victory. Then maybe…

Maybe if I were in charge, things could be fixed…

When I got home I told Dad about what I’d done. How I’d saved one family, how I was starting a movement that might change how capes operated on a fundamental level. “At least that’s what I heard from Lisa.”

Dad shrugged. “Sounds like propaganda if you ask me. I know you want to believe she’s more than a tyrant, but you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. It’s easy for unfounded rumors to spread on the streets, but if this were actually true it’d be plastering the front of every headline.”

“Why would she even lie about it?” I asked. He was being ridiculous! “And everyone knows that the news is in the pocket of the Protectorate! You just don’t want to admit that you were wrong about her!”

“Why would Medhall keep it a secret?” Asked Dad, he held up a hand. “I understand keeping it under wraps until the technology was proven with a test case, but they should be leaking the information to the media right now. I don’t care what the law states, neither the Protectorate nor the government would shut down a project which could potentially save millions of lives. Cases like this are the whole point of having a democracy with free speech. The politicians ultimately have to follow the will of the people.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Well maybe there will be a news leak. Then will you admit you were wrong about Everywhere?”

“Sure, but I’d sooner believe that pigs fly than that Everywhere has changed her stripes.” Dad snorted. “It’ll never happen kiddo. Everywhere just isn’t who you think she is.”

If only he knew.

“We should leak the news to the media,” I said to Lisa over the phone. “And can you think of any possible uses for giving a pig wings?”

“That would be very, very stupid,” said Lisa. Yeah, it probably would be, but it would be nice to have around if I ever made a media announcement. You heard right, Everywhere is saving lives, she’s actually a good person, and she can even make pig’s fly. Eat that, assholes. “Don’t you remember what the mayor told us about summoning the Simurgh?”

Oh right, her.

“He was lying,” I said. “He’s a politician; it’s what he does. My dad knows a woman in the media. I could get this thing rolling, prove that we’re not the baby-eating monsters all those corrupt journalists are making us out to be.”

“He wasn’t lying,” said Lisa. “Triumph is his son. You saved his son. He wanted to help you.”

I frowned. That couldn’t be true.

“He didn’t want to help me,” I said. “He was just playing mind games. Fucking with us. He’d never have made it as a politician if he didn’t do things like that.”

“He wanted to help you,” said Lisa.

“If he’s so benevolent then why is Brockton Bay such a mess?” I asked. “Why hasn’t he fixed it?”

“Maybe he’s made mistakes,” said Lisa. “Or maybe he’s just not capable of fixing things.”

That… Was possible. I didn’t like Principal Blackwell, but the more I learned about our so-called leaders the less impressed I became. I doubted any other principal would have been different. Their job, really, was to offend the least amount of people possible and to keep the richest and most powerful happy. Whatever my dad seemed to think, morality really had little to do with anything. So in a decision between the wealthy, popular Emma Barnes and the poor, friendless Taylor Hebert, I could only conclude that Blackwell had made the right political decision. Because the most powerful positions were never about the job description, it was about gaining and keeping power. Unfortunately popularity and effective leadership weren’t always the same thing. They might not even usually be the same thing.

So yeah, the mayor probably couldn’t get things done because his job was to win elections, not fix the city, only naive fools like my dad actually believed that. Because fixing the city wouldn’t be pretty. It wouldn’t make you popular. It wouldn’t a good political move.

Afterall, I’d started the job, and my own fucking father hated me for it.

“For what it’s worth, I believe him,” said Lisa. “The first thing the Simurgh went after was our nukes, and she did go after Sphere. She’s suppressing our technology Taylor, everything fits. We know in Earth Aleph that almost everyone has a computer, that most teenagers have a smartphone, and that they’re all connected to the internet. Hell, even if you look at their video games, they’re almost photorealistic, better than the 32-bit junk we’ve got. We’re a couple decades behind them.”

The fuck was a smart phone? Well it probably didn’t matter.

“If he was actually telling the truth,” I said. “The Simurgh should’ve come by now. So why hasn’t she?”

“That’s the million dollar question isn’t it,” said Lisa.

“It’s possible her powers have a weakness,” I said. “Maybe she can only see parts of the future? Certain paths? Do we actually know that she sees every possible threat?”

“Or maybe she doesn’t care that we’re saving lives,” said Lisa. “Why did she go after the nukes? Why did she go after Sphere? Is it possible she’s just waiting until word gets out about what we’ve done before she strikes? Underneath it all, the real question is what exactly does ole Simmy want?”

“What are her limits?” I asked. “How can we beat her?”

“We can’t risk a fight with her until we’ve answered all those questions,” said Lisa. “We know she hasn’t come yet. Maybe that’s because she hasn’t seen what we’re doing or maybe it’s because she doesn’t care. There’s a good chance that if word gets out about what we’re doing she comes for us. We’re not ready for that battle, you know that. I know you want to be recognized for the work you’re doing, but you just can’t. Do you want to be seen as a hero, or do you actually want to be one?”

I was starting to get sick of that line. 

“Fine.” I sighed. “Lisa, let’s go catch an earth aleph movie at the Boardwalk. I need to see if they’re really twenty years ahead of us.”

They were actually. At least according to the movie, every teenager had a smartphone. They were like better versions of the advanced communications device Armsmaster had threatened us with back at Immaculata. And get this, every smartphone had a built in microphone and video recorder. If I’d just been born in a world with smartphones I would have had a much easier life. I could’ve just recorded Emma and Sophia and that would have been the end of that. Bullying was probably a foreign concept in earth aleph due to smartphones, it was likely why they only had a handful of capes.

Or maybe I was just being misled. Afterall, if you took the movies earth bet produced seriously you’d be running into mustache twirling supervillains committing dastardly deeds every time you went out for a morning jog, so maybe I should be taking the movie with a grain of salt.

I threw a half-full bag of popcorn into the trash.

“Are you sure about this?” Asked Lisa.

“I’m sure,” I said. “Maybe I can’t claim credit for anything we’re doing. But anyone with eyes will realize who the real good guys are after this.”

I’d attached a stamp to the bag of popcorn. It would take about a week to make its way to the dump, but once it did I could solve the Docks’ literal garbage problem just as easily as I’d solved its metaphorical one.

Then Dad would have to admit that he’d misjudged me. While I loved him and couldn’t help but care what he thought of me, I knew that it would be a mistake to let his opinions sway me. He wasn’t a cape, nor had he grown up in a system which had had to accommodate them. He could read all the books he liked, but he’d never understand how capes actually thought.

The next day we put the ABB to work with the money we’d made from the initial batch of organ transplants. The children collected garbage strewn about the city, and some men and women started converting an unused playground into a landfill. We’d even gotten Coil in on it, and rented out an excavator on his dime.

Little did he know that underneath the landfill we’d be building a tiny little bunker. A little six by six foot coffin, with a small pipe to the outside world. Tattletale had found a way for Bitch and Panacea to work together to build the compartment during the night. There would be no doors, no entrance, no exit. Impossible to enter or leave.

Well, unless you were somehow teleported into it.

Coil had access to not one but two precognition powers. The first was his own and allowed him to split a timeline and choose the one he preferred. In isolation, it would have been easy to circumvent. Just achieve a certain victory before he thought to split the timeline. In practical purposes that meant getting a stamp on him somewhere that would stick onto him regardless of how many timelines he created.

His underwear, or if we could manage it, a bit of food in his fridge that could settle in his stomach. Tattletale had come up with a plan based on my descriptions of the layout and enemy movements. I knew where he slept, where he went to the bedroom, and when. We’d have to wait a little while longer though. His guard was down, but hadn’t been a month ago. If we attacked too early he’d have gotten a fucking retroactive warning a month in the past, dooming our attack of today.

Yeah, that was as unfair as it sounded but that was fighting a precog for you. Not only did you have to beat him, but you had to be sure that you beat him yesterday and tomorrow at the same time, and apparently every day a month in the past and a month in the future.

Thinkers were such bullshit.

I’d have preferred to teleport him to the bottom of the Atlantic. Unfortunately, he had a precog with him, and routinely asked about his chances of surviving one scenario versus another. Any assassination attempt I came up with, he’d have already countered a month ago. The key, as Tattletale had told me, was to defeat him in a way he wouldn’t think to safeguard against. He couldn’t protect himself against a future he didn’t ask about. So rather than killing him, we’d imprison him.

I hoped Coil enjoyed his new home. Underneath the local dump he’d helped create, underneath all the trash in the Docks. Then we’d have Regent or Panacea, but probably the comparatively more ethical Regent, master him- keep Coil alive for his powers. The one who’d tried to manipulate us like puppets reduced to yet another tool in my toolbox, it was poetic and fitting.

All that said, I’d still have killed him if it were remotely feasible. Leaving him alive ran the risk of him escaping. And villains escaped all the fucking time.

Whatever, I couldn’t do anything about it so why waste time thinking about it?

I kicked an empty soda can into the little dump we’d dug. Not that it was much of one. A true landfill spanned several acres. The Undersider’s dump was only about the size of a neighborhood swimming pool, albeit one with a small hidden compartment.

After about three days of hard work our little landfill was filled with about three feet of garbage. I helped some children throw one last bag into the dump, placing a stamp on the garbage bag, and coupling it with the stamp in the actual dump, completing a second set of stamps. I felt my powers short circuit and disappear. Then come back on. Then off again. I didn’t like it at all. I could operate two pairs of stamps simultaneously if I didn’t care about my powers randomly not working. It was fine when I was whoring out my powers commercially, but it made me useless in a fight. Worst thing was that in order to deactivate a stamp, not just replace it with a new one, I had to be within 500 feet of it. So no, I couldn’t just undo what I’d done. If Kaiser moved against me I’d be helpless.

But operating with a second pair allowed me to keep my stamp in the Protectorate and it lowered Coil’s guard. And after Panacea, he was the second most dangerous villain in the city.

The children sarcastically cheered and showed me their palms in a mocking gesture. The implications of what they were doing eluded me, but perhaps it was some foreign asian custom. Maybe I was being overly self-conscious. Or maybe not. Tattletale was making a shooing motion with her hand, and I followed her signal to start banishing the Dock’s garbage to the same dump used in the Boardwalk.

I could teleport at the speed of thought, but my threshold had been lowered to a maximum weight limit of 150 pounds, and my powers stopped working every couple of seconds. It took me almost ten minutes to clear out the majority of the landfill, with most of the time just waiting for my power to come back. Hopefully they’d misinterpret it as me needing a cooldown time between teleports. Some of them would inevitably turn on me when other capes came asking about weaknesses. I understood it was nothing personal, money was money, and by acting so publicly I was begging for betrayal. Unfortunately for the rats, they’d be passing along bad intel and probably get killed for their trouble.

There was no cheering. I’d have appreciated it, but I understood the message of the locals well enough. I wasn’t Lung. I wasn’t one of them. I would never be one of them, and I would never get the love that he had once had. Was it so much to ask for a little bit of appreciation?

That said, there hadn’t been defiance either. There was no opposition to what I was doing, and even low levels of support.

They were probably right. This was nothing worth celebrating over. We’d executed a plan for cleaning up the streets, but so would anyone. I needed to be better. Make better plans.

“Let’s get back to work,” I said. “We can do better. Be more efficient. What we did today is nothing worth celebrating. The Docks are still overrun with trash, and a week of effort makes little difference. No single person can clean the Docks of the filth that’s been accumulating for years. But if we all do our part, little by little things will improve. Find the garbage near you, collect it in one small pile, and I’ll see that it’s taken care of. For now, I need you to do two things: spread the word and do your part.”

We’d have to rent out some trucks and hire a few permanent garbagemen. 

I didn’t get an applause. I got something better. Obedience. Within a few days, our little local dump had been filled five times and the streets were noticeably cleaner. We even got a few call-ins about rapists and traffickers and the like. After Tattletale had verified their testimonies I set about purifying my ranks. It wasn’t easy with my power on the fritz. But hey, getting ripped apart by some killer dogs probably sent a stronger message than I could have anyways.

That night my dad invited Kurt and Lacy over for dinner. Dad still thought we were going to move, and wanted to make the most of the time he had left in Brockton Bay.

“Say what you want about her,” said Kurt, taking a few sips from his Blue Moon. “But the streets have never been cleaner, and the Empire is no longer recruiting. I don’t get why you’re set on moving now, when Brockton Bay is finally moving in the right direction. I say you leak the story about Taylor, and use the leverage to force Winslow to transfer her.”

I sipped on some water. It was nice to know that not all Dad’s friends were like Alan. Some of them had their heads on straight.

Dad winced. “Please don’t encourage my daughter. The streets are cleaner. What next? Are you going to tell me the trains run on time too? There are some benefits to fascism, but they aren’t worth the drawbacks. There are already rumors that she’s holding mass executions of any opposition within her ranks. She probably just made that dump so there’d be a place to hide the skeletons.”

I snorted. “That’s stupid. Hiding bodies in a dump. It would be so easy to find them. If it were me I’d just give any bodies that needed to disappear to Panacea.”

They stared at me for a moment. Right. Don’t go into any of the specifics of cleaning up the city. Sometimes I forgot just how sheltered Dad and his friends were, and made the mistake of taking their civilian opinions seriously.

“...I knew some of the people that Everywhere went after, Danny,” said Lacy quietly. “If anyone deserved to die twice it was them. The initiations…”

Dad slammed his fist into the table, his face red. “This is how it starts! Don’t you get it? What the hell was the point of learning history if you’re just going to ignore it? Everywhere wasn’t elected! Don’t you guys care that she’s the textbook definition of a strong-man politician?”

“I get it, Danny,” said Kurt. “I do. But we’re not talking about the world we grew up in, we’re talking about the world now. If the government and the courts still worked, there would be no Everywhere. Things are finally improving in the Docks, we’ve got a cape who actually cares. Maybe instead of poking at her flaws, you might want to support the best thing that’s happened to Brockton Bay in a decade.”

I covered my smile with my hand.

“How much longer before she starts seizing industries?” Asked Dad. “How much longer until she’s taking over our largest corporations? What if she takes over Medhall, using Panacea as justification? She’s not just taking over the city militarily, but economically as well. She’s obtaining a level of control over us most capes can’t even comprehend, much less actually execute. If you don’t think she’s terrifying, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Kurt shrugged. “I don’t work for Medhall, and they’ve never done shit to help us. Why exactly should I care?”

“What if she sticks her nose in the ferries?”

“The ferries start running again?” Asked Kurt. “You’re acting like the system wasn’t broken already. What are you so worried about? It can’t get any worse than it already is.”

“Maybe it’s not perfect, but it’s worth protecting,” said Dad, like a stubborn child. “You're too impressed with the fact that she's actually doing something helpful, but she’s just copying a basic service.  That is more than most capes do, but it’s still nothing compared to a corporation like Medhall. She has no ability to create on her own, all she can do is steal ideas from others. This is a system that will never work.”

Oh really Dad? Nothing new? Watch me.

The next day Medhall provided us with a laboratory, and Panacea got to work mass producing drugs that would make heroin seem like candy.

Chapter Text

A/N: Big thanks as always to TwoPence for betareading and helping correct numerous grammar issues.

“Daww, is big bad Shadow Stalker jealous?” Emma cooed, rolling onto her stomach. She could almost hear Sophia rolling her eyes over the phone. “I seriously can’t believe you need convincing. Join her. She’s the only one actually trying to fix the city.”

“You already know I can’t,” said Sophia. “They’d throw me in prison. Besides, Grue is a chode. If she wants me so bad she can kick his sorry ass off the team.”

“How is she supposed to know that unless you tell her?” Asked Emma. She fluttered her feet back and forth above her bed. She hadn't felt like such a fangirl since she’d gone through her Alexandria phase a lifetime ago. She'd never expected to be able to recapture the excitement she'd felt as an innocent child. “I get that joining a fanclub is beneath your oh-so-important dignity as a cape, but this is your chance to get in with the new apex predator.”

Like all things, there was a food chain among capes, and Shadow Stalker was right in the middle. There was value in taking down the footsoldiers, Emma herself was proof of that, but there was only so much Sophia could actually accomplish. After all this time, an A-list cape had finally come around who wasn’t a total pussy, and didn’t give a fuck what the media douchebags thought and actually did what was necessary to save the city.

Not just taking down the capes either, she’d purged the ABB as well. That’s what a cape should have been. Someone worthy of admiration, unlike those preening choir boys in the PRT who only cared about appealing to prey like Taylor.

Sophia was silent for a while. “...Even if I wanted to join, it’s not like I could. A bunch of the queefs on my team are transferring to Winslow so I’ve got to be a good girl scout.”

“All the more reason,” said Emma. “We can be a part of something here, don’t you see? All eyes are on us, and we can show them what it’s all about. You said she sounded like a high schooler right? Who's to say she doesn’t attend herself?”

Emma had heard Everywhere's soft whisper into the camera after finishing off the ABB and had seen her execution of Oni Lee. Strange as it was, she sounded and looked almost exactly like Taylor. Same hair, same build, same voice, hell even the same cadence and rhythm. Not that she’d ever equate the cape who'd finally helped Emma feel safe again with the archetypical victim, someone so weak they’d never managed to grow a spine even after all of Emma’s efforts. It was a shame really, that Taylor never had the balls to fight back. Emma had always wanted to be able to associate with her again, they'd practically been sisters, but Tay Tay proved time and time again that leaving her behind had been the right choice. It sometimes made her angry that Taylor had quit on life the moment some fucked up things had happened. Other times it frightened her. Without Sophia to push her, maybe she'd have turned into a lifeless caricature of a person too.

“Maybe she does go to Winslow,” said Sophia. “Who says she even likes you? You’re kind of a total bitch.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “What’s that matter? She obviously wants power and I'm on top of the hill. Easiest way to get it is to go the way of our good friend Madison.”

Sophia snorted. “Hey, you wanna swim with the sharks, that's fine. Just don’t be surprised if you get eaten.”

Emma wasn’t stupid, she knew that Everywhere was dangerous. Sophia just didn’t understand. Couldn’t.  Emma did. She’d been weak once too, knew how hard it was to be strong, how easy it would be to go soft and backslide. Sometimes she had second thoughts, although less and less with time. Arrogant as it sounded, Emma just wanted her to know that somebody was in her corner, understood what she was doing, how hard it was. 

Emma had to make sure that Everywhere knew that there was nothing wrong with being a predator.

ooOoo

“Look there,” said Victoria, pointing at Everywhere’s spindly arm on the 80 inch 4K television mounted on their lodging’s ugly brutalist concrete wall, rewatching the Central Bank Massacre for the tenth time. “She pretends to stop to take a breath, but her hand touches the pavement right next to the containment foam. After that point, there's no record of her shooting any geysers. She must’ve been resetting her portal. Don’t you understand? That’s her weakness, she only has access to one pair of portals at a time!”

Uncle Neil shared a look with Eric and Crystal.

“She can redirect any projectiles that touch her,” said Uncle Neil. “She can teleport herself, others, and objects as long as they’re within line of sight. The Protectorate suspects that she has a minor thinker power to sense anything within one city block of her. She can even break the manton limit with objects small enough. She’s a vicious, unstable murderer with a grudge against superheroes. She’s probably the second most dangerous cape I’ve ever come across.”

She’d been on the cover of TIME, gunning down a small asian girl by the ferry station, the headline asking The Next Jack Slash?

Others were calling Everywhere Eidolon-lite. But people called Victoria Alexandria-Junior, and she knew she was anything but. Victoria’s power essentially boiled down to fine control of a force field; her apparent invincibility, flight, and strength were applications derived from her primary ability. Everywhere’s powers were much the same, just utilized even more cleverly. She just had to trace all the different expressions of Everywhere’s power back to their origins.

“Give it a rest Vicky,” said Crystal. “Take a break. Mourn.”

“I can mourn later,” said Victoria. This was some of the best footage available to her. The Undersiders had destroyed all the bodycam footage of their battle with the Protectorate at Immaculata High.

Another shared look that Victoria couldn't quite understand.

“I think Amy is exactly where she should be,” said Uncle Neil, finally being direct. Like it was so easy. Just forget about Amy… Forget about her… Abandon her…

Because she’d made one mistake? Weren’t they supposed to be fucking superheroes?

Victoria sucked in an angry breath, forced herself to take another. Her fight-flight-freeze-or-fawn instinct had been activated- more specifically she was being flooded with estrogen, testosterone, and a shitton of cortisol- which made rational thought impossible. Telling them that they’d maybe fucking understand if they’d lost everyone they loved would be callous, cruel, and she’d regret it even though it was true. Or maybe she could ask something else that had been bothering her, making it hard for her to mourn since they cared so fucking much. Hey, did you fuck my mom? Are you actually my dad, Uncle Neil? Because Tattletale really seemed to think so, and everything else she’d said had been right on the fucking mark.

Another breath. In and out. Easy, easy, Victoria. Think about what happened the last time she’d given in to her anger. Simurgh level disasters. She’d destroyed her relationship with Amy, and she’d charged after Bakuda suicidally.

Of course she’d been angry. Bakuda had killed her fucking dad. But blindly attacking the lair of a known bomb tinker had been the height of stupidity, and it had gotten her mom and aunt killed. That said, they’d have probably pulled through if they had Ames with them. 

But no. Victoria had destroyed the most important relationship in her life over something that had been undone in a matter of hours. Amy had even erased her memories of that night at the school, of being captured by Bakuda, which was why she wasn’t suffering from PTSD like the rest of her family and still had enough emotional bandwidth to be a bitchy teenager.

Victoria would be better. Had to be, if she wanted to save her sister from the single most terrifying cape in North America. She relaxed her hands and realized she’d crushed the remote she’d been holding. Be better, Vicky, be better. She tossed the scrap metal in the garbage.

“You don’t have to go,” said Victoria, looking at Eric. “Lots of kids aren’t going. Let me field all the stupid fucking questions we’re gonna get.”

She wasn’t sure whether they’d be welcome or not, now that Bakuda’s bombing had broken the fragile barrier between civilian and cape life. Their presence made every school a target, but the Protectorate couldn’t just pull the capes out, not without unmasking them, and they couldn’t just shut down the schools because they might be targeted.

None of which even got into the fact that everyone would know that she’d lost her parents, and Eric had lost his mom. She wasn’t sure how people would handle it. She also didn’t care. Distance, awkwardness, clumsy sympathy, none of it really mattered one way or the other. She just had to get through a few periods, maybe a few days, and everything would return to normal.

“I may not have your grades,” said Eric. “But I still care about school and it counts now. I don’t know if I want to go to college, I don’t know what I want to do in life, but I want to keep my options open.”

“That’s a good mindset,” said Victoria. “There’s gonna be a lot of new people there. If you see anyone acting weird, let me know.”

With that, the two of them left their temporary underground home and flew until they were within a few blocks of their new school. It wasn’t Arcadia, that was for sure. The roads had plenty of potholes but were actually cleaner than she’d thought they’d be. It was the grown-ass men loitering in packs of two and three on concrete steps to the half-painted doors of shitty duplexes that caught her eye. A sign of gang activity. A lead to Everywhere? Maybe. She’d never been as familiar with the ABB as she had with the Empire which had invaded her backyard.

She’d confront them later. Eric was here, and she wasn’t ready for Everywhere yet. She wouldn’t risk him on her mission. The responsibility was hers alone. Another time.

“New students this way,” waved a teacher. The students from Arcadia were herded into the cafeteria and given their schedules. She and Eric split up, joining their respective friend groups. Victoria accepted the condolences of her friends, and the conversation onto who was in the cafeteria, and who wasn’t. Victoria was far from the only one who’d lost somebody. Basically everyone had lost at least one friend, everyone was sad, everyone was shook. She wasn’t alone. It took away some of the sting of losing her parents and her boyfriend. Not a lot, they were still gone, but it was a reminder that she still had her friends, she still had people who cared about her.

Nothing of note happened in her classes. Some of the teachers acknowledged what had happened, some of them didn’t, but US History went over the Reconstruction Era, Calculus went over integrals, and English went over Shakespeare. Just normal classes, if a few weeks behind the curriculum at Arcadia. Sure the students were… Rowdier… The classes were a little less… challenging… She’d never had a teacher swear at students for whispering to each other during a lecture, ignoring others doing the same in the corner, only to realize that the teacher wasn’t actually being hypocritical and half the students were doubling as translators. But it was still school at the end of the day. Not so different than Arcadia.

Then lunch happened, and on the way to the cafeteria Victoria got her first true sense of culture shock. While an asian boy tried to sell her hard drugs, she noticed a lanky girl had her back pressed against her locker, her curly black hair just visible over a group of girls packed around her more tightly than defensive linemen guarding an A-gap run.

“Just ignore it,” said the boy in red and green. “Trust me, you’re gonna wanna chase this dragon. Soma. Sure it’s expensive, but it’ll give you all the fun of heroin with none of the downsides. Euphoria in a golden egg…”

Victoria tuned him out, focused on the bullshit happening right in front of her.

“What does she use to wash her face? A Brillo pad?”

“She should! She’d look better!”

“Never talks to anybody. Maybe she knows she sounds like a retard and keeps her mouth shut.”

“No, she’s not that smart.”

A teacher walked by.

“If I were her, I’d kill myself.”

And the teacher kept on walking. What?

“So glad we don’t have gym with her. Can you imagine seeing her in the locker room?  Gag me with a spoon.”

Victoria waited for a classmate to jump in. Grab a teacher, not that it would help. Nope, they just walked right on by. What the fuck was wrong with these people?

“And she smells,” one girl said, lamely.

“Like expired grape and orange juice.”

Victoria committed their faces to memory.

“What’s the matter, Taylor?” asked a familiar-looking redhead, wearing a tacky shirt that somehow made her even more unlikable. A bully and an unrepentant fascist? Lovely. The word Everywhere was stretched across her too-large chest. “You look upset. So upset you’re going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?”

Taylor started to shake. She tried to push her way out but couldn’t.

“You know your dad blames you for your mother’s dea-”

“Her mother’s what?” Metal screeched as Victoria pulled her fist out of the locker she’d just put it through. “Go on, finish the sentence. Make my fucking day.”

Strange. They’d all been so talkative earlier. Now they had nothing to say.

“You know, I lost my mother recently,” said Victoria conversationally, squeezing the stainless steel she’d ripped from the locker like it was a stress ball. “My Uncle didn’t want me to come today. He thought I might be unstable.”

One of the girls wimpered and pissed herself. But they’d been so brave earlier? Where’d all their confidence from earlier gone? Weren’t they supposed to be fans of Everywhere? Didn’t they think their hero was gonna protect them?

“Relax,” said Victoria, smiling, tossing the redhead the ball of steel. “I’m not like you cunts. I’m not a fucking bully. You get one. Just one.”

The beautiful redhead dropped the steel ball. Made sense, her arms were skinny and it weighed about thirty pounds. She gave a stiff nod, looking stricken, and hurried off with her lackeys.

Taylor was still pressed against her locker, her brown eyes locked onto Victoria. “Thank you.”

“Let’s eat lunch together,” said Victoria. The invitation was partly out of duty, partly from curiosity, but also because she felt a connection, somewhere deep in her gut.

“Why?” Asked Taylor suspiciously, her hand gripped her locker tight. “Would Alexandria Junior deign to eat lunch with me?”

Victoria smirked. “You heard of a trigger event? Powers emerge on the worst day of your life. That shit you’re going through might just make you the single most important person in the entire school.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Bullshit.”

She wasn’t talking about trigger events.

“Because it was my idea to go after Bakuda,” said Victoria. “And maybe you know how I feel.”

“Okay,” said Taylor, her hand leaving the locker. They met up on the roof. Victoria flew, Taylor took the stairs. They ate in silence at first, but Taylor opened up some. Talked about her mother’s death, the bullying she’d endured, the way it was ignored by the students, teachers, and administration. All clinical. Detached. Taylor thought the reason her plight had been ignored was because one of the bullies' fathers was a lawyer and the administration were cowards. The truth was worse.

According to Taylor, one of the bullies was Sophia Hess—Shadow Stalker. Look at that, dear old mom had been right about the Protectorate and accountability. They really were as morally bankrupt as she’d always insisted.

Mom, you were right. You were right. Sorry I couldn’t ever tell you that.

“For the longest time I wanted to transfer to Arcadia,” said Taylor bitterly. “And then it got blown up. Now my dad says he’s going to sell Mom’s house and make us move. He only agreed to put it off if I started going back to school. Fucking didn’t know he was into that power-abusing bullshit.”

“That’s because he’s not,” said Victoria. “It sounds like he cares about you. Cherish him while you have him.”

“You might be right.” Taylor’s bitter laughter was as familiar as it was unsettling. Victoria couldn’t quite place it. “I wish I’d met you sooner Junior.”

Was she trying to be funny? Or was she being off putting on purpose? And why did she feel so damn familiar?

“You came here to look for your sister didn’t you?” Asked Taylor, studying Victoria with an uncomfortable intensity. “Why?”

“I…” Victoria licked her lips, stared at her white leather boots. What the fuck was she scared of? She was Glory Girl, one of the strongest capes in the city. So why did she feel like she’d just stepped into the Slaughterhouse? “I… I want to save her from the Undersiders. From Everywhere.”

“She tried to mindrape you,” said Taylor, tilting her head, analyzing Victoria like she was a bug under a magnifying glass. “And you want to save her?”

“It’s…” Victoria steeled herself. “It’s not her fault. Tattletale mastered her! And she… She took it all back, she set me right, even when that bitch Everywhere had a glock to the back of her head!”

“So Amy changed?” Taylor asked. “I’d be skeptical if I were you. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that people don’t change. They can maybe be beaten into compliance, but change? That’s impossible.”

“People make mistakes,” said Victoria, her voice faltering. “Ames is more than a sister to me, she’s my best friend. She’s done so much to help me over the years, and yeah, she made a mistake- a big one, but still just one- and she did what she could to fix it. At a certain point you’ve got to forgive people.”

She wasn’t even sure that she believed what she was saying.

“No,” said Taylor. “You really don’t. You shouldn’t. You can’t. Every single time I’ve tried to forgive someone I’ve been burnt, every single time. You want peace of mind? Become a monk, because the stakes are higher here. You want Amy to be the hero you thought she was; she’s not.”

“Maybe she’s not,” said Victoria. “But being surrounded by villains isn’t going to help her become Panacea again. She needs to be around people who love her.”

“Love,” said Taylor bitterly. “Love, love, love. Love is all you need. Give me a fucking break. I used to be best friends with that lovely redhead you had the privilege of meeting, Emma Barnes. I know her parents. They love her. That’s why good old Alan Barnes came to school and threatened our dear Principal Blackwell with a lawsuit, because he loved his daughter. For all his efforts to protect her, I think you did more for her today than he ever did. Love doesn’t do shit. Fear is what matters.”

Victoria’s aura flared fury. Taylor stared at her distinctly unimpressed.

“You think I’m soft?” Asked Victoria, levitating a foot off the ground, so she could glare down her nose at Taylor. “You think I’m like Principal Blackwell? I’m not going to fucking enable her! I’m fucking Glory Gir-”

Taylor’s hand was on her thigh. “And if I were Amy you’d have been mastered.”

Victoria flushed. She’d gotten so used to her invincibility that she’d let a fucking civilian get the jump on her. And she wanted to take on Everywhere, the Michael Jordan of all things villainous? Yeah right.

Victoria grabbed a fistful of Taylor’s sweater, and lifted her off the ground effortlessly. An inch, a foot… More. “But you’re not. And I actually am fucking Glory Girl.”

Taylor smirked. “And who exactly is Glory Girl?”

A fucking cape, that’s fucking who! One of the most powerful in the city! She’d been scaring the shit out of neonazis for years, she didn’t need a fucking lecture on criminal psychology from a civilian. Maybe she’d hold Taylor over the building, see if Brockton Bay’s so-called golden girl really was so soft…

What the fuck was wrong with her? After all the shit she’d gotten in, she’d still lost her temper when someone supplied the bare minimum amount of resistance. She levitated down, and dumped Taylor on the roof.

“Sorry.”

“And there it is,” said Taylor, brushing herself, moving to the exit. “That’s why I can’t give you Amy.”

What? Give who? How? Who exactly was she? Why did so much about Taylor feel so familiar?

And just like that, everything clicked.

“Wait,” said Victoria, flying in front of her. “You said you wished you’d met me earlier. Why?”

“Because if you’d been around to protect me,” said Taylor. “I wouldn’t have had to turn to Everywhere.”

Just as she’d expected. Taylor was ABB. When the heroes couldn’t protect them, the people would turn to somebody who could, no matter how vile.

Taylor was what Amy would have turned into if Victoria hadn’t been around. That’s why Taylor felt so familiar, why Victoria had invited her to lunch. She reminded her of Amy. An Amy who wasn’t in love with her. An Amy who actually held Victoria accountable.

“See you around Taylor.”

“See you around Victoria.”

She wouldn’t threaten Taylor. She’d win her over. Get her to quit the ABB, and turn over Amy of her own volition.

ooOoo

“Fucking bureaucracy,” said Danny’s daughter angrily, taking another sip from her Blue Moon. Armsmaster frowned, she didn’t look 21. “Trust them to get it wrong and fire the only fucking cape doing their job! But that’s any big organization for you. Always clueless to what’s going on on the ground.”

“I like you Armsmaster,” said Danny, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “But I’d have had some serious reservations about killing a sixteen year old girl who’d just lost her mother. To be honest, I’d have probably turned on you too.”

“How old are you?” Armsmaster demanded. She couldn’t have been 21!

“Old enough to know that you were absolutely right,” said Danny’s daughter, blushing slightly. From the alcohol? “You’re being too emotional Dad. You’re not getting the scale of a potential plague. What if some villain took the president’s wife hostage? Does that give him the right to give away the nuclear launch codes? No! He still has to be the president, and his responsibility is to protect the country over any one person, just like Armsmaster had to worry about the entire world, not Panacea’s circumstances.”

“Maybe,” said Danny. “But still… I don’t like it, and I’m not surprised you lost your job over it.”

“I’m being put on temporary leave,” Armsmaster clarified, draining his glass of ale. Not only had he lost his position, if Danny’s reaction was anything to go by his popularity had vanished to nothing. “And not as punishment for my decision to give a kill order on Panacea, I was following established protocol. That isn’t why I’m being forced to step down. Half my team hates me. The other half are dead, because I couldn’t get them to follow orders. Leadership isn’t about decision making- that’s a naive conception- it’s about getting people to do what you tell them. I couldn’t. That’s why Everywhere stands on the precipice of conquering the city, because I wasn’t good enough. Miss Militia will be better. They will respect her. Follow her, like they wouldn’t follow me. My removal was necessary.”

True, his helmet read. He stared into the bottom of the empty glass. He’d lost control of his team. He couldn’t remember how he’d felt at the time, Panacea had taken his memories of the event, and the Undersiders had destroyed the bodycam footage, but he’d watched the video patched together from a number of nearby sources. Seen their defiance. He’d felt his authority slipping away for years. He’d hoped he might salvage it, but his time at Brockton Bay could only be considered a failure.

“But you were fucking right ,” said Danny’s daughter, still not understanding how little that mattered. “Bakuda had been neutralized, and Amy had created a self-replicating, airborne plague. It would have been fatal if anything happened to her. She knocked you out in half-a-second, meaning she didn’t need the plague to take down Bakuda. It was an act of bio-terrorism, so nobody could stop her from doing whatever she wanted.”

“That seems a little far-fetched,” said Danny. “She was only 16, and she’s been a hero for years.”

“No, your daughter is correct,” said Armsmaster. “The plague was created to give leverage against us. Panacea built her plague for leverage, as Bakuda built her bomb. The difference was that Panacea was holding all of North America hostage, where Bakuda was restrained enough to only threaten Brockton Bay. If you’re comfortable with Bakuda being given a kill order, you must be comfortable with Panacea being given one.”

“But why not work with the villains?” Asked Danny. “If they were offering help.”

Armsmasters shook his hand dismissively. “Bakuda was a delicate situation. It was an operation which required precision, not firepower. I needed a team I could trust to follow orders.”

He probably shouldn’t say more, but what did it matter? He’d already lost his job.

“Dragon was helping me create a device that could hijack Bakuda’s control over her bombs,” said Armsmaster. “We were almost finished when Squirter attacked me unprovoked, and gave Bakuda the opening she needed to kill half my team.”

Danny’s daughter took several large gulps from her bitter ale.

“Your henchmen were incompetent,” said Danny’s daughter finally. “They thought with their hearts instead of their heads, and they’re blaming you for making the hard decision that needed to be made. They’re scapegoating you instead of looking at their own mistakes, and it’s bullshit. If I were a new cape, I’d never even consider joining the Protectorate after what they did to you. You did what was fucking right and they railroaded you for it!”

“Then you’d be a fool,” said Armsmaster. “Rogues and villains don’t survive long and never accomplish anything.”

“Neither has the Protectorate!”

“You’re still here,” said Armsmaster defensively. “The villains still operate in the shadows, rather than ruling directly. You haven’t been killed by an Endbringer. You have the Protectorate to thank for that.”

With that, the conversation shifted to other things. A new drug on the street called Soma, which much like its namesake from Brave New World, induced feelings of euphoria without negative health effects or clouding the mind. It was in all likelihood a creation from Panacea, which meant she was probably still under control of Squirter, was starting to experiment with her powers, and was continuing to create self-replicating bacteria.

Frankly he was more alarmed that she hadn’t been given a kill order than he was about his own dismissal.

Danny’s daughter didn’t seem to understand the danger of it. She was too young to understand the more insidious ways that drugs could ruin lives, beyond simple physical degradation. Panacea was creating an emotional crutch for the most vulnerable, ensuring they would never heal properly, making them utterly dependent on a product that only she could provide. It was just another form of control.

Soon enough, the Herberts had eaten their fill. Before they left, her hand on the door, Danny’s daughter turned.

“You’re too good for the Protectorate anyways,” she said. “Someday, you’re gonna look back on all this and realize it was the best thing that ever happened to you. Your story doesn’t end here. It’s just beginning.”

“Doubtful,” said Armsmaster. “Brockton Bay is no better now than it was when I found it. Half of my team is dead, our headquarters destroyed, no major villains captured. My reign has been among the most disastrous in modern history. I am a failure.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “If they’d have just followed your orders they’d still be alive.”

“I led the branch,” said Armsmaster. “Of course it’s my fault. It was my job to get them to follow my orders. Knowing the right thing to do is easy, actually getting people to do it, that’s the hard part. That’s the job. And I couldn’t do it.”

He couldn’t. He’d never been able to. The Wards were getting their ranks supplemented, but the city’s actual Protectorate had not received sufficient reinforcements. Not to replace himself, Dauntless, and Velocity. For whatever reason, management wanted to concede the city to Squirter. Miss Militia would take the fall.

The Heberts had left, and he didn’t feel any better. He considered calling Miss Militia. Giving her advice, perhaps a warning about the actual nature of Director Costa-Brown and the politics involved in leading the branch. But no, what good would his advice do? He’d failed. Spectacularly. His help would only lead her astray.

His cell phone buzzed. He checked the number on his monitor. Dragon.

He hadn’t spoken to her since… No. Not right now. Later. He had to rebuild the prediction software he’d lost on the Endbringers. Leadership had never suited him anyways. The fate of Brockton Bay, its Protectorate, was no longer his concern. If he could just kill Leviathan, nobody would even remember…

If he could just kill Leviathan…

It was his purpose. His purpose… His purpose… It was his damn purpose!

Fuck! He tossed his keyboard.

Why couldn’t he enter a damn tinker fugue? Was this how Kid Win always felt? Interesting- if he examined his environment, potential psychological blocks, perhaps he might-

No. Kid Win’s development was no longer his concern. Miss Militia’s readiness was no longer his responsibility. All that mattered was Levia-

A skeletal shadow flashed in his peripheral vision.

… He switched on the camera in his helmet, and made sure it was feeding directly to the Pentagon.

“So you’ve finally come for me,” said Armsmaster, lifting his halberd. “Squirter. Know this. I will not go down without a fight.”

Reinforce the taunt and focus her anger. It had been his idea after all. He’d known exactly what he’d been doing when he’d allowed Clockblocker to name her. He'd never been capable of the petty cruelty his position had so often required.

His story ended here. How many of the heroes had Squirter tagged while they were unconscious after she’d released her plague? All of them. This video would be proof. She could teleport to them at any time, banish them at any time. The Brockton Bay Branch had been compromised. Only after she’d eliminated all the heroes could the Protectorate make a move.

“Yes,” whispered Squirter, her tone expressionless, her facial patterns covered by her garbage-bag mask. “I’ve come for you Armsmaster. I want to offer you a job.”

“No,” said Armsmaster firmly. “Whatever excuses you tell yourself, you are a villain. You’ve committed terrorism, murder, robbery, and taken control of one of the largest gangs in the entire city. You’re not like Kaiser and Lung. You and Panacea are the two worst villains I’ve ever encountered. I will never join you.”

“Join?” Asked Squirter. “No, you misunderstand. I don’t want you to join my gang. I want you to lead it.

“I want to follow you.”

True. His helmet blinked. True.

He faltered.

Nobody in the Protectorate had ever said that to him. Not in ten years. She was playing him. She was obviously playing him. She had to be…

But… When Bakuda had played her hand, when she’d unleashed her child soldiers to take advantage of the heroes’ compassion, Squirter had been on the exact same page as him. Ordered the Undersiders to retreat, and helped him salvage the situation by turning his own halberd on his team. Without words they’d effortlessly been on the same wavelength, in a way he’d never been with the rest of the Protectorate. How much could he accomplish if he could just assume obedience? All his ideas he’d given up on could actually be implemented! Maybe, just maybe he could actually prove…

Was this how she had gotten so many to follow her? If so, she was more dangerous than anyone had predicted.

“No,” said Armsmaster. “No.”

“All this,” said Squirter, motioning at his workshop. “We can replicate it. Your team, the Protectorate and all its politics held you back. The Undersiders are where you can achieve your potential, your purpose. Come. Destiny awaits.”

“You’re a villain,” said Armsmaster, stumbling backwards. “I will never join you!”

“I don’t want to be,” said Squirter, advancing on him slowly. “You may not believe me, but I thought everything I did was right at the time.”

True, taunted his helmet. True.

“I want to be a good person,” said Squirter. “I just don’t know how. I didn’t like Panacea’s plague, but I went along with it. She played me, she played Tattletale, played most of the Protectorate, but she didn’t get you. I want to do right by the ABB. I want to save Brockton Bay. I want to help people. Show me how.”

True. True, true, true.

“I got half my team killed,” said Armsmaster bitterly. “You’re asking me how to fix this? How to be a good person? I don’t know. I thought I did, but nothing worked. Nothing worked, nothing ever worked. You’re right here so I may as well ask. Why did you choose to kill so many people, rob a bank, how could you possibly think that any of that was remotely okay?”

Squirter stopped. “I expected more from you. Everything I did was for the greater good. I couldn’t let Bakuda dictate the battlefield, so I robbed a bank to lure her out in the open. Holding back against the Wards would have telegraphed what I was doing. I’ve only killed people who deserved it. Villains who used their powers to bully others. The world is a better place without them.”

“What separates you from them?” Asked Armsmaster. “What’s to stop me from saying the world is a better place without you, and trying to kill you?”

“I’ve stopped the ABB from selling hard drugs,” said Squirter.

“Soma,” said Armsmaster.

“That’s different,” said Squirter.

“The ABB still commits crimes, thievery, muggings,” said Armsmaster. “If at a lesser rate. You’re responsible for their actions.”

“They’re not ABB,” growled Squirter. “I won’t tolerate it. Give me their names, and I’ll see it dealt with.”

“By having Hellhound rip them apart with her dogs?” Asked Armsmaster. “I’ve heard the stories. I’d rather not have a thirteen-year-old youth murdered for shoplifting.”

“I wouldn’t put Bitch on them for that,” said Squirter. “But there would still be punishments. Give an inch and they’ll take a mile.”

“What specifically would the punishment be?” Asked Armsmaster. “Have you thought about it for each crime? You must. Justice must be blind. Rules must be codified, communicated, and standardized. You seem to think that you’re capable of picking out good people from bad people. You’re not. Nobody is. Eventually, no matter how smart you are, you will pick wrong. You saw what happened with Panacea. So long as rules are well communicated, your job as an authority is to enforce them. Not listen to sob stories, nor get angry and make up your own. In both situations, people will lose respect for you.”

He waited for her to contradict him like any of the other Wards would have. 

“Tell me more.”

Someone was finally listening. Of course the only people who’d ever wanted his help were the most dangerous gang since the Slaughterhouse itself. But…

A triumvirate of Panacea, Squirter, and Tattletale. Auxiliary members in Hijack, Hellhound, and Grue. With himself in the lead, they’d have enough power to…

No.

No. They were villains.

“I’ve tried to work with your kind before,” said Armsmaster. “Probationary heroes, we called them. What a joke. She ruined the camaraderie of the Wards and inhibited their progress, disrespected my authority which damaged my ability to lead, and had holes in her reports that always seemed to coincide with various gangsters being found with lethal wounds from crossbow bolts.”

Armsmaster scoffed. “My administration called it coincidental, insufficient evidence to put away their little pet project. They like to pretend that everyone can be a hero, that anyone can be redeemed with some therapy and support. It is a fantasy that hurts everyone. The Birdcage was built for people like her. Instead we bent the law to give her another chance, and she took it as a signal that our threats were hollow. How many innocents have been hurt by the leniency I knew full well would burn us? I don’t intend to make that mistake ever again.”

“So that’s it then? I can never do good? I can never be a hero?”

Armsmaster hesitated.

“For you there’s hope.” Armsmaster admitted. “Turn yourself in. I’ve worked with other capes with checkered histories, and some of them have turned out to be fine heroes. But it’s always the ones who seek help, never the ones who have it forced upon them. You will never be able to control Panacea. We both know that whatever hold you have over her won’t last, and soon she’ll be justifying her next atrocity. Humanity might not survive her next mistake. Kill her.”

“But she doesn’t have a kill order,” said Squirter mockingly. “Armsmaster, are you telling me to break the law?”

No. Of course not. The law had been quite clear. Self replication triggered a kill order. Panacea had been granted an exception from justice. The typical rules had not applied.

Armsmaster gripped his halberd. One last puzzle piece clicked into place.

The Protectorate had identified Panacea as the next Eidolon. If properly challenged, if properly cultivated, she might grow into her powers. She might be the cape they’d expended so much of their resources to find; one capable of bringing down an Endbringer. And with New Wave, Panacea had committed the greatest crime a powerful cape could commit in the eyes of the Protectorate: she’d stagnated. But within hours of joining the Undersiders she’d begun to apply her powers in new and exciting ways.

One city. Even one continent. Acceptable losses if it meant developing a cape strong enough to take down an Endbringer. Panacea’s lack of a kill order was all the proof he needed.

Amy Dallon was Director Costa-Brown’s new project.

“I won’t kill her,” said Squirter. “Not unless you order it.”

Tattletale was a far bigger threat than anyone had ever predicted. In one conversation, Squirter had almost seduced him into villainy, expertly targeting doubts, insecurities, and weaknesses he’d never even known he’d had.

“No,” said Armsmaster. “I will never join you. I will never lead you. I will advise you though. Kill Panacea and turn yourself in. That is your path to redemption.”

“Advice is for cowards,” said Squirter. “To dodge responsibility. We both know you’re not a coward. You’ve already realized where you’re needed. Where your purpose lies. Your destiny is here to be taken. Seize it.”

Seize his destiny? Fine.

Armsmaster thrust his halberd at her, struck empty air. Squirter had vanished as suddenly as she’d appeared, like a ghost, a bad nightmare.

He slid to the ground. She could reappear at any time. He was dead unless he joined… And… He might… With enough time he might be able to come up with a reason… Not to join her. Because… 

She’d convinced him. He just needed some time to think about it and he’d turn…

Shit.

With shaking fingers, he dialed Dragon. 

There was a faint tapping sound. A clink of something hard on metal or glass coming from the vents. He ignored it. He needed to talk to someone. Get his head on straight.

Dragon was quiet, as he confessed his failures, his doubts, his temptation to go down a darker path to the only other cape who’d ever seemed to understand him. He bared his soul to the only tinker in the world he would call his superior.

“I need your help on a project,” said Dragon. “I was given the specs to the bomb Bakuda made to destroy Brockton Bay. Director Costa-Brown wants us to reproduce it, but shrink it down.”

The Protectorate could only want the bomb for one reason. To take down an Endbringer.

Colin felt a smile touch his lips. Others might have tried to console him, empathize with him. Dragon gave him work. “What is the maximum weight limit?”

“300 pounds.”

He was so, so lucky to have Dragon. He finished the last of his Blue Moon and got to work.

Chapter Text

Author’s Note: Big thanks to Two Pence for beta reading and helping me edit!

“I know this is scary, but it’s really not that big a deal if you think about it,” said Tattletale, skipping through the office. “How often did you really talk to your boss anyways? Aside from your articles actually being read, you’ll hardly notice a difference, pinky promise.”

“It will be different,” I said, leaning next to the door. Armsmaster had been right, Brockton Bay’s legal system was broken. I needed to fix it. To do that, I needed a way of communicating my expectations to the masses. It was time to make use of the piles of money we’d made off selling Soma. The Brockton Bay Inquirer was my newest purchase, my newest tool. “You’ll write what we tell you. As I see it you were about to go bankrupt before us. You wanna quit, fine. Here’s the door, you’re free to go. But if you choose to stay, you follow orders.”

The room was so quiet that I could hear the rain hitting against the side of the skyscraper.

“You can’t expect this to work,” said one journalist mildly, adjusting his glasses. “You really think that they’ll just let you control the media? I should walk out. We all should. This is just another avenue of conquest, and I won’t be a part of it.”

“Then leave,” I said, nodding at the door. “You’re replaceable. I only need the distribution lines.”

“Or take a minute to think,” said Tattletale, shooting me a vulpine smile, and hopping onto the journalist's messy desk. Half written articles spilled off it but neither seemed to care. “Who really controls the media? Who spins the stories? Those you call ‘villains’ ? Or the ones you call ‘heroes’ ? How many of you know what my friend here stands for? How many of you know what I, the great Tattletale, stand for? Don’t you think the people deserve the truth? I'm offering you primary sources, not PRT hearsay.”

“I’m not going to be writing your propaganda,” said the dark-haired man, standing, towering above us. “And I know none of my colleagues will either.”

Tattletale smirked. “But somebody will. And baby oh baby it’s gonna sell. Wanna know my powers? I can read minds. That’s why the Triumvirate won’t save you. They can’t get near me or I’ll expose all their secrets.”

The dark-haired man sat down.

“You ain’t in Kansas anymore,” said Tattletale, looking down at him from atop her perch. “We can offer you access to the villains, to stories that never get told. Isn’t that a journalist’s job?”

“Okay princess,” said a sharply dressed journalist, just as photogenic as her partner. I couldn't help but wonder if the hiring manager had hired for competence instead of looks, the newspaper may not have been in the red. “Prove it. What’s your story?”

Tattletale flashed her a grin. “Me? My story? Well it begins as all stories do. When I mysteriously woke up one day with powers, told my folks, learned they were pieces of shit and ran away. Tried to make it alone, that ended with me staring down a gun barrel. I needed a crew so I picked out Bitch and Grue, and an anonymous few. Good or evil, I wasn’t aligned, just like my hero Faultline. I played by the rules, stole money from guys who could afford pools, and gave the heroes some action so they’d be prepared for monsters like Leviathan. But I won’t deny why I checked into the game, for the money and the fame. That’s true for most capes, from legends like Alexandria to jokes like Leet. Some though, some are in it for other reasons.” She nodded at me.

“If you’re not in it for glory,” said the journalist. “Why are you buying a newspaper?”

It was a good question. One I'd prepared for. Still though, I took my time, made sure that my thoughts were organized, coherent. Their attention pressured me to speak, but I let the silence linger for another few moments, steeled myself, listened to the steady splattering of rain droplets on the window. I closed my eyes and let my senses drift to the stamps. In the PRT, in a pair of dumps, and one back home. I was in all four of those places, and here. With my awareness expanded, my nerves disappeared. We were so small.

I opened my eyes. I was ready.

“Because the people deserve the truth,” I said. “Brockton Bay is dying. Bet is dying. The gangs rule the streets, the government is failing to provide basic services, businesses have vanished, our schools aren’t safe, the courts have been neutered, and people run from their existence with hard drugs. These problems have solutions. Solutions current leadership, whether it be the mayor or the protectorate refuse to pursue. Because it won’t win them an election, because it won’t help them sell action figures, because actually solving the hard problems will be painful, unpopular, and unprofitable. Can’t be seen brutalizing villains, if you fight the bad guys on their level you’ve already lost, I used to think like that once. Being a good person got me hospitalized, while the people who put me there laughed, and the people in charge did. Absolutely. Nothing. More worried about the criminals than the victims. The Protectorate is a joke, Mayor Christener is a joke. Kaiser’s laughing. Lung laughed too. Once. I stopped him. I was born here. I grew up in the Docks. This is my home. I am going to save Brockton Bay.”

Every journalist in the room had their eyes on me. I waited for one of them to contradict me. Say Armsmaster had killed Lung. Maybe defend the mayor. Or the sheer hypocritic absurdity of me, Taylor Hebert, calling someone else a joke. More than anything I waited for the laughter, the mockery. That I was trash, that the idea of me saving anything was a fantasy. None did.

“And how exactly are you going to save the city?” Asked one reporter.

“Rules,” I said. “That apply to everyone: from the Simurgh to the lowest worm, nobody is exempt. Cross them, and you become an enemy. Same as Bakuda.”

I paused. Waited for the laughter. The objections. Nothing.

“No drugs,” I said. “No robberies. No rape. No prostitution, no human trafficking, and no bullshit power abuse. Not from the ABB or the Undersiders; not from the Empire or the Merchants; not from the teachers, lawyers, and corrupt politicians; and not even from your so-called ‘ heroes’ perpetuating this broken system. They won’t be able to protect the powerful from consequences any longer. Nobody escapes justice. I’m going to bring back the Brockton Bay we once all loved. No more trash on the streets, no more addicts ruining their own lives and others, no more cape violence. I’m gonna fix it. Bring business back, bring jobs back. I’m gonna make it so we can trust our courts and schools and police.”

“I’m gonna make the ferries run again,” I whispered to Mom. “Make you proud that you lived here. I will save Brockton Bay. And I’ll destroy anyone who tries to stop me.”

From there, I let Tattletale take back the lead on the operation. It took a week before I saw the newspapers lining the shelves. At first it didn't seem like much had changed. I passed a few news stalls, and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. School wasn't so bad anymore, nobody was willing to cross Glory Girl to threaten me. It had taken her all of ten minutes to stop the bullying. That's what a competent authority should look like. That’s what fucking integrity looked like. It was probably unreasonable to expect a teacher to be able to threaten students like a cape could, but perhaps expulsion? Easy. I wouldn't be averse to a little corporal punishment either. Actually, eye-for-an-eye seemed perfectly reasonable. If you push someone in a locker full of used tampons, get ready to spend an hour in there yourself.

Of course I'd need a way of ensuring accountability. I chuckled humorlessly as I remembered how Bakuda had defeated me when we'd first fought. Cameras, cameras everywhere. Rig the school with cameras recording everyone, everywhere at all times, store the footage using VCR tapes. Maybe preserve one day's worth of tapes in backup, then record over them. If a student had a complaint, they'd just need to remember the time and location, and a fact-based conclusion could be reached. Let Emma try and ask for evidence then! And what was it Coil had done to our old headquarters? He'd bugged the place. I could bug the school. Make sure every word could be replayed. And if I could do it to a school, I could do the same to the town. Maybe not the entire city, but key areas people could keep to, in order to stay safe. Museums, banks, gas stations, tons of places already did it, and it fucking worked!

The biggest reason people turned to crime was the same reason that pieces of shit like Emma had bullied me. They thought they could get away with it. They thought justice was blind.

It didn't have to be. Installing the necessary surveillance could solve crime forever. Politicians were just too squeamish, too concerned with what people thought of them to actually fix the problem.

I could fix it, if I were in charge. I wouldn't let the belly aching of bleeding hearts like my dad stop me from doing what was required to keep my people safe. I could fix it. I could fix it.

And if I could, didn’t I have a responsibility to do it? If nobody else would, was it really alright to just sit by and let everyone suffer?

“That's a fucking horrible idea,” said Victoria, as we ate lunch together on the roof. “Please tell me that that's not her next scheme.”

“It would fix things,” I said, unwilling to give up on my great idea. “You just don't understand what it's like. People with power abuse it all the time, because they know that the system will always side with them. The courts, the schools, or just a popularity contest: it doesn’t matter, it's all the same game. The only reason Emma had to stop is because you had more power than she did, otherwise she would've gotten away with it forever. Get over your programming for a moment, and try to answer objectively: wouldn't having footage of actual events make things more fair? How many problems do we get into because we can’t tell when someone is lying? Doesn't it actually help the poorest and weakest? I think that that's the problem. The rich and powerful have poisoned the well, they've paid Hollywood, they've paid the schools, all to trick us into thinking that holding the bullies accountable somehow means your mysterious freedom is being taken away. News flash, your so-called freedom is just an excuse to keep bullies from being held accountable.”

“Or the teachers could have just done their fucking job,” said Victoria lightly. “Brockton Bay isn't that bad. Winslow is definitely corrupt, but Arcadia wasn't, and Immaculata isn't. What you're proposing is a classic overreaction. You really want to give a fucking kidnapping murder the ability to spy on us…”

I held my tongue as Vicky went on an emotionally-driven, somewhat disturbing rant. Victoria was a good person, but she didn't know what the fuck she was talking about. She'd grown up in a bubble of rich, beautiful people, she didn't have a clue how most of us lived. She was as spoiled and sheltered as Tattletale always made her out to be. Next time the two encountered maybe I'd let Tattletale have her fun, it would do Glory Girl some good to be torn down a peg or two.

Victoria held out a newspaper. The Brockton Bay Inquirer . My newspaper.

“Everywhere's taken control of the press,” said Victoria. “Had them run lies about the Protectorate. This is dangerous. This is, this is fucking horrifying Taylor . This isn't an attack on capes, this is an attack on the the fucking mayor. This is a statement of intention.”

“Is the nightmare beginning?” I asked. “Or have we just been trying to fool ourselves into thinking we aren't already in one?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that Everywhere wouldn’t be a threat if the Protectorate were actually doing it’s job.”

“She took my sister from me,” said Victoria, her aura flaring, hovering a foot above me. “She almost killed my fucking boyfriend robbing a bank! Brave words Taylor, but you’re never gonna fight her. You don’t know what it’s fucking like!”

I smacked the newspaper she was holding. “She says she wants to save the city. Make the ferries run again. Do you even fucking get what that means? You know why they were never brought back? Because the ferries connect the Docks with the rest of the city. You guys threw us out to dry, let us deal with Lung, the Merchants, the refugees, and the corruption all alone. For all that Bakuda said, she was right about one thing: You never considered us equals. You’re gonna come into the Docks on your high horse and tell me how to make things better? You never actually solved any problems, you just exported them to a place you didn’t have to look at and gave yourself a big pat on the back for a job well done.”

Victoria took a deep breath and touched down. “I heard what they did to you. I can’t even imagine, and I totally get why you’d want to burn everything down. I should have been there. I’m here now. I’m going to fix things Tay. Just give me some time.”

I looked at Glory Girl’s extended hand. Pristine and clean.

“Prove it,” I said. “Get rid of the Empire before Everywhere.”

Somehow, Dad was being even dumber about the whole thing than Victoria. You'd have thought that I'd killed Alexandria not purchased a bankrupt newspaper syndication.

“I just think it's funny,” I said, the sloppy joes I'd made for dinner untouched on my twice chipped plate, the buns slowly getting soggy and brown. “That all the so-called heroes get interviewed all the fucking time but when a villain does it it's suddenly the end of the world. It's the same fucking thing, but one group’s popular and one group’s not.”

“Don't try and equate what happened to you at Winslow with what's happening here,” said Dad. “We've got a villain running a propaganda campaign. Paving the way for… Taylor, I know we made a deal, but this is too much. We're moving.”

I trembled. Him too? I'd actually held up my end of the deal. I hadn't killed anyone and I'd been to school every fucking day, but the second things turned against him justice went out the window. He was no different than the rest of them.

“Did… Did you even read the article? She said she'd bring the ferries back. Don't you care anymore?”

Why? Why did Dad hate me? Didn't he see how hard I was working for him, for everyone? How much I was putting myself through? The danger, the hard decisions, making myself public enemy number one? Did he think I liked being a villain? Did he really think I was just in it for power? After all I’d been through with Emma, how could he think that? How? How? Why couldn't he see that I was good? 

“Of course I care!” Dad roared. I shrunk into my chair. He'd never yelled at me before and I didn't like it. It was like I was back in time, when Emma had first turned on me. “Of course I can see the good she’s doing! Of course I can understand the appeal! Don’t you fucking get it? That’s what’s so horrifying! Kaiser, Lung, not even fucking Jack Slash and Glaistig Uaine terrify me a tenth as much as she does. She’s got mainstream appeal that no other villain has ever had! She’s going to take over the city, and things aren’t going to fall apart. What if things actually do get better? How long until we’ve got copycats? How long until every aspect of every city in America is controlled by the strongest cape? She represents an existential threat to the Protectorate. Don’t be fooled, this article is a declaration of war. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Doesn’t she have a right to criticize the PRT and the government, by the first amendment?” I asked rhetorically, forcing myself to straighten my back, keep my voice steady. “If a few words scare you so much I really think that says more about you than about her.”

Please Dad. Be better than Emma.

He was quiet for a moment and I allowed myself to imagine that I’d finally gotten through to him. “Do you think I’m a fool? Do you think I can’t see what’s going on?”

Fuck. Had he… Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You’ve got some kind of connection to Everywhere,” Dad said quietly, slowly, like each word hurt him. “You know too much about her. All her philosophy, everything she’s planning and why. Are you…” He looked at an old picture, when Mom had still been alive; he couldn’t even bring himself to ask. “You know her because of Lisa. Probably better than I’d like to admit. So yes, I hold Everywhere to a higher standard. Because I can see her twisting you, turning you away from the daughter your mom raised. Making you forget everything we’ve taught you about decency, goodness. Maybe you think she’s a friend. Maybe she’s giving you a taste of power. A powerful… position… in her ranks. I can’t help but remember… You know… Your teachers recommended that you skip a year. Your mom wanted it, I was the one who stopped it. Because I wanted you to stay close to Emma. Taylor kiddo, everything that happened to you was my fault. And Everywhere, she’s a thousand times worse for you than Emma ever was. I’m not ignoring you ever again, Taylor.”

“I…” The words stuck in my mouth. He wanted me to deny it. Just deny it; I had to deny it.

“That’s why we have to move,” he said, still afraid to even look at me. “She’s taking you from me. I… I want my daughter back.”

“I wish I could give her back to you,” I said, as I felt something precious falling away at last. “I wish I could be the daughter you and mom raised. I wish I could move out of the city and pretend for you. But the part of me that you loved died in that locker. I know how to save Brockton Bay and I’ve got the power to do it. It’s my duty. My purpose. My struggle.”

I stamped the table in front of me twice, replacing the stamps in both dumps, and deactivated both. Made my power reliable, made myself dangerous. I was sick of putting off what everyone knew needed to be done. I wanted to go kill something.

“Taylor,” said Dad shakily. “Do you understand what you’re saying?”

“Do you?”

This wasn’t the man my mother had fallen in love with. This wasn’t the man who’d raised me. I looked at him and saw a stranger. Somewhere along the line, he’d lost his will to fight. Surrendered. Groveled to the bullies who’d taken over the system and rationalized it away as justice. Everywhere I looked, I saw good people who’d given up, people who’d have left me in that locker because they were too scared to do what they knew was right.

I was going to save the world. And nobody, not even Dad, could stop me. Before I left my home for the last time I stopped by our trash can, and tore a long thin strip from the garbage bag. 

“I’ll make the ferries run again,” I said.

Halfway to the Undersiders headquarters I put on Everywhere’s mask. 

“Tattletale,” I said, a part of me almost giddy. “The skeletons in Medhall’s closet. What are they?”

“Nothing big enough to counter the good we’re doing,” said Tattletale. “We could save millions. Maybe billions. And if you know you’re going to feel obligated to throw it all away.”

“Let me be more direct then,” I said. “Is Max Anders Kaiser?”

Tattletale deflated. “... Yeah…”

I wasn’t surprised. There was plenty of evidence. How Kaiser had spoken to me, how he’d known Tattletale’s secret identity. But more than that, a part of me had always known that Medhall’s offer had been too good to be true. People in power didn’t give a shit about those beneath them. I’d offered them billions and billions, I’d offered them the world, and all of them had spat in my face. Only the nazis had given me a chance, and that had only been to try to escape justice using our joint operation as a meat shield.

“Do we really want to go to war with the Empire?” Asked Tattletale. “They’ve stopped most of their violence and they’ve shown a willingness to work with us. If we take down their capes, we still have all the racists making up the rank and file. Lung and Bakuda ruled by fear, but the Empire has true believers. We won’t just be able to absorb them like we did with the ABB. Are we going to kill them all or re-educate them? How? And what about the power vacuum? Another gang will just fill the vacuum, and they may be a lot worse.”

It was so fucking easy to rationalize away cowardice. With Soma unleashed, I’d never need to beg the nazis, the politicians, or the fucking banks for money ever again. We had more than enough resources to create a shell company of our own. As for the rank and file, we’d have to sift through who was redeemable and dispose of those who weren’t, much like we had with the ABB. It would be ugly, mistakes were possible, but letting bullies off the hook just made life shit for the people trying to do the right thing.

“Tonight we plan,” I said. “Tomorrow we end an Empire.”

“I thought you’d never say it,” said Panacea. “Let’s go kill some nazis.”

ooOoo

“Appearances, conversations, even past actions can be deceiving. You want to see who someone really is? There’s only one way. Test them. Their character, their beliefs will only be revealed when placed under pressure.”

“I…” said the girl, glancing at her uncle on the floor. “I won’t do what you want. I won’t play your games. I’ll… I’ll…”

“Now, now,” said the man casually, despite the situation. “No need to be afraid. I’m not the monster people make me out to be. Truthfully I’m misunderstood. Most say that I hate humanity, an absurd lie based on their own ignorance. The truth is I love humanity far more than any of my critics. My life’s purpose is to help people achieve self-actualization and provide them with an environment where they can truly be themselves. That’s my superpower, transforming people into the best version of themselves.”

The girl felt a pressure against her neck.

“Ultimately, I came here as a favor to a friend who believes in you dearly. I want to help you live up to your potential. To do that, you must discover the answer to the only question which truly matters. Underneath it all, underneath the mask, just who are you?”

ooOoo

Either the Empire or the Undersiders would fall tonight. I hadn’t replaced the stamp in the Protectorate- I still needed it for Coil- but instead refined the method I’d used when I’d fought Brockton Bay’s pathetic PRT with an RC car. It was all well and good to stick my opponents with capsaicin coated needles, but in my weeks of lovey-dovey pacifist bullshit, I’d researched ways to improve my methods. In castor beans there was a highly deadly organic compound called ricin. It was estimated that a lethal oral dose would correspond to one milligram per kilogram of human body mass. By those calculations, I’d need about 136 milligrams to take down a 300 pound man. But of course it could work faster if injected directly. At first I’d considered filling up needles, but then I’d realized I could come up with something more practical if I utilized Panacea. She’d refined and created stingers, each filled with one gram of ricin, that upon forceful penetration of the skin, would find and inject the toxin into the nearest blood source. It would take two minutes to kill upon injection into a muscle, and would be fatal within seconds if I could get the stinger anywhere close to an artery. 

None of my research had been wasted, Regent had pointed out that I could use the less deadly compounds I’d wasted time researching to paralyze rather than kill, using the same method of stinger injection. Not only would it protect us from the Protectorate’s holier-than-thou interfering, paralysis would allow Panacea and Regent to capture enemies and turn their powers onto our side. That would probably be necessary.

Mundane as it was, gunfire would be our biggest problem. Without a portal shield, I didn’t have any way to deflect their bullets. Panacea had turned the ABB members we’d purged into body armor, but they would only protect us from oblique hits, and Tattletale and Grue were so coddled that they’d refused to wear them despite the obvious strategic advantages. Sure they were uncomfortable, even through the full body lycra suit, I could feel the flesh slithering around me like a mass of earthworms, but functionality had to take priority over comfort and style. In any event, nothing could protect us against a direct strike from a bullet.

Well, maybe a wall of steel. Who could make steel again? Oh right, Kaiser. Such a shame that our enemies had the powers we needed to win the fight. If only there was some way we could gain access to their powers… If only we had a master.

We had two.

So the strategy was simple. Walk straight into Medhall headquarters saying we had another idea. Gain audience with Max Anders, have Tattletale signal which capes were in the room, and then strike. He’d have guards, so I’d have to take care of their guns first. Teleport them into the vents of the Protectorate as quietly as I could. Then I’d paralyze Kaiser, and attack Othala. If she weren’t present, I would attack based on which capes present posed the most immediate risk. That meant Stormtiger would be a target before Hookwolf, as his attacks could be lethal faster. In order, I’d attack: Stormtiger, Night, Hookwolf, Krieg, Fenja, Menja, Victor, Fog, Alabaster, Cricket, and finally Rune.

Funny thing was that the only thing that separated Medhall’s skyscraper from those surrounding it was a symbol above the glass entrance doors, a black crown against a red and yellow background. I probably should have seen Max Anders for the megalomaniac nazi fuck that he was. I’d even talked with him personally. One-on-one. 

See, that gave me some insight into him. I didn’t think he was actually a racist, nor that he was especially prone to violence. No, he just wanted money and power, and didn’t give a shit who he hurt to get it. He was worse than the Principal Blackwells and Alan Barnes of the world, but only due to circumstance and opportunity. Afterall, they’d been just as willing as he had to throw their morals into the toilet as soon as it became inconvenient for them.

Fuck them all, but fuck Kaiser first.

I threw open the doors to Medhall, and stalked forward confidently, my crew of Undersiders behind me. Strangely, we weren’t stopped by security, nor even by a receptionist. The building was empty.

Bitch’s dogs whined, and refused to enter.

“Kaiser should be here,” said Tattletale. “Or at least somebody… I don’t know what’s going on and neither do my powers.”

“I don’t like it,” said Grue. “This feels like a trap. We can always try again tomorrow.”

“If my pack is out, I’m out,” said Bitch, abandoning us.

I frowned. A camera stared down at us from the end of the hall. The lights started to flicker, strobing until they reached the elevator. An invitation.

“Fuck this,” said Bitch. “I ain’t going any further.”

“Are your powers telling you this is a trap?” I asked.

“My powers aren’t telling me anything,” said Tattletale. “But I think this is a trap. Grue is right, they’ve got more firepower, and if they know we’re coming we’re cooked.”

So run away then? Try again tomorrow?

No. Fuck that. I wasn’t taking a single step back. If I could stand up to my Dad I could obviously stand up to Kaiser. I walked into the elevator. It stayed open until we were all inside, and accelerated upwards without prompting.

Someone was watching us race to the heart of the Empire. I didn’t care.

When the elevator opened the first thing that hit me was the smell. Iron, shit, and ammonia.

Grue threw up his lunch next to me. Unlike the base floor, the penthouse had plenty of people, although they were inside out. Like paper snowflake decorations in an elementary school, fleshy swastikas hacked from various bodies hung from the ceiling, suspended by intestines instead of strings.

It appeared the mystery of the disappearing Empire had been solved.

“My power’s not working! My power’s not fucking working!” Tattletale hammered the first floor button. “Ohhh fuuucckkkk… Ohhhh fuckkk… Oh my fucking god.”

“Hey!” Said a voice, emanating from the building’s PA system. “Don’t swear!”

Grue covered us in a shell of darkness, and Panacea started to sob. She clutched onto my arm and hid behind me.

Well… If I survived this, I was gonna fucking kill those assholes from TIME. It did occur to me that this may have been exactly what Dad had been so afraid of. There was always a bigger fish. If I made violence and killing the path to power, then wouldn’t that just attract those who were best at killing?

Maybe he’d been right, but so what?

I just had to win and everything would be fine. I just had to win. I just had to fucking win. Afterall, they’d only defeated the Triumivirate- what, three times? And maybe that was before they’d gotten their strongest member, but… Um…

Jesus Christ what I had gotten myself into?

I took a breath. Then another. And another. Just another moment, just another moment. They were just capes, they were just capes, I’d fought… I’d fought psychos before… I’d fought psychos before.

I had been given powers to take down bullies.

I had given my powers for this moment. Now. Kill them, and I’d be a hero forever.

Just win. Just win. Just win.

Somehow…

I stepped out of Grue’s darkness, and pushed aside the bleeding corpses in my way. Bleeding? Didn’t that mean that they were still…

One breath. Then another. 

One step. Then another. And another.

Regent was the first to follow, but the rest weren’t far behind. I sensed a figure in the distance. A trap? Probably. I tagged him in the neck with one of Panacea’s stings. Predictably, nothing happened. The figure plucked it out idly, and held it out in front of him. My greatest weapon had been neutralized. If I were to rate how screwed I was on a scale of one to ten I’d put the situation at maybe thirty, although that was probably pretty optimistic.

No. Can’t think like that. Even if he was the most infamous one on the planet, even if his past victims included the Triumvirate at the height of their powers, he was just another bully. Just another bully, Tay, just another bully. If I didn’t fight here, what the fuck had been the point of anything I’d done?

“See,” came the same bubbly voice from before, her voice echoing through the building’s PA system. “Isn’t this ever so fascinating? It’s like something Uncle Breed would have come up with! I told you Amelia would be a great addition!”

Shooting him probably wouldn’t work. Couldn’t really hurt either, could it?

I teleported Lisa’s handgun to PRT headquarters, then back in my hand, and unloaded the clip. The figure didn’t so much as flinch. Well… It had been worth a shot.

“Do you like our work Everywhere?” Asked the dark-haired man, mocking me with a smile. He put a bloody burlap sack down on a large chair, at the head of the table. A tall naked woman with black and white stripes stood by his side. She was invisible to my stamp sense. “I exposed so many of them, but not the one you came here for. I wouldn’t desecrate the rest of them with his presence. He was so hollow, nothing more than a mask. The racism, the power, the confidence- all lies- even his name was hollow. He was no Ceasar. If he were genuine, he would know that there can only ever be one king.”

I walked to the Empire’s throne. Opened up the sack. Max Anders’ head rolled right out.

“Like you do,” said the man, twirling a knife. “Who are you? A king? A victim? A bully? A hero? A villain? A monster? Perhaps all those things, but I know what you’re not. Me. People just see the superficial butchering, but they don’t see that we hold fundamentally incompatible beliefs. You see humanity for what it is and seek to reject it. I see humanity for what it is and seek to embrace it.”

I teleported a few more stings into his neck as he walked to me. Past me. Of course. He wanted Panacea. Perhaps the most powerful cape in the world. Only a few could make a legitimate claim for that title. 

And two were in the room. One was Panacea. The other had joined the Slaughterhouse after butchering a squad of thirty capes that had joined together to stop her.

The Protectorate’s greatest failure, Glaistig Uaine, watched us impassively, two newly claimed ghosts above her shoulders. 

“But the articles weren’t exactly wrong,” said the man. “I will need a successor eventually. Someone to carry on my legacy. Someone just as interested in humanity as I am. Someone who tears off the masks so many like to wear, exposing their true self for all to see. Someone. Truly. Dangerous .”

He walked right past Panacea, and finally stopped in front of the person he’d come for.

“Sarah Livsey,” said Jack Slash, gently pushing on her domino mask with the tip of his knife. “You’re going to end the world for me.”

Chapter Text

A/N: Thanks to Two Pence for betareading this chapter and pointing out some of the flaws in the original draft. I also want to make a note that Broadcast works differently in this fic. JS can be beaten by another parahuman, but in return he gets a different secondary effect that is almost as broken. I’m not entirely satisfied with this one, but I feel like it’s better to just release it and move on.

ooOoo

“Underneath it all, underneath the mask, just who are you?” Asked Jack Slash. A young girl with blonde pigtails carted out Uncle Neil in a computer chair. Every muscle limp, expression slack-jawed, but his eyes were alert. Paralyzed but able to think. Like Mom had been. That night. “Victoria Pelham, by the invitation of an old friend, you have been nominated into my Slaughterhouse.”

Crystal and Eric were kneeling by the oven. A girl wearing a cloak of glittering green and black had a hand on both their shoulders. Glaistig Uaine. Eidolon’s equal. She could kill with a touch. Maybe against Bonesaw, maybe against Jack Slash there was a chance. But Glaistig Uaine was as far above her as she was above the skinheads she routinely roughed up. She couldn’t fight them. She couldn’t win.

She had to negotiate. Stall for time. They were in the Protectorate Headquarters. Eventually another cape would come. Another cape had to come. And then maybe…

“To be accepted you must pass a series of tests,” said Jack Slash, gently caressing the edge of his knife with a scarred ring finger. “One from each member. For my test, I want you to make a simple choice. Option one: kill your father. Do this, and my Faerie Queen allows your siblings to go free. No tricks, for the duration of our stay, I will personally guarantee their safety. Option two: do nothing, and allow my Faerie Queen to collect your sweet siblings. So Victoria Pelham, just who are you? A hero? A villain?”

His hand left his knife, and he met her glare with a smile. “Or a coward?”

A coward? Maybe. Fear made her tremble. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t beat them. Had to stall, and hope and pray that someone just…

Eidolon wasn’t walking through that door.

She didn’t know how to handle it. Hopelessness. Weakness. She couldn’t force her way out of this one. Had to play by their rules. Had to make a choice. The hard choice. And there was really only one option. Only one option. No choice at all. Victoria Dallon steeled herself.

She looked into her Uncle’s eyes. No fear, no anger, only acceptance, love. Kill me, not my children.

“Who am I?” Glory Girl raised her fist, as her fear slid off her, as her path forward became clear. “I’m a fucking superhero!”

And that meant doing the right thing. Even when it was hard. Even when the situation was hopeless. Even when it seemed stupid. That’s why Mom and Dad had taken off their masks, and she was damn proud of them! She was going to save everyone! That was her truth!

She hurdled at Glaistig Uaine with all the speed she could muster.

She was a hero! She was Glory Girl! She was a fucking hero!

A shadow jumped out of Glaistig Uaine’s cloak. A child. A private school uniform. Neatly parted hair. Flickering monochrome. Right in front of her. Ready for her. She tried to stop. Turn. Couldn’t. Fuck.

She felt a sharp pressure on her neck, clotheslining her like a trip wire, making her tumble. A slash through her cheeks slowed her, and she face planted into concrete, skittered helplessly to Uaine’s feet. Cheeks ripped open, half of her face grated off by concrete. Pain. Opened eyes. Red puddle. Expanding.

Had she somehow done it? Gotten Uaine? No, the blood was her own. Hurt so much! Fight through it. Had to fight. Get on her feet. Be a hero. Beat the bad guys. Couldn’t feel her legs, only pain. Just pain. It hurt! Had to beat them, but it hurt so much. Just let it end. Let her rest. No. No, not yet. She flopped. Still couldn’t stand. Couldn’t make legs work. Gleeful laughter echoed through the room.

“Hell of an answer!” Said Jack Slash. “I get it now! What my Siberian saw in you! An animal. A beast of instinct, incapable of even basic reasoning. Victoria Pelham, you have passed your first test.”

Two thuds pierced the room like a judge’s gavel. Neil and Crystal lay on the ground, eyes dull and unseeing. Bodies blurry. Eyes stung. Hazy shadows rose from their corpses.

Why? Why was this happening? Her mom, her dad, her boyfriend, her aunt, her cousins. Everyone she loved was dying. Tears and blood grew in a pool next to her. The pain was starting to fade though. Her thoughts grew simple, unfocused. Coldness, darkness. She wouldn’t have to suffer much longer. “Why?”

Fresh pain entered her, shocked things back into focus, as Jack Slash opened up her back with his knife.

“So I could cut through the facade, the bullshit, and reveal the human underneath,” said Jack Slash, idly cutting off her right thumb. “The consequences of your actions are unimportant, what matters is that you are the one dictating terms. That is your truth Victoria, who you truly are. The only question is whether you have the courage to accept it.”

She heard a pair of retreating footsteps. A needle stabbed into her neck, and her powers receded. She could almost feel her forcefields, but they were just barely beyond her, just barely out of reach. Her muscles relaxed, and she lost control of them as well.

“Oh isn’t this exciting,” said Bonesaw, the whine of an electric saw filling the room. “You, me, and Amelia are all gonna be like sisters! I’m going to help you out all I can! Don’t worry, I’m gonna fix you up, make you even better! Sis, I promise you’re gonna be my most beautiful piece of art yet!”

If Victoria had the strength to open her mouth, she would have been screaming.

ooOoo

“Sarah Livsey,” said Jack Slash, gently pushing on Tattletale’s domino mask with the tip of his knife. “You’re going to end the world for me.”

How? Why Tattletale? Expose a secret, a mask. What lie could be so big it could end the world? The Endbringers? The Triumvirate? The Protectorate? Or the very nature of capes themselves- the fact that we seemed to have an instinct to use our powers for violence? Questions. Speculation. Counter strategies. All assigned probabilities. Ordered.

The apocalypse comforted me… Pushed back my fear. When Jack Slash said he was going to end the world, I believed him. Short of the Endbringers, the Slaughterhouse were the most feared parahumans on the planet. They had taken on the Triumvirate and won. Countless heroes and villains had come against them and fallen at their feet. Despite everything, I felt the edges of my mouth tilt upwards uncomfortably. 

Jack and his band of unrepentant serial killers had made the mistake of coming to Brockton Bay. I’d made a promise when I’d melted Bakuda afterall. Nobody would respect me if I didn’t follow through on my threats.

I was going to kill them.

Panacea shivered by the nazi carcasses. Looked ready to bolt. I met her eyes, and slid my fingers against my throat. If she was stupid enough to show her back to Jack Slash, he’d kill her, and I needed my healer intact. It seemed to reassure Panacea a little.

“Noelle deserves to rest,” said Tattletale, looking past Jack right at Glaistig Uaine. “Kill her if you can. But don’t bring her back.”

“Now, now, that’s unbecoming of my successor,” said Jack lightly, wagging his knife back and forth. “We’re the team of miracles! Tell you what. Let’s make it a game. I’ll loan you my Bonesaw and Faerie Queen for the duration of your splendid operation. With Miss Laviere here, you’ll have access to all the shards you’ll need to perform your miracle. Find a way to make the Shattered Division whole, and I’ll leave without a fight. No games, no tricks, I’ll leave Brockton Bay without harming another soul. However. If you fail, our favorite bulimic gets to feast on Amelia.”

The path to victory was obvious. Just agree. It would give us time and it would split up Uaine and Bonesaw from the rest of the Slaughterhouse. The odds tilted in our favor if we could keep Glaistig Uaine and the Siberian apart, and focus all our forces on crushing one of them.

“And no cheating,” said a child-like voice from the PA System. “A game is no fun if you don’t play fair. Mannequin will turn your water supply into a bunch of different toxic gasses that’ll kill most of the people in the city. Thousands would die.”

“Hundreds of thousands, don’t sell Mannequin short,” said Jack glibly. “So if you were to say, attack my Faerie Queen, or simply kill the Shattered Division, that would be a violation of our agreement. In retaliation, we would release the gas across Brockton Bay. Hundreds of thousands would perish. So my dear sweet Negotiator, do you agree to our conditions?”

He was just another Bakuda. Hiding behind the lives of the innocent. But the path remained clear: Agree, betray, and eat the consequences. If Bonesaw could make plagues of that magnitude, humanity wouldn’t be safe unless she was eliminated. Of course, it would do little good if Glaistig Uaine could just resurrect her, so Uaine would need to be dealt with first. Once those two were dealt with, we’d find a way to deal with the plague. What we couldn’t do was allow Jack to dictate terms. In the end, he was just another bully. Give an inch, and he’d take a mile.

“... No,” said Tattletale weakly. “No.”

Not what I’d have done but a decision I could live with. At least she wasn’t playing his game.

“So there’s no hope,” said Jack, delicately caressing the edge of his knife. “Disappointing. You should reconsider. Not just for yourself, my Slaughterhouse needs restrictions and rules to guide us to our best work.”

“The worst you can do is kill us,” said Tattletale. “I’m not helping you end the world.”

“It’s possible you could win,” said Jack, wearing a familiar expression. I’d seen it on Emma, whenever she knew she had me. He was toying with us. Trapping us. Every word sinking us deeper. “I’m giving you a chance. A game is boring if you know you’re going to win. Heal Noelle, and everyone’s happy. No tricks. I leave. My team leaves. We don’t hurt anyone from Brockton Bay ever again. All you have to do is undo the work of the Simurgh, and save an innocent girl.”

 “It’s impossible,” said Tattletale. “She’s broken in a way that can’t be fixed, and an army of evil Panaceas could end the world. I’m not gonna be a part of that.”

“Alright, but I did warn you.” Jack smirked. “My dear Bonesaw. Did you get all that?”

“Can’t be fixed, can’t be fixed, can’t be fixed,” looped Tattletale’s voice over the PA system. They’d bugged the place. Recorded the entire conversation. So he’d wanted something to enrage Noelle? Was she sick? A Case 53? Some kind of Trump? A potential Nilbog, or something even worse? Whatever the specifics, Jack and Tattletale had both agreed that she’d be a centerpiece in ending the world. It didn’t seem to fit, seemed too small, but the path forward was clear. Whatever Jack wanted- deny him.

I put a stinger through the nearest speaker. Predictably, the recording kept right on playing.

Laserdream’s ghost shot a crimson beam through the window, and flew out of the opening carrying Glaistig Uaine. Shielder’s ghost picked up Jack, and followed after his sister’s killer.

I tried to put some stingers in the ghost, but they bounced off crimson force fields.

“And Sarah,” yelled Jack, reaching into his second burlap sack. “The rules of your first test are simple. Survive! She’ll give you two mulligans!”

The Siberian pounced on her, mauled her. Grue tried to tackle. The Siberian flicked him aside. He sailed into a wall. Crunched into it as the Siberian chewed through one of Tattletale’s fingers. That was one. We got two more.

I shot stingers into the Siberian’s eyes. They bounced off harmlessly. 

“That’s not gonna work,” said Bonesaw through the PA System. “But don’t give up! Keep on trying! There's a way out of this, you just have to find it! I believe in you!”

Was Siberian’s whole body invulnerable? Or just the outside? As much as it was gonna suck for Tattletale, our best bet was to let her get captured again, and send a stinger down the Siberian’s throat while she was munching on another one of Tattletale’s fingers. And the Siberian was invisible to my stamp sense, so I’d have to rely on my accuracy.

No. Bad plan. Better plan would be to teleport the stinger onto Tattletale’s finger right before the Siberian bit down. 

The Siberian slid off Tattletale, and made a shooing motion. Tattletale stumbled to her feet and ran, and Grue covered the Siberian in a bubble of darkness. Didn’t work. The Siberian leapt at Grue, shattering the concrete underneath her. Grue dove out of the way, but the Siberian reached out a claw, and sliced through his forearm with a fingernail. She went right through the concrete wall, sending chunks of concrete flying.

“She did that on purpose,” said Tattletale, her hand already bandaged with lavender fabric. “She could’ve made it invincible and bounced off it, but she wants you to run. She enjoys the chase.”

“Why are you still here?” Regent asked.

“Your powers working on her?” I asked him.

“No,” said Regent. “Yours?”

“Nope.”

“Well fuck,” said Regent.

Four exits. Elevator down the hall? We’d be dead if we trapped ourselves in a metal box, but we could force it open and escape through the shaft.  Stairs? Bad. Too slow. The Siberian could outrun us. Out the window like Jack? Not unless one of us sprouted wings. The hole the Siberian had opened in the floor? Might be useful for losing her, but it was a big drop.

“Guys,” said Grue, his arm bloody and limp at his side. “Run.”

Panacea was already sprinting. Towards a dead end. I teleported the broad side of a stinger into her neck to get her moving in the right direction.

“Elevator,” I said. “Down the shaft.”

We sprinted down the hall, forcing our way through the bloody husks of the Empire.

The Siberian burst out from the floor, right in front of us. She grabbed me. Grip like iron. Slick flesh slid across my forearm. Detached. I pulled away, as the Siberian threw Panacea’s meat shield into her mouth. I teleported two ricin filled stingers into the back of her throat. Nothing. Ineffective.

“She’s fully invulnerable,” said Tattletale. “Only all-or-nothing attacks can hurt her.”

She told me that now?

Grue was more useful. Covered us in darkness, and we sprinted away. In the opposite direction we needed to go. Into a deadend. We’d be trapped when we got there. Didn’t seem relevant. It bought us a few more seconds. Just a few more. Maybe…

The Siberian bounded through the darkness, and tackled Regent. His flesh shield wriggled in her grasp, but couldn’t break him free. She bit at his neck, but a tentacle slung her into a wall, and curled around her. Then another, and another, wriggling muscles and oozing blood. Panacea’s hand was wrist deep in the nazi carcasses, manipulating them, transforming them.

“OH! MY! GOSH!” Said Bonesaw. “Good golly! What a beautiful move! That’s why you’re the best nomination ever, Amelia! We are gonna have so much fun together!”

Hadn’t realized Panacea’s power could be so sudden. Did the tentacles count as contact? If they did, Panacea could kill anyone she made contact with as long as she held on long enough. She was possibly the strongest striker in the entire world. If anyone could kill the Siberian it was her, right now… Um…

“Panacea,” I said. “Kill her.”

“Can’t,” grunted Panacea.

The Siberian was invisible to Panacea's power too? What the hell was she?

“A hologram maybe,” said Tattletale, rubbing her chin, as the Siberian thrashed, and ripped through flesh like it was wet newspaper. “A ghost? She's kind of like Glaistig Uaine’s shadows, but not. Amy dear, be a pal and stop trying to fuck Siberian with hentai tentacles. Turn them into a high viscosity liquid and get her trapped in muck.”

“Oh my god, do you ever shut up?” Snapped Panacea. She wrapped the Siberian in more tentacles, but she was running out of bodies to work with. We needed to pivot.

I teleported Regent’s taser into my hands. Shot it at the Siberian. Maybe she was weak to electricity? No. Nothing. Right, completely invulnerable. Stupid.

“Gosh darn it,” said Bonesaw. “What the heck was that, Everywhere? That was really, really not very smart! You guys can do so much better! There are at least two ways you can get out of the situation, if you’d just take a deep breath, count to three, and think really, really, hard!”

“Would you be so kind as to share them?” Asked Regent. “Please, I’ll give you some candy. Any kind you like.”

“Candy?” Asked Bonesaw hopefully. She almost sounded tempted for a second. “No, no. Breaking the rules is bad!”

“Well shit,” said Regent. “Worth a shot.”

“Hey, no swearing!”

“Panacea,” I said. “Cover us in corpses. Create some clones. Then we all break for the elevator.”

Panacea nodded. What remained of the swastika-shaped carcasses writhed together into a fleshy orb, flattened against the ground like a puddle, and tendrils wrapped around us. Couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. But I could sense. More tendrils emerged from the creature, shaped like caricatures of a person. Decoys. Clones. We rushed forward, down the hall. Couldn’t sense the Siberian, but I could sense everything else. The tentacles entrapping her were shredded, she was free.

One of the tendrils was ripped off the main body, torn in half, but it was just a decoy. The Siberian ripped through three more. All empty. We made it past her. To the elevator shaft.

The flesh shields receded. I tried to force the elevator doors open. Couldn’t. Tried again. Still couldn’t. Grue tried, failed. Not even Panacea’s tentacles could pry them open.

The Siberian leisurely advanced, a broad smile on her face.

“Oh heck,” said Bonesaw. “That was so cool! I really, really wish I could reward you for that. But Jack told me not to let you guys leave that way, I’m really sorry!”

Grue covered us in darkness as the Siberian leapt. I used my stamp sense to sprint down the hallway. Pointless. I didn’t have a plan. Needed more time. There had to be a path, unless Bonesaw was just trying to give us false hope. Possible, but I doubted it. There was a way out. If Jack wanted to kill us, he’d have stayed to gloat. He wanted us to escape. The second most likely option was that he wanted us to sell out Tattletale. Sacrifice her to the Siberian. Prove that I was no better than the Principal Blackwells, the Mayor Christeners of the world. When a situation got tough, I’d sell out those underneath me to save my own skin. That I wouldn’t fight when the fighting was hard.

No.

There was something I was missing. I checked my stamp in the Protectorate. All I had for offense was stingers. If the lethal ones hadn’t worked, the paralysis ones wouldn’t either. The Siberian seemed unbeatable, insurmountable. She seemed more like a force of nature than a cape I could fight. She’d killed Hero, taken Alexandria’s eye, and shattered the golden age of the Triumvirate. She held as much responsibility for the formation of the Protectorate as the Simurgh taking control of the nuclear launch codes. Couldn't allow her reputation to defeat us though. If she could beat the Triumvirate, we could beat her. What were her weaknesses? She couldn’t fly. The hole in the window? Maybe.

Inspiration flashed. Something Regent had said earlier- he’d offered Bonesaw candy. Flippant. Almost a joke. She’d been tempted. For all that she was a murderous psychopath, she was still a child. Where was I going with this? Maybe we could tempt the Siberian with nazi corpses, the way a mailman might try to lose a dog with treats? Stupid. It was stupid- but closer.

I grabbed Panacea, and hauled her kicking and screaming back to Tattletale.

The Siberian’s lips were coated in blood, munching on Tattletale’s thumb in small little bites, eating it right off her hand. She rolled off Tattletale, allowed us to collect her, and gave us a shooing motion with a black and white hand. Toying with her. Having fun. She didn’t make any move to chase us, just watched us out of the corner of her eye as she licked blood off herself.

“Heal her fingers,” I said to Panacea. “Bring them back.”

Panacea got to work, pale and trembling. Scared and terrified. She really needed to get over her nerves.

“Grue,” I said. “Your darkness. Make bubbles. Cover us in some, leave some empty. Have her chase shadow clones.” 

Grue’s darkness gave us cover.

I continued. “Panacea, once you’re done with Tattletale, stretch out the rest of the nazi’s flesh into a thin membrane. We’re going to jump out the window and use it as a parachute.”

“I can do that,” Panacea squeaked, little nubs growing from Tattletale’s hand. “But it’ll take me about ten minutes.”

“Considering she just took us out twice in five minutes,” said Regent. “Bonesaw, what if I offered you ten pieces of candy? Candy for life?”

“I’ve had just about enough of you,” said Bonesaw. “Cheating is bad! The answer is no, and if you try to turn me naughty again I’m going to have Siberian eat you.”

“Nazi parachute it is,” said Regent. “I say we go hide in a corner. Grue’s good for this job, and I have a feeling they’re going to spare Panacea, but the two of us are dead weight.”

He was right. It would be tempting to think this was some game Jack was playing against me. It wasn’t. I’d had enough experience with bullies to recognize it: Tattletale was his target, not me. He didn’t give a shit if I sacrificed my morals or not. If I just offered Tattletale to the Siberian she’d kill us as soon as she was through with Tattletale.

So yes, somehow the parachute idea really was the best we could come up with.

“It’s not the answer we’re looking for,” said Bonesaw. “But hide-and-seek is really fun! Maybe it’ll even work. You’ve got big sis on your side so anything is possible! I’m going to reward you for making things so fun. Siberian, turn around! No peeking until I count to thirty. One. Two. Three…”

We stood on the conference desk, pushed open one of the rectangular tiles and crawled on top of the false ceiling. Grue left several darkness body doubles below, inside closets, under desks, behind doors- locations a child might hide, all to give us precious seconds.

Tattletale levered one of the tiles open so she could peek at what was happening below, scout the enemy for potential weaknesses. I did the same.

I could almost hear Regent and Panacea’s ‘seriously’ behind Grue’s cloak of darkness, but we needed the information. We’d have to beat Siberian eventually.

Offensively, she was nothing special. A powerful brute to be sure, but it was her defense that made her a threat. Her invulnerability allowed her to ignore suppressive fire, so she could attack, attack, attack. Tattletale had said that only all-or-nothing attacks could hurt her. Could Clockblocker freeze her, or would she be as invisible to his powers as she was to mine? Why was she invisible? Couldn’t have been a forcefield or I’d be able to teleport her just like I’d been able to teleport Glory Girl. Something else then? And she was able to transfer her invincibility to something else, but it must have been a conscious decision as she’d been able to bite through Tattletale’s fingers just fine. Could we trick her somehow, into making herself vulnerable? No. Probably not. Why would she ever need to make herself vulnerable?

“That’s right,” said Bonesaw. “Over there, above the closet.”

The Siberian reduced it to sawdust in seconds. She scowled when her slashes passed right through Grue’s shadow double.

“Too bad, so sad,” said Bonesaw. “Don’t give up and try again!”

The Siberian glowered at the speaker.

“It’s your fault for listening to me,” sang Bonesaw gleefully. “Against the rules! Against the rules!”

The Siberian sniffed the air, and a spray of water from an overhead sprinkler drenched her.

“No cheating,” said Bonesaw. “Smelling them isn’t fair! It ruins the game!”

The Siberian leapt, and burst through the ceiling. Fuck. Scrambled to my feet. Just fell through the ceiling instead. Good enough. Sprinting again. Maybe if I jumped out the window, I could use my stingers as climbing hooks.

“Hey! HEY! Stop it, Siberian! You’re cheating, you’re cheating !” She’d tackled Tattletale through the ceiling, wrestled her to the ground.

I made my way to the two of them, tried to act natural, not too panicked. Sure enough, the Siberian bit off Tattletale’s index finger and rolled off her, let me collect her.

The Siberian couldn’t count. That’s why she’d been biting off Tattletale’s fingers. To keep track.

“Serves you right,” said Bonesaw. “Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater. I’m giving you guys one extra turn, because Siberian cheated on the last one. Now Siberian. Back in the corner. Amelia, I’m going to let you collect the rest of them, and then count to sixty. I’m giving you some extra time because somebody cheated last time.”

The Siberian slunk back into the corner and turned her back to us. I wasn’t going to argue. We’d be given a headstart, I’d make it matter. I peeled off a penny-sized chunk of Panacea’s armor, teleported it to PRT headquarters, and then onto the small of the Siberian’s back, the part that you could never scratch no matter how hard you tried. It latched on like it was designed to, and I could use the floating bit of flesh as a way of tracking her. It’d die in minutes, but that was all we needed.

Grue and my teammates dropped down through the ceiling, and I shepherded them to the stairs. Tattletale wrapped her fingers as we ran. She understood. Couldn’t afford to distract Panacea. Every second was precious. As we ran I pulled out fistfuls of hair, smeared  them in Tattletale’s blood, teleported them all over the battlefield. It would mask our scent. Hopefully.

The Siberian was on the move. Straight to the stairs. She didn’t run down them, she dove down through them. Catching up fast, we’d only made it down four flights, and the Siberian was plummeting like a stone. I pointed at Grue. He covered us in darkness, and we didn’t break stride. I took a risk, teleported a fire extinguisher from Coil’s office, and flung it haphazardly into a wall in the middle of the floor two above us. Not exactly subtle, but the PRT only had about a million cameras in their headquarters, so how likely was it that they’d notice one vanishing fire extinguisher anyway? It wasn’t like public enemy number one was a known teleporter or anything. Actually, with the Slaughterhouse around, they might actually overlook it. We’d have to contact Clockblocker, and hopefully have him replace the extinguisher before Coil noticed it was missing. Worth it. The Siberian flung after the extinguisher. She wasted precious seconds chasing it down, which gave us time to spill into the closest floor.

Grue covered us in a shell. “How much longer?”

“Five minutes,” said Panacea.

The Siberian dove back into the stairway. She exited three floors below us. I checked the stairway with my stampsense. Broken. Unusable. The Siberian had shattered them. Couldn’t climb back up and couldn’t climb back down. We were stuck on the level we were at. The Siberian was methodically destroying each floor below us, then hopping up to the next one. She was an experienced killer, even if she couldn’t be bothered to count to three.

“Parachute is good enough, create some tentacles,” I said. “Like you did when you grabbed the Siberian. Even if we’re falling fast, we can use them to mitigate some of the impact.”

“Five minutes,” grunted Panacea. “Tentacles won’t work. No more requests.”

“Create more darkness decoys,” I said to Grue. “Hide us in one.”

I’d done a better job masking our scent this time. Hopefully that would make the doubles more effective. We huddled next to a window. As soon as Panacea could, we were breaking it, and dipping the hell out of here.

The Siberian had finished destroying her level, and jumped to the one below us, and either she jumped back to the floor below or the piece of flesh I’d tagged her with had fallen off her. Couldn’t see her, couldn’t sense her directly, but I sure as hell could feel the building being torn apart.

“Shit,” said Grue. “She’s on our level. Still can’t sense us, but we need to go. Panacea, break the window with a tentacle and we take our chances with the parachute.”

Panacea flicked him off. “Not finished. Stop talking, and it’ll be done faster.”

“Break the fucking window,” said Grue, shaking her. “Fucking listen!”

“You’re not Everywhere.” Panacea shoved him off her. “So fuck off.”

We didn’t have time for this. “Follow Gr-”

A striped hand ripped her from him, sent her skittering halfway across the room. tearing our fleshy parachute. Had to get her back… Somehow. Repair it. Dive.

“Hey now,” said Bonesaw nervously, setting sprinklers on the striped woman as she advanced on Panacea. “Amelia is my nominee. Don’t touch her until I’ve had my turn.”

The Siberian grinned at the camera, and shook her head.

“...Please,” said Bonesaw.

Panacea wasn’t moving. Unconscious. Fuck… Fuck. Maybe we could pinch the parachute, 

The Siberian raised a clawed arm high. Fuck. I stamped a piece of my flesh shield and flung it at Panacea.

A dark streak tackled the Siberian through a wall. A rush of fury. Not my own. But the Siberian was quick to recover, her feet tearing into pavement, then making the concrete invincible and using her footholds as leverage. She stopped on a dime, crushing Victoria’s shields, and flung her through a pillar. Victoria tried to stumble to her feet, but failed pathetically. She was in pretty good shape considering she should’ve been killed on impact. Bonesaw had made her hardier, in addition to some other changes. Gone was the beautiful A-list cape with model good looks, now she had some scars. She looked like a humanoid spider, four extra arms grafted onto her back, her cheeks removed so her teeth were fully exposed like fangs.

“Thanks for the save,” I said stiffly. “I’m still not giving Panacea back.”

“For the love of god, Tay-”

“It’s fine,” said Victoria, somehow able to talk despite her lack of cheeks. “Still hate you too, but we’ve got bigger problems. Truce?”

“Truce,” said Tattletale, Regent, and Grue before I could say anything. Making the decision for me. Fucking bullshit.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Truce.”

I’d have agreed even without the rest of my team strongarming me into it. I knew Vicky. She was the closest thing I had to a friend at Winslow. She was a tad naive, just as spoiled as Tattletale had always claimed, but if any ‘hero’ was capable of good it was her. But working together with a ‘hero’ still felt like losing.

“Get Ames over here,” said Victoria. “Might not be able to walk, but I can fly us out.”

“Sorry sis, but I can’t allow that,” said Bonesaw. “Jack told me to turn off your powers if you tried to fly them out.”

And there it was. This whole test had been a farce. An attempt to get me to do what he wanted, and think it was my idea. But after going to Mrs Knott I’d realized that it was never a good idea to go to a teacher.

There was a convergence around my stamp in the Protectorate. A gathering of capes. Among them was a figure I recognized, the only cape I’d ever idolized. Alexandria. Not a coincidence. A red flag.

See, whatever my grades might tell you, I’m not actually stupid. I could’ve teleported us to the Protectorate whenever I wanted. But… Something had stopped me. A suspicion.

What if that was exactly what Jack wanted?

It seemed stupid. Why not warn the Protectorate? Why not get help from Alexandria? Maybe even Eidolon? There was nothing concrete, but… It would be playing into Jack’s hands, I was sure of it. Teleporting into the Protectorate meant conceding in my war against them, in my war against Coil.

If I wanted to save the world, I had to destroy the Protectorate. They were a false promise, a false light, a false path. Join, call yourself a hero, feel good about yourself, fix nothing. The most damning thing about them wasn’t how they’d let Brockton Bay decay into a hellscape, it was how they dealt with the Simurgh. Just let her dictate terms. Give up without a fight. Pathetic. They’d never win.

No. I wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t let him beat me.

Bonesaw had said there were two ways Jack had designed for us to escape. One was teleporting to the Protectorate. The other was death. Both those meant losses. I’d find a third way. Beat him.

The Siberian closed in on us. I bunched up the parachute. Had to get out of here. Took a step to Panacea.

Regent stepped in front of me. What the hell was he doing?

“Regent,” I said. I raised my voice, stamped my lycra suit. “Regent!”

“Hey shitcrumb!” Regent hollered, stepping up to the Siberian. “Easy-”

I teleported him away before the dumbass got himself killed.

Fuck.

Fuck…

No going back now.

I teleported Vicky, Grue, and Tattletale to the Protectorate. I tore off a chunk of my flesh shield, stamped it, tossed it over the Siberian and next to Panacea. Teleported her out as well. Just me and the Slaughterhouse.

“Finally,” Bonesaw complained. “You really made me worry, you know that, Everywhere? If you’d just been good, big sis wouldn’t have been put in so much risk!”

“It’s Squirter” I said coldly, furious at myself, at them. Let them call me that stupid name, I’d make them fear it. “This isn’t over.”

And then I teleported away as well, running from the bully, my chances of ever saving the world vanishing at the same time I did.

Chapter Text

A/N: Big thanks to TwoPence for beta reading this chapter.

ooOoo

“It’s not like we joined because we were afraid of Everywhere. Truth is with Leet at my side, we could take her. Everywhere is ruthless, but she’s just a teleporter. Nothing special,” Uber said. Privately Flechette agreed. She’d seen the footage, and sure Everywhere was resourceful with her power, but… There were villains like that everywhere, and at least this one wasn’t obsessed with her. “We joined because we realized that what we were doing wasn't really changing the needle. To make our vision a reality we were gonna have to change some things up.”

“So what is your vision?” Asked Weld, sitting comfortably in one of the plastic chairs surrounding the conference table. “You guys are into arcades right?”

“Um, actually, we’re into video games,” said Leet, from the seat next to Uber. “Arcades are the best we’ve got in Bet, but the stuff they’ve got in Aleph blows what Bet’s got out of the water. Platformers like Mario, shooters like Halo, RPG’s like Final Fantasy and Skyrim, and of course the GOAT Grand Theft Auto. Beating up hookers- now that’s a damn game! That’s not even getting into the MMO’s like World of Warcraft and Starcraft 2 which require advanced telecommunication infrastructure that we'll never get because of that bitchass Simurgh. The best we’ve got is fucking Quake, but that’s only because our videogames suck ass.”

“Don’t we have Mario?” Asked Weld.

The disdain was clear in Uber and Leet’s laughter.

“‘Don’t we have Mario?’ he says,” said Uber, shaking his head.

“You can’t call what we’ve got true Mario,” said Leet. “No Mario 64, no Sunshine, no Galaxy one or two. Clearly our work went unheard if a normie like you doesn't even know that much.”

“That’s why we’ve changed tactics,” said Uber. “I guess you could say we were inspired by Everywhere, but we aren’t scared of her. If our universe’s video games are trash, just make one ourselves! We’re going to use our powers, and the PRT’s resources, to build the perfect video game. Then you’ll see!”

“Didn’t you join before Panacea partnered with Medhall?” Asked Rune.

Medhall? Weren’t they the largest corporation in the city? Flechette had heard about Everywhere acting as a glorified garbage man, but she hadn’t heard anything about the Undersiders partnering with Medhall. Was that even allowed?

“Shut up, you dumb bitch,” said Leet. 

“Well we joined because of Everywhere,” said Othala. She was filing her nails, and didn’t bother to look up. “At least Rune did. I only joined because they wouldn’t accept her without me, and I didn’t want my cousin involved in a war. Not thrilled to having a lying pussy as a teammate, but at least you’re better than the Chink or the freak.”

“Japanese,” said Flechette.

“Jap then,” said Othala. She blew some nail filings onto the table. “Even worse. Fucking mayor only let you in so he could win an election. Shortsighted, corrupt asshole- pretty soon we’re gonna be overrun by you yellow bastards.”

“I’m from Buffalo,” said Flechette.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Othala, getting to work on another nail. “Not that I’ve got anything against your kind in particular. Servile, obedient, and you can copy alright. We need workers too, someone to build our shit. But the world needs whites to create new stuff. Everywhere’s right that society is in decline, but she’s wrong about why. It’s not politics, it’s demographics. Simple statistics. If America were still a white christian nation, we’d have wiped out the Endbringers years ago. Would be better for you Japs as well- you’d still have a country, we’d have been able to save your yellow asses if we hadn’t let ourselves be contaminated with inferior blood and inferior cultures.”

“I’m from Buffalo,” said Flechette again. “I understand why racism appeals to idiot rednecks. Who doesn’t want to think they’re special? What I’ve always wondered is how you nazis can worship a bunch of losers. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Germany get their asses kicked?”

“That’s a misconception,” said Othala. “We only lost because our western cousins stabbed us in the back. Couldn't see the truth. The jews were able to manip-”

“We’ve all got our histories,” said Weld. “Different reasons for coming here. But Othala, you can’t talk like that. You’ve got to know that people are going to hate you for it. They’re also going to hate Rune by association. Are you okay with that?”

“I understand that the truth can be unpleasant,” said Othala. “But if white people keep letting inferior races run things we’ve got no chance in hell. Our fucking director is a goddamn nigg-”

“I’m not white,” said Alexandria. “Is that going to be a problem?” She’d refrained from speaking while the new Wards had introduced themselves, leaned against the door with her arms crossed, as much a part of the background as a woman of her looks and power could ever be. Flechette hadn't known a woman could be so beautiful, it was actually almost too much, she inspired more admiration than attraction, and intimidation more than admiration.

Othala took a step back. “Um.. No- um, of course this doesn’t apply to you. I’m mean, um, Latin Americans are descended from um… I mean, you’re Alexandria, so of course it doesn’t… I’m sorry.”

“You are here because we needed a healer,” said Alexandria. “Your power makes you useful. Your views are your own, but when you act as a member of the protectorate you will keep them to yourself.”

“Yes,” said Othala quickly. “Of course.”

“Weld,” said Alexandria. “I’m disappointed. You’ve been identified as a potential leader, and you allowed things to devolve into unproductive squabbling. Be better. Unite the room. Capes are vicious by nature, and Othala is far from the worst you’ll have to work with. Watch how Aegis does it.”

Flechette was beyond impressed by Alexandria. She’d never been around someone who could so effortlessly command a room. She was like a goddess descended from the heavens, but Flechette couldn’t shake off a niggling bit of suspicion.

Why was Alexandria even here? Officially it was to make sure that the new Wards were integrated smoothly, but that didn't pass the smell test. Flechette and Weld weren't important enough to require her presence. Maybe to deal with the Undersiders? Maybe… But it just seemed like there had to be something more.

The door to the conference room opened, and the old members of the Brockton Bay Wards came in to greet the new ones. For a few moments, they just stared at one another. 

“Some of you have been enemies in the past,” said Alexandria. “You may have even fought each other. Any issues you have with each other must be resolved now.”

One of the old members of the team glowered at her, dressed in a dark cloak and urban camouflage, she was just Flechette’s type. Lean, lithe, athletic long legs. She even had a crossbow. Probably Shadow Stalker then. It was a little strange that she’d brought a weapon to an introduction, but it was good to know they were both crossbow aficionados. Easy conversation, maybe Flechette could give her some tips. Lily blushed, fidgeted, tried to feign nonchalance. She didn’t touch her hair, too soon for things like that. As many times as she’d moved around as a child, introductions always made Flechette nervous. Even earlier, introducing herself to thieves and nazis, she’d wanted them to like her. She didn’t do well alone.

“Good, another girl. Even better, an experienced one,” said a cape with a bunch of clocks in his armor. Clockblocker. She remembered the name from the briefing. He offered her his hand, and held onto the handshake long enough to make her uncomfortable. She wanted to push him away, but she wanted to make a good impression even more. “Felchettio correct? The pleasure is all mine, the team can always make room for another hardened member.”

“Happy to finally be on a team with you,” said Flechette, smiling. “A girl’s always gotta have a couple Clockblockers in her life.”

The tension eased a bit. Heroes, villains, it was all in the past. They were on the same side now.

“Fine,” said Shadow Stalker. She had a fierce voice, and an obviously black one. “If none of you pussies are going to say it, I will. I wouldn’t be caught dead with these douchebag queefs. Any rep we’ve built is out the window if we’re seen with them. Throw me in jail if you want, I won’t work with them.”

Flechette smirked. Hey, somebody had to say it. Shadow Stalker was just her type.

“I can’t be seen with these virgin fucking nerds,” said Shadow Stalker, pointing at Uber and Leet.

“What?” Asked Flechette dumbly.

“Been there,” Clockblocker whispered. “Shadow Stalker’s hot as hell, but once she opens her mouth it kinda ruins the fantasy.”

“Don’t misinterpret,” said a muscular boy, floating next to them.That must have been Aegis. “Shadow Stalker despises the nazis just as much as you or I. But Othala can loan out powers, and Shadow Stalker will swallow the racism for some super strength. Personally I find that admirable. Setting aside our differences for the good of the team. Thanks for healing me, by the way.”

Othala opened her mouth, but glanced at Alexandria. She swallowed, and said, “You’re welcome.”

“We’ve all had differences,” said Aegis. “But we’ve also all had experience with Everywhere. We all know the truth. We can lose alone, or we can win together.”

“Now, that I can agree with,” said Othala. She put out a hand into the middle of the table. Aegis put his hand over hers.

“That’s why I joined,” said Rune, adding her hand to the middle. “Happy to finally be one of the good guys.”

“I’m in,” said Uber.

“Me too,” said Leet.

Weld, Clockblocker, Vista, and Kid Win added their hands to the pile. Flechette joined too, but she didn’t really see why they were all so scared of Everywhere. Teleporters were tricky, but she’d dealt with them before.

Vista glared at Shadow Stalker. “You’re not going to join?”

Shadow Stalker nodded at Alexandria. “If she joins, I’m in. If not, I’m out. We need another apex predator if we’re gonna take on Everywhere, otherwise we’re just prey lining up for the slaughter.”

“You’re always calling us pussies. You’re the pussy,” said Vista. “You’re all set to take out your insecurities on people weaker than you, but the second someone comes along that can punch back, you run like a little bitch.”

“Big words,” said Shadow Stalker, her grip tightening on her crossbow. “Care to back ‘em up?”

Alexandria stepped in front of the crossbow, and gazed down at Shadow Stalker.

“She- she’ll kill us,” said Shadow Stalker, her back hitting the wall. “Vi-Vista’s just a little kid. They’re all just kids. They don’t understand how the world really works. Thinks she’s living in a damn story, with a fucking script and a happy ending. There’s no morals, no right and wrong, there’s just strong and weak. If you’re prey- run.”

“If you’re prey,” said Alexandria. “Obey.”

Shadow Stalker joined the rest of them.

“On three,” said Aegis. “Fuck Everywhere. One, two, three.”

“Fuck Everywhere,” said the Brockton Bay Wards together.

“Now that that’s done, let’s introduce ourselves,” Aegis said, unlatching his mask. “I’m Carlos.”

Clockblocker was next, revealing a flop of messy red hair. “Dennis.”

“Missy,” said Vista, grinning adorably.

“Sophia,” said Shadow Stalker, unmasking.

Kid Win took off his visor, “Chris.”

Othala took off her mask. “I’m-”

“Fucking easy targ- gah!” A boy drenched in blood crashed onto the table.

Two girls and a boy popped into existence beside him. Flechette blinked. A second later another girl appeared, and then another. There was a metallic tinging sound, like a bell being rung.

Carlos, Missy, Chris, Sophia, and Othala fell, little pins stabbing into their neck. The one aimed for Clockblocker bounced off his armor.

One of the girls who’d just popped into existence, the lanky one, gazed down at Sophia. 

The girl giggled. Laughed. A bitter, painful thing. Much like Alexandria, her appearance caught the eye, forced you to pay attention but for the opposite reason. Everything a person normally hid, all the ugly bits exposed. Rather than leather or cotton, the girl wore a wreathing mass of muscles, bleeding and exposed, twisting around her. Instead of any number of typical masks, she just covered her face with a dark garbage bag.

She’d teleported into the heart of the Protectorate and just taken down half the Wards, before any of them- even Alexandria- could react. Uber and Leet fled. Flechette almost followed them.

“Please don’t kill me,” said Rune, falling to her knees. “I did what you said, reformed. I ne-never believed in the Empire anyways.”

“Good,” said the girl, eyes still on Shadow Stalker. Flesh coiled around her. “Because they’re all dead.”

This was Everywhere. The epitome of evil. The fascist who represented the greatest threat to American democracy. And Flechette was suddenly very very sure that she could not in fact ‘take her’.

Alexandria yanked Weld behind her.

That’s right. She’d forgotten. They had Alexandria. There was nothing to fear.

Everywhere turned to Alexandria. “Get them out of here,” said Everywhere, motioning towards the Wards she’d just defeated. “I don’t know why you’ve let a bunch of civilians dressed up as heroes get so deep into your operations, but now isn’t the time for it.”

“Do you know the punishment for unmasking a cape?” Asked Alexandria.

“Yes. Death,” whispered Everywhere, a horrible smile on her lips. “Not by ‘heroes’ . By villains.”

Alexandria glanced at a mousy brown-haired girl.

“You’re right,” said Alexandria. “We need to evacuate the civilians. Clockblocker, Rune, get them out of here… And Clockblocker… We’ll be talking later. About why you wanted to stay in Brockton Bay. The truth this time.”

Everywhere scoffed at the mention of Rune. As her two teammates followed Alexandria’s orders, Everywhere kicked Shadow Stalker in the face. Crumpled her nose.

“Retaliation for a teammate,” said Everywhere. “I believe in eye-for-an-eye. Do you? If you’d like, I can teleport you and your friends to Bonesaw and the Siberian.”

What? But those were-

“I see,” said Alexandria. “You’re a child. You want me to clean up your mess.”

Flechette faltered. Why wasn’t Alexandria denying it? They couldn’t be here. It was a bluff. Had to be.

“Coil,” said a blonde girl with a predatory smile, semi-coagulated blooding dripping off her hair like strings of natto. “I see. So you knew about him… But how?”

“Tattletale,” said Everywhere. “Focus.”

“Hey,” said Tattletale, opening up her arms, a bloody nub where her thumb should have been. “We’re all friends here. Alexandria’s our boss, or did I forget to tell ya? So boss, I’ve got one question… Noelle!”

“Cute,” said Alexandria, walking towards Everywhere. Tattletale skipped in front of her. “The Slaughterhouse takes precedence over your childish need to prove your intelligence.”

“My intelligence is self-evident,” said Tattletale. “I know things. Like why you’re here. You knew the Slaugh-”

Alexandria covered her mouth, and effortlessly lifted her a foot off the ground. “Noelle. Who is she?”

“Why are you here, Alexandria?” Asked Weld. Flechette wondered too. It hadn’t made any sense for Alexandria to come here just to help acclimate them to a new team, but if she’d known about the Slaughterhouse? It explained some things, but it still seemed like a half-measure. She’d feel a lot better if they had Eidolon and Legend, and maybe Chevalier, Myrdin, and Dragon too. Let them be on their way. Or better, let it all be a mistake, a bluff.

“Tattletale knows the specifics about Noelle,” said Everywhere. “I can only speculate.”

“Speculate then,” said Alexandria. Tattletale squirmed ineffectually in her grasp.

“Jack said he was going to use her to end the world,” said Everywhere. “Based on context she’s a Case 53 under Coil’s control with the ability to multiply and master capes. Give her a cape like Panacea and Jack in her ear, and that is one scenario for ending the world”

“Agreed,” said Alexandria. “Which is why I’ll be leaving with Panacea.”

“What?” Asked Flechette quietly, her voice unheard over Everywhere’s mocking laughter. 

Weld trembled, wood from the conference table splintering in his grip. “You’re…”

“Trying to save the world,” said Alexandria. “Panacea is irreplaceable. Even if I call in Eidolon and Legend, a victory over the Slaughterhouse is not assured. If a loss means armageddon, securing our most valuable assets must be given priority.”

She tossed Weld a cell phone. “Dial 9 for an airstrike. Should the battle turn for the worse, I expect you to do your duty. I recommend that you start by doing what you can to eliminate Noelle. She and Bonesaw are the only obvious avenues they’ve got in terms of ending the world, and as long as we have Panacea we can counter Bonesaw.”

Flechette didn’t understand. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. They were the good guys right? And good guys didn’t just let cities burn, didn’t abandon Wards to the Slaughterhouse because it was fucking expedient.

“So you’re just going to leave?” Asked Everywhere. “Give up without a fight? You’re worse than any villain. You’re sucking up all the good people, and making sure that they accomplish nothing.”

Alexandria smiled and pointed at her eye. “What would you have me do instead? Fight the Siberian? Fight Glaistig Uaine and Crawler? What if I lose and make them stronger? War isn’t a morality play, it doesn’t reveal character, and if I make a mistake it’s everyone else who dies. Don’t presume that I care what you, or any of the other children in this room think of me. All that matters is winning.”

Alexandria let Tattletale go. “I know that it sounds hollow, but good luck.”

Alexandria was right. It did sound hollow. It kinda sounded like Flechette had thrown her life away for a lie.

“Your powers?” Asked Everywhere, already moving on from the betrayal as if she’d been expecting it.

“I’m full metal,” said Weld. “Like a tank. Most powers bounce off me, and I can absorb metals into my body. If I lose a limb, I can reform it by absorbing metal.”

“Try to stamp him,” said Tattletale, smiling wildly as if she hadn’t almost been killed by Alexandria.

Everywhere took Weld’s hand. “I can’t.”

“He registers as non organic to powers that work on organics,” said Tattletale. “And registers as organic to non organics. We might be able to use him to retrieve people after Noelle eats them.”

“I can charge things,” said Flechette numbly. She picked up a paper, gave it some energy, and sunk it halfway into the table. They were fighting the Slaughterhouse. Jack Slash. The Siberian. Bonesaw. Harbinger. Crawler. Mannequin. Glaistig Uaine. And the Protectorate was taking all their best people, and leaving the rest of them to work with a demented fucking villain. She’d been prepared to die when she’d signed up, she just hadn’t expected it to be meaningless. “I can make a bolt that goes through stainless steel like warm butter. And I’m a good shot, I never miss.”

“More precisely,” said Tattletale. “She can temporarily imbue nonliving objects with the ability to ignore select laws of physics. Open a portal. I want to see how her power interacts with it.”

A portal opened up next to her. She crumpled another paper, charged it, and threw it into the portal. The paper ignored the portal and buried itself in the concrete underneath it.

“Here Siby Siby Siby,” said Tattletale. “Don’t you wanna eat me? Hey Flechette, charge up one of Alexandria’s gloves, will ya? I wanna test something.”

Everywhere closed the portal. “You think she can hurt the Siberian?”

“I do,” said Tattletale. “Although a blaster isn’t an ideal matchup against that finger-eating cunt. A thinker with sensory abilities is what’s needed. Remember what I said about the Siberian being a projection? What’s needed to defeat her is finding her master. Kill them, and ole Siby pops like a balloon.”

“Can she kill Noelle?” Asked Everywhere.

“Probably,” said Tattletale. “I don’t know. An incinerator would be better. Maybe one of Bakuda’s leftover bombs?”

“How heavy is Noelle?” Asked Everywhere.

“At least a few thousand pounds,” said Tattletale. “Probably more. She’s big, fast, and strong. What’s gonna make this tough is that she’s got friends. Powerful capes. We’re going to need them if we want to fight the Slaughterhouse, but they’ll turn on us if we kill her. Also you have to keep in mind that Glaistig Uaine can resurrect anyone we kill, so if we take down Noelle first, expect to be fighting her as a ghost.”

“So Uaine needs to be taken down first,” said Everywhere. “Do you know the powers of the capes she’s got in her arsenal?”

“Gray Boy,” said Alexandria. “He can create time loops in a ten foot radius around him. If damaged, he will simply revert back to an earlier unharmed state.”

“Which will do him little good if I teleport him to the bottom of the ocean,” said Everywhere. 

“I can’t guarantee that that would work,” said Alexandria. “I’m not sure whether or not his power would allow him to reverse the teleportation. I would advise against relying on that strategy too heavily.”

“Probably safe to assume she’s got all of the Empire’s powers,” said Tattletale. “So expect to be facing Kaiser, Hookwolf, and Krieg.”

“If I can get a portal in the Atlantic I can blast Kaiser to the moon,” said Everywhere. “Hookwolf I’m not so sure about. We could use Vista and Clockblocker to make a string cage to restrict him, and then use one of Flechette’s bolts to finish him.”

“This won’t work,” said a large man in blood-soaked leather. “She’s been traveling with the Slaughterhouse for decades. We’re not going to be able to create a countermeasure for every cape she’s collected.”

It was true. Watching them plan, Flechette could understand how the Undersiders had been so successful. They were smart, maybe even genius, definitely on another level compared to her team in Buffalo. But they weren’t taking on the Wards, not even a Protectorate branch or a local villain gang, this was the Slaughterhouse. If clever plans were capable of defeating them, they’d have been put down years ago.

Everywhere nodded. “You’re right. Uaine is the one pulling the strings. If we can get the drop on her, I can kill her.”

“We just need one of the stamps within ten feet,” said Tattletale. “A Stranger would be best, but we don’t have any. Grue is actually better suited to the job than you. He should be the one to place the stamp.”

“Or we could just leave the stamp near Noelle,” said Everywhere. “If we’re sure she’s who they’re after, I could just kill anyone who gets close.”

“What if they use Crawler to break her free?” Asked Tattletale.

“Noelle is here voluntarily right?” Asked Everywhere.

Tattletale nodded.

“We explain that the Slaughterhouse is coming for her,” said Everywhere. “She swallows a stamp. Once Jack and Uaine get close enough, I teleport them.”

“Maybe,” said Tattletale. “But they might just have Crawler or Siberian kill her, and use Uaine to resurrect her.”

“It’s possible,” said Everywhere. “So we do both plans. I give you a stamp and you convince Noelle to eat it. Meanwhile, me and Grue try to get drop on Uaine. If we get within ten feet I kill her, but if we can’t do so we fall back on Plan B.”

“Stealth should be a fallback plan,” said Tattletale. “If we’ve got access to the Protectorate, how feasible would it be to just give Battery or Assault a stamp and just blitz her?”

“They’d be fucked before they could get close enough,” said Everywhere. “Grayboy would loop them if she saw them coming.”

“Right, right,” said Tattletale. She smirked. “But what if we didn’t need to get close to her? If we partner with the Travelers we get access to their powers. Trickster can swap places with anyone in his line of sight.”

“So Trickster teleports her next to me, and I teleport her to the bottom of the Atlantic,” said Everywhere. “That would probably work. It might get him Gray Boy’d though.”

“We don’t have to tell him about Gray Boy,” said Tattletale. “Or we can downplay the risks. I can tell them I can get them out of it if they get looped.”

“Can you?”

Tattletale shrugged. “They’d believe I could. That’s what matters.”

“Alright,” said Everywhere. “What do the rest of them do?”

“Ballistic can launch things he touches at supersonic speeds. Sundancer can create and control a miniature sun. Genesis can create and control a body of her choosing, but she must be asleep to do so. One thing though, they all refuse to kill.”

“We use Clockblocker, Vista, Aegis, and Glory Girl to seed the battlefield with frozen obstacles, get Crawler slowed down, and then use Sundancer to burn him up.”

“No,” said Tattletale. “She’d never agree to it.”

Everywhere clenched her jaw. “Fuck. Mess with her head. Do your thing. Master her.”

“I won’t be able to,” said Tattletale. “My power is guess-and-check. I can piss someone off, maybe break them if their insecurities are big enough. I can’t master them.”

“Then we separate her from the rest of the group. Kidnap her. Let Regent or Panacea master her. We’ll restrain Crawler, then cook him alive.”

“You can’t,” said a blonde girl who must’ve had a run in with Bonesaw. She looked almost spiderlike, with six arms, and her teeth fully exposed liked an insect’s. “I know you, Taylor. This isn’t who you are. If you do this, give in to darkness, you’re letting them win. You’ll become everything you hate. A villain. A bully.”

Everywhere grew still. Let the silence linger. Suffocate. When she responded, her voice was cold and calm. “I forced Amy to fix you. I threatened her at gunpoint. She still didn’t believe me, until I shot her. And after it was over, she thanked me for it.”

“The world needs heroes like you, Victoria,” said Everywhere. “But right now it needs a monster.”

“You’ve convinced me to stay,” said Alexandria, her nostrils flaring, holding out her hand. “I’ll even call in the rest of the Triumvirate. Conditional on you and your Undersiders joining the Protectorate.”

Chapter Text

A/N: Thank to Two Pence for beta reading. I’ve written but not edited up to 3.13, so hopefully I’ll have a better release schedule going forward.

ooOoo

“You’ve convinced me to stay,” said Alexandria, her nostrils flaring, holding out her hand. “I’ll even call in the rest of the Triumvirate. Conditional on you and your Undersiders joining the Protectorate.”

“And what happens if I say no,” said Everywhere, staring at Alexandria’s hand. Bleeding flesh slithered around the girl’s skeletal figure.

“Then I wish you luck,” said Alexandria. “I suggest you kill Noelle immediately. With her gone, the Slaughterhouse will grow bored eventually. It’s even possible that some of you survive.”

“I could teleport you to the Siberian,” said Everywhere. “Take my friends and leave before you get back.”

“You could,” said Alexandria. “You won’t. Brockton Bay is your home, you won’t leave it at the Slaughterhouse’s mercy.”

“This isn’t right,” said Flechette. “I get why you want her on our side, but this isn’t the way to go about it. How can you live with yourself?”

“28 times I’ve run from an Endbringer,” said Alexandria. “28 times I’ve let entire countries fall. An estimated 1.34 billion people have died as a result of my failure. I’ve felt guilt over their lives, but never regret. Because the alternative, getting myself killed for nothing, is far worse. Letting one city fall is nothing compared to the end of the world.”

“The end of the world happens one city at a time,” said Everywhere.

“Is this about Shadow Stalker?” Asked Alexandria. “You seemed offended by her presence. Has she wronged you in some way? Accept our offer and she’s off the team. Depending on her transgressions even the birdcage is a possibility.”

Everywhere’s laughter was bitter and humorless.

“There are some commercial ventures we’d like to continue,” said Tattletale. “We were working on a joint venture with medhall to modify livestock with human organs and blood. Saved lots of lives, made us lots of money. Brockton Bay’s problems are a lot deeper than criminality. If we could get some capes using their powers commercially we could save the city economically. We’d also like to reform the courts, education, and the police system in Brockton Bay. Just as a test case? That’s my price.”

“No,” said Alexandria, frowning. “I have no more time for this. Will you save the city, or let it burn for your pride?”

“Fine,” said Everywhere, the contempt, the hatred was clear in her voice. “You win. I’ll become a ‘hero’ . Let’s save the world together.”

“You hate me,” said Alexandria. “You believe that I’m evil, corrupt, power hungry. That’s fine. You will give me your full cooperation when it comes to the Endbringers and Slaughterhouse. Aside from that, you may act as you wish.”

“I stay in Brockton Bay,” said Everywhere. “So do Tattletale and the rest of the Undersiders. I want Glory Girl and Clockblocker on my squad. I want Armsmaster leading the branch, and I’m not going to have any part of that Wards bullshit.”

“Done,” said Alexandria. “Let us go to the local director. There can be no misunderstandings. Everywhere, Tattletale, please join me. Weld, Flechette, Glory Girl, Regent, Grue, you’re to make sure that Panacea stays safe. Her capture is one of the Slaughterhouse’s win conditions, but remember, they do not need her alive. If they close in on you, run. Grue, send your darkness in the sky if you need reinforcements. Legend will be able to get to you more quickly than the Slaughterhouse.”

Alexandria, Everywhere, and Tattletale took their leave. Two villains and a hero. Which was which, Flechette could no longer say.

ooOoo

“It was commendable to sacrifice the possibility of assassinating Coil,” said Alexandria, as soon as we were out of the room. “The Slaughterhouse was the greater threat. However, I will not offer him to you as easily as Shadow Stalker. He is far too useful.”

“He kept secrets from you,” said Tattletale. “He’s collecting capes… Noelle… Dinah Alcott. He’s keeping them in horrible conditions, creating enemies that we don’t need.”

“Disappointing,” said Alexandria. “You have one of the most extraordinary powers I have ever seen, but you use it for petty provisional squabbles. Do not disappoint me again.”

“He shoved a gun in my face and forced me to work for him,” said Tattletale. “He sold out me and my squad to the ABB. He’s a fucking cunt.”

“Mannequin attacked Armsmaster and left him in critical condition,” said Alexandria. “This was ten days ago. I believe Jack Slash’s intention was to lure Eidolon into Brockton Bay. We are playing into the hands of a man who has stated that his intention is to end the world. I find you repellant, disrespectful, and dangerous, but also extremely intelligent when you choose to get out of your own way. Your presence in the strategy meeting may be the difference between victory and defeat. Whether your contributions are positive or negative is up to you.”

“I know Director Calvert better than you,” said Tattletale. “He’s a selfish, paranoid coward. I’ll help you with the Endbringers. He won’t. And he’ll kill me before I can-”

“Tattletale,” I said. “Stop. Alexandria’s right. Coil takes a backseat to the Slaughterhouse.”

Not that I liked Alexandria. She was everything I hated in a person. Yet another authority figure obsessed with holding onto their power. Justice was unimportant to her. She’d been as ready to sell out Sophia as Principal Blackwell had been to sell out me, and for basically the same rationale. To gain the favor of the stronger cape. Sure it was the right decision, but for the wrong reason. Justice shouldn’t have been about how popular or powerful you were, it should’ve been about figuring out what actually happened and delivering appropriate punishments.

More than that I hated Alexandria because she was a bully. Probably worse than Emma and Sophia, because I really doubted they’d have held all of Brockton Bay hostage to force me to do what they wanted. Not that it would stick. I had no intention of staying with the Protectorate once I’d taken care of Jack and his merry band of murderers. Although before I left I’d share all the bullshit she’d done to me, try to save as many of the capes who actually wanted to make a difference as I could. Hopefully enough capes would pull out to kill the PRT. Then I could replace it with something new, something better. If I had access to their resources I’d have created order through overwhelming force. We’d take down the disorganized parahuman gangs around the country one-by-one, and then everyone would work together to end the Endbringers. Even if it didn’t work, the PRT was on a 55 game losing streak against them- well 31- it probably wasn’t fair to count the losses before they formed. The point was that what the PRT wasn’t just morally reprehensible, it was ineffective. That, more than anything else, was why it needed to be replaced.

“Director Calvert,” said Alexandria, as we finally entered Coil’s lair. It was a mostly ordinary office. A desk, some stationary, four filing cabinets, two drawers, and a few portraits of what were presumably his wife and children. He did have an advanced looking computer. The man himself was tall, even sitting in his padded chair he was almost eye level with me. “Everywhere and Tattletale have joined the team.”

Beside Coil were four capes. A man with a tophat and a full suit. A lonely looking redhead in a wheelchair. An attractive woman in a black bodysuit emblazoned with red suns, Sundancer. The pacifist whose reticence to do what was necessary would surely cause all sorts of problems. There weren’t any openings in her costumes, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be able to paralyze her with a sting. Last was a not bad-looking man with a build like a football player. He wasn’t exactly my type, but he wasn’t exactly not. Maybe a little too muscular, but nothing grotesque like a bodybuilder. His arms were defined, a couple veins bulging out from his skin naturally. I probably wasn’t giving him enough credit, if he were to ask me out in some world where Emma hadn’t turned on me, I’d have probably said yes.

He shuffled behind Sundancer, likely intimidated by Alexandria.

“So our game is over?” Coil leaned back in his chair, and shot Alexandria a smile. “And after all that work setting up a body double for them to chase? A shame.”

“He’s lying,” said Tattletale wildly. “There was no body double. You should be thanking the Slaughterhouse Coil, without them you’d be dead.”

“Not a chance,” said Coil. “I was given orders not to kill you. The game within the game. Just as your place was meant to train heroes, my place was meant to train villains. If you were truly my enemy, Tattletale, I’d have buried you.”

Tattletale scoffed. “Oh please, you didn’t have a clue. I already turned Jackson, and it was only a matter of time until I got Lamont on the payroll too.”

“I revealed my power to Lamont,” said Coil. “He knew better than to betray me.”

“Bullshi-”

“Enough,” said Alexandria.

“Wanna spill about Noelle?” Asked Tattletale. “Or do you want me to explain why you’ve been hosting a proto-Endbringer? Short answer, it’s megalomania folks. He wants as much power as possible, and he’s perfectly willing to risk the Protectorate for it.”

The man in the tophat glared at Tattletale. She seemed oblivious to anyone but Coil.

“A fair starting point,” said Alexandria. “Once we know Uaine is out of range, our first priority is Noelle’s elimination. What will it take?”

Most of Coil’s capes seemed resigned to the fact, but the man in the tophat looked furious. I stamped my lycra suit just in case. Panacea’s flesh bodysuit was almost dead, having given its life in our first battle against Siberian. Coagulating blood trickled down my back, feeling like a skittering cockroach.

“If Noelle is saved she will be a greater asset than Eidolon,” said Coil, smirking. “Tattletale is right. I dream of conquest. I want to rule the city, maybe even the world. Noelle makes that possible. She can create and control clones which approximate the powers of their originals. Imagine the possibilities if she cloned Eidolon or yourself. Not once, not twice. Ten times. A hundred. Nothing could stand in my way, not even an Endbringer. Of course I understand the risks. Without my precog they would be unacceptable. But with her… With her I know that should I survive, the chances of Noelle’s compliance are 95.3%.”

“What are the chances we defeat the Slaughterhouse?” Asked Alexandria, biting her lip.

“My precog’s power has been countered by the Slaughterhouse,” said Coil. “But with my own power, I can say with certainty that immediately executing Noelle ends with all of us dead.”

Tattletale sighed. “Fine.”

“You’re damn right, it’s fine,” said the man in the tophat. “You said you’d be able to heal her! I trusted you!”

“I said I’d try,” said Tattletale.

“We should leave,” said Tophat.

“Trickster,” said Coil. “Enough. If I didn’t think I could fix Noelle, giving her asylum on my base would be suicidal. I’m a man of my word. Tattletale and Panacea will attempt to make Noelle human once more. Failing that, they’ll at least see if they can improve her condition.”

“I’m telling you it’s not possible,” said Tattletale. “Noelle is gonna realize that, eat Panacea, and then we’re all fucked.”

“Try,” said Alexandria. “That’s an order.”

Tattletale glanced at me.

“Bring Sundancer,” I said. “If things turn south, incinerate them.”

Tattletale nodded.

“I’m not going to kill my friend,” said Sundancer.

“Mars,” said Trickster slyly. “Just follow along. This is our best chance.”

The rest of his team didn’t look happy.

“That leaves the rest of us to fend off the Slaughterhouse,” said Coil. “But first we need reinforcements. Alexandria, you must issue an S-class response immediately. Glaistig Uaine must be dealt with using an elite force. Eidolon, you, Legend, Chevalier, Dragon. The Siberian and Crawler can be stalled with simple numbers.

“Until we have the necessary reinforcements,” said Coil. “We will seek to harass and deflect. Capes will be assigned where they can be most useful. Everywhere, can you teleport the Siberian?”

“No,” I said.

“But perhaps Ballistic can launch her. Failing that we’ll focus on evasion- Battery, Assault, Shadow Stalker, Clockblocker, Grue, Weld, Rune- with a strategy of limiting losses. Any cape we lose will be turned against us.”

I almost liked the idea. But it would be better if instead of focusing on harassment, we had Shadow Stalker take up the Siberian’s focus, while the rest of them looked for the Siberian’s master. Even if they couldn’t find them, it would be a better distraction. I also hated the idea of splitting up Vista and Clockblocker and Rune. In contrast, Battery and Assault served the same function and would be better split. And maybe see if Leet or Kid Win had x-ray glasses or anything. 

Coil continued. “Against Crawler we place our heaviest hitters and our blasters. Genesis, create a construct large enough to fight him. Miss Militia, Vista, Trickster, Glory Girl, Triumph, Sere, Othala, Uber, Leet, Kid Win, Bitch, and eventually Sundancer. Alexandria, until Eidolon arrives, I want you working on Siberian.”

Vista, Clockblocker, and Rune needed to fight Crawler. With their powers working in unison they could spread strings throughout the battlefield, restrict Crawler’s movement. Then hit him with the big guns.

He turned to me. “Everywhere, you will have the hardest job of all. Keep Glaistig Uaine busy until Eidolon arrives.”

And just like that, all my complaints fell away.

“Yes sir,” I said.

“Thomas,” said Alexandria. She almost sounded sullen. “I didn’t force her to join the team to throw her away. An attack on her is an attack on me.”

“I have no quarrel with Everywhere,” said Coil. “But putting you up against Glaistig Uaine is an unacceptable risk. She can break your invulnerability with a touch or with Gray Boy, and your offensive potential is limited against her. If she defeats you and claims your power for herself, she may have enough firepower to defeat Eidolon.”

“48 times I’ve fought an Endbringer, and every time I’ve survived,” said Alexandria. “Glaistig Uaine is perhaps the most dangerous parahuman on the planet. She’s no Endbringer.”

“Perhaps,” said Coil, he closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ve split the timeline. In the other, you fight Glaistig Uaine. In this one, you fight Crawler. Humor me.”

Alexandria glowered and stalked out of the room.

Before I left, Tattletale grabbed my arm. “I could join you against Glaistig Uaine… Maybe give you the information you need to take her down. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“She does,” said Coil. “Your presence, even Alexandria’s presence will only harm her chances of survival. Her best chance is to stall Glaistig Uaine alone.”

Tattletale shot him an angry look.

“It’s not like I’d be much safer fighting Crawler or Siberian,” I said. “All the options are bad. If I get outmatched I’ll just teleport away. Any other cape we send at her will just make her more powerful, so I’ve got to do this alone.”

“Remember that promise I made about making you stronger?” Asked Tattletale. “Your powers get stronger the more strongly your emotions match your trigger event. You can second trigger if things get bad enough, if you experience something even worse than the worst day of your life. That’s how Narwhal went from a pretty run of the mill cape to one of the strongest in the world. I think you may have put it together on your own, and now you’re taking crazy risks to try and make that jump.”

“I… I will pursue it,” I said. “But not now. I’m not crazy. I know who I’m up against.”

She hugged me then. Despite all that she’d done, I hugged her back.

“We’re going to win,” I said.

She smiled. “Of course we are.”

If I didn’t know her so well I might have been fooled. She was scared. Not of dying.

I hesitated. Tried to help her the way she’d so often helped me. “You’re not going to end the world. I know you better than Jack. You’d never do it.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you really knew me,” said Tattletale. “I don’t care about most people. My powers make it hard. I see all the pettiness, all the selfishness, all the hypocrisy. I see the ugliness in everyone all the time. Panacea said I was incapable of love, I think she’s right.”

“She was just fucking with you,” I said. “You showed me how to use my power to help people. Same with Panacea.”

“For money,” said Tattletale. “Because I could feel my power steering me away from it and I don’t like being told what to do. But not because I cared. I don’t. I don’t give a shit about most people.”

“But you’ve still got your morals,” I said. “Your unwritten rules were bullshit rationalizations, but you still needed them. You’d never willingly end the world, and you’re too smart to be tricked into it.”

She looked away. “If you knew the truth you wouldn’t say that.”

“Then tell me,” I said.

“I knew my brother was suicidal,” said Tattletale. “And I let him die. I don’t know why. Maybe Amy is right about me, maybe the part of me that allows me to care about other people is just missing. I can feel Jack’s fingerprints in everything I do. Calling in Eidolon, gathering all these capes in one place, letting you go up against Glaistig fucking Uaine.”

Bonesaw had said as much.

“I don’t think he’s going to try to trick me,” said Tattletale. “It’s a game to him. He wants me to know that I’ll end the world, and get me to do it anyways. If that happens… Give me the same deal you gave Panacea.”

I nodded. “I thought you were a monster once, someone who hurt others for their own amusement. If you actually become that person, I’ll kill you myself.”

I waited for her to make a joke, to lighten things somehow. She just nodded, left with Sundancer, leaving me with a stomach full of worry and anxiety.

I tried to get my mind off it, force myself to think of something light and fun.

How was I going to take on Glaistig Uaine? The stingers hadn’t worked on the Slaughterhouse, but when I’d aimed them at her ghosts she’d used shields to deflect them. The stingers were worth keeping, but I’d need a portal in the Atlantic for Gray Boy. I teleported the stingers to me and connected them with some string a PRT officer had given me. I’d need to give the stamp to a flier, maybe Glory Girl or Aegis, and have them drop it off in the ocean.

Halfway to the infirmary, one of the screens lining the hallway turned on.

“Everywhere,” said the television. “Can you hear me? This is Dragon. I was listening in on the meeting.”

Dragon? As in the strongest tinker in the world, that Dragon?

“I’ve got a dragon suit in Buffalo, and I’ll be on my way as soon as we’re done talking,” said Dragon. “When I arrive, I’ll help you with Glaistig Uaine. In the meantime, the code to Armsmaster’s laboratory is 91-12-13. Before he was… We were working together on a project. He had a stockpile of Bakuda’s bombs. I’ve lit up the light nearest the compartment, tap the second then third button of the fourth halberd down on the rightmost wall to reveal it. I’ve printed a paper in his office with a description of what they do. He modified them to trigger upon sudden deceleration. They’re yours.”

I stared at the screen. “What do you want in return?”

“Survive,” said Dragon. “You can help a lot of people if you don’t throw your life away.”

I didn’t have time for this. “Just tell me what you want.”

“If these bombs even help slow down the Slaughterhouse a little they will save countless lives,” said Dragon.

What? That didn’t even make sense. It made me uneasy, agreeing to an exchange of favors without knowing what would be expected in return, but I was about to fight one of the strongest parahumans on the planet. I had little choice but to accept the deal Dragon had forced onto me. 

“Fine,” I said, through clenched teeth. “You win. I’ll take them.”

“Good luck,” said Dragon. “I’ll assist you as quickly as I can.”

Did her good girl act ever actually fool anyone?

Yet another authority figure who’d let me down. At least it wasn’t a surprise anymore. To her credit, the bombs were exactly where she said they’d be, packed neatly inside a large steel crate along with a can of containment foam. With it, I could spray the box, and secure all my stingers and bombs, making everything stable for transport to the bottom of the ocean. I stamped the outside of the tinker container and filled it with containment foam. I noticed a little gap between the bombs and stingers, large enough to fit a person. A place to store prisoners? No, a place to run to if the fighting got too bad. I owed Dragon and Armsmaster a hell of a favor for this, they’d built me the ultimate portal.

Now I just needed a fast way to transport it.

“Taylor,” said Victoria. “Dragon briefed me on the plan. Fly as far as I can, and put this as deep into the ocean as I can.”

“It’s Everywhere,” I said. “Or Squirter . Whichever you prefer.”

“Actually it’s neither,” said Victoria. “You agreed to join the Wards, so you’re going to need to come up with a new name.”

I frowned at the pettiness. We didn’t have time to get into an argument about something as pointless as names with the Slaughterhouse minutes away.

“I know a place which makes great lasagna,” said Victoria, her voice just a little too casual to sound natural. “I’ll take you and Ames there some time. Be a good chance for everyone on the new team to get to know each other.”

I held out a penny. “I’ll send this at your face if I have to teleport one of Glaistig Uaine’s ghosts early. Get the fuck out of there or you might get Grayboy’d.”

“Next Tuesday?” Asked Victoria. If I didn’t know her so well I probably would have bought her act. “Your schedule should be clear now that you’ve joined the PRT.”

“Once you’ve set my stamp,” I said. “Your first priority is Panacea and Tattletale. We’re too focused on the Slaughterhouse’s big hitters. Bonesaw is going to go after Amy while everyone’s distracted. Let Aegis and…” I didn’t like it but no other cape really matched up well with Jack. “ Shadow Stalker know that they’re being pulled back from the frontline. They’re better utilized securing our flanks.”

“So,” said Victoria. “You know about Sophia. I wasn’t a part of the Protectorate.”

“They’re gonna go ahead with the plan to heal Noelle,” I said. “Find Coil. He’s already split the timeline, he’s vulnerable. Threaten him and he’ll squeal her location.”

“Coil the supervillain?” Asked Victoria. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“He’s my new Director,” I said.

Victoria sagged. “It’s all rotten. What’s even the point anymore?”

“I’d recommend the burgers,” I said. “Their fries aren’t great. I’ll bring my Dad, you bring Amy, get everything straightened out. See you on Tuesday.”

Victoria shrugged, and picked up the two ton steel crate of explosives, palming it like a basketball. “Why is the world like this?”

“Let’s change it,” I said, shielding my head from falling concrete. She’d flown straight through the ceiling. Did it signal to the Slaughterhouse what we were planning? No. We were dancing in Jack’s palm. That was fine. Beating a bully wasn’t about surprising them. It was about fighting and fighting and fighting, no matter what it took.

Capes and PRT officers bustled past me, setting their battlelines. I got a few nods from Miss Militia, from Assault, surprisingly even from Battery. 

“Good luck,” said Battery. “Do your best to distract her, but Assault and I will keep an eye out, and if you can’t contain her we’ll be ready to break off and give you support. Whatever anyone else thinks, I’m glad you’re on the team.”

“Siberian’s got a master,” I said. “A controller. If there’s a range, there’s a way to beat her. Lure her into an isolated area and kill all the bystanders in the vicinity. Maybe an airstrike?”

“We can’t do that!” Said Battery.

“You’re right,” I said. “She’d probably catch on if you tried to minimize civilian casualties. It’s an unacceptable risk. Take the shot at the earliest opportunity.”

Battery gave me a strange look, and shuffled off. Really? I knew she was naive, but this was Siberian, this was literally a battle for the end of the world. 

Their little mascot Vista turned her nose up at me, and Kid Win gave me an accidental shoulder check, but for the most part I was ignored. Despondent expressions, drooping shoulders, eyes on the ground. Uber and Leet were retching into a garbage can. Rune was curled in a chair, comforted by Othala. Triumph and Clockblocker were staring at the cracks running along a concrete wall, completely still. Most surprising was Sophia, pacing back and forth, hugging her crossbow like it was a teddy bear. For some reason, I thought she’d be stronger. I understood, objectively, that it made sense for them to be scared. It was still irritating that my tools were becoming dull when I needed them most. They needed to refocus. Prepare. Concentrate on their opponents, the possibilities, what good would being frightened do? 

I sensed my stamp moving away from me faster and faster. Once the portal was in place I’d be an order of magnitude more powerful than I’d ever been before. 

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How many heroes had waited their whole lives for a chance like this? A battle for the world, against a truly evil opponent when I was at the absolute height of my power. It was a dream come true.

I grinned and walked out of PRT Headquarters. It was disguised as a parking lot Downtown. Air raid sirens wailed around me, and in the distance I saw civilians skittering from the area, like a horde of terrified bugs. I walked a few blocks until I was surrounded by empty high rise skyscrapers.

There would be no spinning a victory over Glaistig Uaine as a bad thing. She was a cape so scary even Eidolon wouldn’t touch her. If I killed her, I’d be universally beloved. Not that I gave a shit about fame or any of that popularity bullshit, but it would be nice if Dad loved me again.

Who was I kidding? It would be the same old story. The only question was who would take credit for my victory. Would it be Eidolon? Alexandria? An irrational part of me suspected Shadow Stalker… Aww, so that was it. It would be Dragon. That was why she’d given me the bombs. And you know what, fair enough.

I sensed the different bombs from my collection, selected the appropriate one, and spiked it into the middle of the street about a block from me. For a second, the entire city was illuminated, and then the pressure wave from the explosion swept me off my feet, and sent me tumbling.

I picked myself up with a smile. A cloud of smoke was rising from the crater I’d made. Glowing clouds from the explosion formed a giant middle finger in the sky.

In seconds, dark figures descended from the sky like angels.

I was ready for the serial killing cunt. She’d made a fucking mistake thinking she could strut around in my fucking city! Come and get some!

“ Beware, Administrator ,” said Glaistig Uaine, her voice like a chorus, a legion of the dead. “ I will not accept you into my court until you find your crown. ”

I’d already lost.

My powers were gone. I couldn’t sense my stamps. One of the capes under her control must have been a power nullifier. Obvious in retrospect. Tattletale had even said she’d lost her power when we’d first faced the Slaughterhouse. I should’ve seen it coming, should’ve…

Done what?

Glaistig Uaine was the most feared cape in the world for a reason. Even at my strongest, she was in a completely different weight class. No amount of preparation was ever going to change that. 

I wasn’t Everywhere anymore, I was only Taylor Hebert.

And I’d just thrown my life away for nothing.

Chapter Text

A/N: Big thanks to Two Pence for beta reading!

An invisible force slammed me into the concrete. The pavement lit on fire around me, bright, orange, and hot. Panacea’s writhing flesh shield sagged, killed by the heat. The flames burnt away fabric and skin. Boiled flesh. Pain. Hot and then cold. Bright and then dark. Colder, colder. Darker, darker.

I reached out for my stamp sense. Nothing.

I was powerless. Pathetic Taylor Hebert. Nothing more.

Shivered, trembled. Then limp. So, so, cold.

Forced upwards. Flying, floating, held up. The sky was like a web of light, a glob? A flicker of the Atlantic, pain ripped through the chest, but temporary. Warmth returned, and thought.

Fighting Glaistig Uaine. No powers. How to get them back? Didn’t know how. What weapons I could use without powers? How could I win?

A gentle push. Steel spikes sprouted from the window of a high rise building. A carpet of nails. Closer, closer. Kaiser’s ghost observed nearby. I struggled against whatever shade Uaine used to control me, couldn’t break out of their grasp, but could wiggle a little. Couldn’t see them. Still no powers.

Metal spikes grew closer.

The pepper spray can’s cool surface tickled against my fingertips. Tried to grasp it. Did.

A few feet from the nails. Silver and gray and too close. They’d penetrate my eyes, my legs, smaller ones through my gut. Floated forward. 

Only had one chance. Who to spray? Who was negating my powers. Kaiser? The telekinetic I couldn’t see? Certainly not the Nice Guy ghost. Had to find a way to get to Uaine. Out of time.

Pepper sprayed in the direction of Kaiser. Missed badly.

Couldn’t see. Warm wetness on cheek. Nail in eye and spike through the thighs. Painful everywhere. Bleeding everywhere. Hurt.

Thoughts broke. Jumbled, messy.

Coldness, slowness, darkness, promised relief. Escape. No. A piercing sensation through my chest.

Warmth returned. Sanity returned. A flicker of the Atlantic, only to disappear again.

Feet in the air. Body still controlled by evil. Body a prison, a torturer.

Why? Why, why, why?

“ Find your crown,” chanted a chorus of devils. “And you can join my court.”

I was shoved down. To the ground. Sheets of steel burst from the street, uprooting dirt and concrete. The walls constricted around me. Smaller and smaller. Trapping. Squeezing. Bugs and worms from underneath the overturned cement my only company. Flesh shield was no protection. It was dead. Died a while ago. 

Covered in blood, bugs and worms crawling and biting, trapped by steel. The walls squeezed, squeezed. Alone and surrounded in darkness.

My fingers scratched against metal. Nails broke, tore, like cheese in a grater. I fought and fought.

A scream ripped through my throat, desperate and broken. I reached out to my power.

And I felt nothing.

Trapped, trapped, trapped.

“Let me out,” I cried out for help, pounding on the locker. “Let me out! Somebody, let me out!”

But nobody came.

ooOoo

“Put down the gun,” said Sundancer, her hands up. “I’m only asking that you try. I’m not blind! I get it. If this doesn’t work, I’ll… Just try to heal her, please?”

“Sad thing is,” said Tattletale. She’d drawn her glock as soon as her power told her there weren’t any capes or PRT officers in the area. They were underground, halfway down a dimly lit hallway in Coil’s underground base. “You’re going to kill her eventually. There’s no fixing a Simurgh bomb, but by the time you realize that a lot of people are gonna die. Millions. Billions. Or I take responsibility. Ames, be a dear and master her. Make her love you.”

“I could kill you,” said Sundancer. “Both of you, easily.”

Tats snorted. Like that would ever happen. “Don’t have all day Ames. Sooner we get this done, sooner we can help everyone else out. It might be the difference between your beloved Glory Hole livin’ and dyin'.”

“No,” said Amy. “I won’t.”

“Don’t tell me it’s your stupid don’t do brains schtick,” said Tattletale, rolling her eyes. “Ames, be a dear, and get over yourself.”

“I follow Everywhere,” said Amy. “Not you. Don’t think I don’t see how you’ve used her powers to wrap her around your fingers. But when I do it, it’s evil? We’d be better off without you.”

Blames mastering her sister on you. Holds you responsible for her villainy. Knows it’s bullshit, but doesn’t like to admit it.

Duh. Tat’s delved deeper.

Jealous. Taylor trusts you, but not her.

Again, nothing new. Nothing she could use. If Ames’s self-professed reasons for hating Tattletale were bullshit, then what was the real reason, and why wouldn’t she allow herself to see it?

You control her. Anticipate her. Without you, she wouldn’t be bound to rules. Would be able to force everyone around her to love her.

“You’re wrong,” said Tattletale. “I don’t control Everywhere. Sucks to admit, but my powers aren’t that strong. If they were, I’d have never let you mess with my perfect B-cup tits. I’d have tattled, and you’d be dead.”

Amy didn’t move. “Oh my god, you still don’t get it? I’ve been around the Undersiders for a month, and aside from Everywhere they're all just as bad as I thought they'd be. And it's all because of you. I’ve seen how you operate. Finding all our weaknesses, knowing just what to say to drag us down deeper. You were the one who found everyone, brought them together in all this bullshit. You pretend like you’re a savior, but the only reason any of us even need saving is because of you.”

… Cunt.

“I’d say fuck you, but nobody will ever want to,” said Tattletale.

“Hey,” said a cutesy voice from behind a door. “No swearing.”

White powder shot out of the sprinklers, Tattletale’s power vanished, and mechanical spiders leapt out of the doors around them.

Lisa shoved Sundancer backwards, and unloaded her clip into the nearest spider. “Go! Run!”

Sundancer ran. Not far. A spider shot her in the thigh with a dart, the girl fell, spiders swarmed, pulled apart limbs. More spiders massed, blocking that exit. The other was blocked by Bonesaw.

She skipped to them from the end of the hall. Lisa pulled the trigger on her glock, and shot her right through the heart. Bonesaw reached into her chest, plucked out the bullet, and held it out like a prize.

“You shouldn’t play around with guns,” said Bonesaw. “They’re dangerous! If I didn’t have a subdermal mesh around my organs that might’ve even hurt!”

Lisa shot her with a taser.

Bonesaw brushed off the wires casually. “Are you worried about your friend? Don’t worry, she’s not dead. Better actually, she’ll get to be artwork. I promise to make her beautiful.”

“I’m sorry,” Lisa murmured. She’d been stupid. Shouldn’t have wasted her bullets on Bonesaw. Should’ve put them through Sundancer’s skull, Amy’s, her own.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” said Bonesaw, twirling, her ringlets bobbing. She pointed at an emaciated vaguely mouselike figure, a patchwork of black and white skin sewed together. Rat frankenstein was holding two bodies. “Family should stick together, right? So, so I’m going to be really nice, Sarah. If you fail my test I’ll make sure you and Sundancer are together forever.”

Lisa couldn’t beat Bonesaw, couldn’t even fuck with her without her powers. Worse, Amy’s powers were out of commission too… Weren’t they? Probably not actually. Poisons shouldn’t actually work on her. Unfortunately, Amy was pretty far into the freeze category of the whole fight-flight-or-freeze reflex. Even if she weren’t, Tattletale couldn’t think of a way for Panacea to do much of anything about Bonesaw’s spiders. 

Panacea had used up all the flesh she’d kept coiled around her fighting Siberian, so there wasn’t much chance of grabbing Bonesaw with a tentacle. Not that it mattered, Bonesaw would be expecting it. Just like Bonesaw had been expecting them.

She had sprung her trap by waiting for them within the PRT. Lisa had assumed that Bonesaw had been near Empire HQ, but why did she need to be? Wouldn’t it have been smarter to have her holed up next to Noelle, and share the recording ASAP? Of couse. Noelle already knew she was fucked, which meant their whole plan of executing her had been doomed from the start. Even if they’d managed to master Sundancer, they’d have been eaten anyway.

Could she use that? Maybe feed on Bonesaw’s supposed admiration for Panacea?

“Jack was going to feed us to her,” said Lisa. “Lure us in close to her, then have her eat us. Noelle can be sweet sometimes, but other times…”

“Nope, that’s not the plan.” Bonesaw smiled sweetly at her. “Without your powers you’re kind of stupid, you know that? Hopefully you’re a little smarter so you can pass your test. Mannequin, bring her out!”

Mannequin wheeled out Rachel and Brutus. Restrained, but very, very conscious. Rachel was quiet. Scared.

Hadn’t they been halfway across the city? How’d they gotten here so fast? What were the implications?

… Um… Kinda drawing a blank without her powers.

So Mannequin… He um… Colony on the moon, right? Liked to attack people who tried to use their powers for good. Was he pissed off about the whole organs in livestock thing? And Bitch, if she got her power back, then Brutus could transform, and maybe they’d be able to make an escape?

“Murder Rat,” said Bonesaw, “Can you lay the subjects out on the floor? Isn’t this test the absolute best? Jack says I need to be more personal! Find the touchstone in the mind, and pull it out! Aren’t they beautiful, Sarah?”

Despite knowing it was a trick, Sarah flinched when she saw the two men who'd been placed opposite Bitch and Brutus, the faces Bonesaw had given them.

They weren’t the same. Close though. Real close. Enough that any differences might have been faults in her memory. The man looked like Dad, and the boy like…

They weren’t real. He couldn’t be. Lisa had let him die a long time ago.

Bonesaw handed her a rusty saw. “Just remove their masks. At least one. Jack says you’re good at it, so it should be easy.”

And if she didn’t kill the strangers, Mannequin would kill Bitch and Brutus.

“Who goes with who?” Asked Sarah, taking the saw.

“Your Dad for the dog,” said Bonesaw. “And Bitch for Reggie.”

Sarah was smart. A genius. And she’d seen Tay Tay do this kind of thing all the time. What did she need to achieve, what did she have, how could she make it happen?

What were Tat's win conditions? If Bonesaw touched Amy, or if Rachel got her powers back it meant victory for the Undersiders. What were Tat's tools? She had Amy, but Amy was panicking and kind of hated her. She had to give Amy a hint without tipping off Bonesaw or Mannequin.

“Ten,” said Bonesaw. “Nine…”

And if Rachel or Brutus died they were fucked. Which meant she had to saw off either Dad's face or Rex's.

Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Sarah was a villain. She was a villain. She didn’t care about most people. She didn’t care about strangers. If her power was working, she’d have been able to find a dozen things wrong with them. She knew the truth, knew that they were ugly.

Her knuckles whitened against the saw.

Mannequin flicked out a telescoping blade from his wrist and held it to Rachel’s neck.

“Eight,” said Bonesaw. “Seven…”

Sarah scrambled to Rex, pressed the saw to his neck. She knew the truth. Knew all the ugly little secrets. She’d always known on some level that her Unwritten Rules were bullshit. Mere justifications, to rationalize away her monstrous cravings.

She toyed with people. Hurt them. It wasn’t even really Rex. It just looked like him. Even if she normally attacked verbally, she’d done far worse. This would be nothing.

“Six, five, four,” said Bonesaw.

She closed her eyes. Sorry.

She pushed her arm forward, and nipped Rex’s neck. Some bleeding, but she hadn’t put enough force into her cut. She could do this. She’d… Played along with Taylor’s games, and she knew she’d let people die where she could’ve stopped it. She could do it.

Her arms wouldn’t stop shaking. The saw clattered on the ground. Shit, she hurried to pick it up.

“Three,” said Bonesaw. “Two. One. Zero.”

Mannequin stuck his blade through Brutus’s skull.

“I’ll kill you,” said Bitch. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Ten, nine, eight,” said Bonesaw.

Sarah gripped the saw. She had to do it. Had to. Not even about Rachel, if she didn’t she’d be stitched together with Sundancer.

Do it, Sarah, just do it!

Another half-hearted attempt to cut off Rex’s mask. Another failure.

“Five, four- oh dear, it really looks like she’s going to fail doesn’t it? Too bad, so sad. Oh wait I know. Big sis. Why don’t you help her out? That can be your test!”

A spider stabbed Amy with a needle, presumably to give her her power back.

“You could make her love you, turn her into a psychopath, or, or I could even show you what part of the brain to lobotomize to get rid of her free will!”

Mannequin wagged a finger at Bonesaw.

“No it’s not cheating,” said Bonesaw. “I’m just combining the tests into one. It’s efficient, artistic!”

Mannequin shook his head.

“You’re always such a crybaby,” said Bonesaw. “Fine. How’s this? Sarah fails her tests and we start over with Amy’s. As punishment for her failure, we’ll replace Sarah’s organs with the dog’s.”

“I’m not out of time,” said Sarah. “It would be against the rules.”

“Fine,” said Bonesaw, stomping her foot. “Three-two-one-zer-”

“Amy,” said Tattletale. “Come over here. You’ve got my permission. Master me. Make me capable.”

Amy shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I can’t. I can’t. I’ve got to follow the rules, Everywhere set out for me. If I just…”

“Panacea,” said Tattletale. “I’m not asking you to break any rules. Trust me, Taylor- even Vicky- would approve.”

Amy took half a step forward. Stopped.

“I know you’ve always had a little hate crush on me,” said Tattletale. “I’ve toyed with your attraction. How fun would it be to reverse that? Turn me into your little pet.”

Amy gave her a considering look, then strode forward. Put a hand on Tattletale’s head.

Wondering what you want. Worried you assume she’s telepathic.

Tattletale almost sagged in relief. Amy had healed her, not taken the excuse to master her. She leaned in, and gave Amy a deep wet kiss. She pointed her tongue in Bitch’s direction, and deepened the kiss so Amy didn’t give anything away. Amy eventually pulled away, panting.

Didn’t enjoy that. Bad kisser. Too much tongue. No longer views you sexually.

Well fine. Good… She was glad.

Working on creating airborne cure to prion attack which disabled powers. Will take five minutes to heal without direct contact.

Mannequin pointed at Rex, but Bonesaw held up a hand. “Don’t rush things. Savor the moment.”

She tilted her face to the side, and stared at Tattletale curiously with her ever present smile.

Expressions artificial. Emoting done by machine. Cannot cold read her.

“Amy,” said Bonesaw. “Do you know what I like about you? Your insistence on your rules. It’s important to follow rules. Do you know why?”

Just answer. Stall however you can.

Amy trembled. Scared. And Rachel was nowhere close to being healed.

Tattletale answered for her. “Rules keep her fr-”

Pain like fire spread through her ankle. One of Bonesaw’s spiders had stuck her with a needle.

“Rude,” said Bonesaw. “I was talking to Amy. Now Amy, why is it so important that you follow rules?”

“I… I… It’s because I can’t trust myself not to stray,” said Amy, closing her eyes, tears crawling down her cheeks. “As long as I have my rules, I can keep myself good.”

“It’s important to be good,” said Bonesaw. “I agree. And it’s important to be a good girl. Especially when so many are bad, bad, bad. I hate bad girls. They always think they’re so clever, but Jack can always see right through them. I think I’m getting the hang of it too. It’s not hard. The last bad girl I met made me really angry, so I put some modified wasp larva inside her, and had them eat their way out of her. It was really artistic, I wish you could have seen it!”

Bonesaw stared at Tattletale’s ankle.

“You’re not a good girl,” said Amy. “Neither am I. That’s why we have rules.”

Bonesaw skipped to Tattletale. “Have you been the one putting all these horrible thoughts in Amy’s head? Bad influences need to be removed.”

“N-no,” said Amy. “Don’t hurt her.”

“We’re good girls, Amy,” Bonesaw smiled and walked to Brutus, scratched him under his chin. “Take the cute puppy with a hole in its brain. To most people it seems dead. But to one of us, we could put it back together easily. Couldn’t we sis?”

“You should be thanking me,” said Tattletale. “Before she met me, she was just a healer. I was the one who opened her eyes. Got her using her power creatively.”

“Sarah,” said Bonesaw sweetly, handing her the rusty saw. “Go cut off your brother’s face. Since you’re mastered and all, it should be really easy.”

Tattletale took the saw. She had her powers this time. She’d use it to see what a shitty person Rex was. Not that it was Rex. With her powers, that would be obvious.

She glanced down at the boy.

Clone of big brother. Genetic material gathered from-

Fuck.

That was… Not at all helpful. She still had to do this though. It still wasn't Rex, just his…

Don't think about it.

She pressed the saw against her brother's neck.

“Go on,” said Bonesaw. “Kill him. What’s the matter Tats?”

Tattletale steeled herself, closed her eyes, and pushed the saw f-

A crash, Panacea had rushed for Bitch. Jig was up. Tattletale smashed Bonesaw with the saw, and sprinted for Amy. Bonesaw slid across the pavement a few feet, and-

Cover neck with saw.

Bonesaw shot two needles from her fingertips, buried them in the old saw, little droplets of venom leaking from their tips.

Mannequin stabbed Panacea’s hand with his wrist blade, and pinned it six inches into the concrete.

Panacea growled, Brutus was growing fast. Mannequin extracted another blade from his wrist, and lunged at Bitch. Tattletale flung her saw at Mannequin, just enough to throw off his aim. Instead of disemboweling her, he only sliced Bitch's side. He pulled back, lunged again, but this time Tattletale had enough time to tackle him. She went low and twisted, a perfect form tackle that would’ve made Grue proud.

Dodge right.

Mannequin’s blade missed her by centimeters, and the fucking plastic headless freak was on top of her. She dodged a couple of his thrusts, until he just stapled her fucking hand to the concrete. She couldn’t move, but…

A pair of strong jaws clasped around Mannequin, shook him up like he was a ragdoll, and then, and then…

Bonesaw pressed a button and Brutus fell. Tattletale strained against her staple, fighting through sharp twinges of pain. No luck. No way out.

Rusty saw within reach. Tear off fabric. Saw through wrist. Apply pressure to stop bleeding.

Fuck, fuck. She reached for the saw. One of Bonesaw’s spiders crept next to her, stopped with a needle next to her neck. Another spider sidled next to it. She felt a dozen needles against her skin.

“Sis, I want you to know that I don’t blame you, even though you broke the rules and failed my test,” said Bonesaw. “Because you really care about them. So I’m going to use that in my punishment.”

“You’re going to make me choose,” said Amy, her voice flat.

“No silly,” said Bonesaw. “I’m going to measure your love. Does it last minutes? Hours? Days? How long until you just get tired and give up? So let’s start with Tattletale. Then Bitch. Then the dog. And on, and on, and on. Isn’t it so beautiful? You’re going to know the exact amount of time it took you to break.”

A needle in her neck filled her veins with fire. Tattletale gasped out a breath, and Panacea was by her side, curing her, soothing her.

“Now Bitch,” said Bonesaw, sending Panacea running. “Now the cute little puppy.”

A needle stuck in Tattletale’s neck, and she felt coldness spreading. Mannequin stabbed Bitch in the side of the neck.

Will bleed out in seconds. Will die by poisoning in two minutes.

Bitch first. She had to communicate that somehow.

“Hurry,” said Bonesaw. “You can still save them both if you make the right decision.”

Panacea put down Brutus, assessed the two with her exhausted brown eye, and rushed for Bitch. Bonesaw sawed Brutus in half with her rusty saw.

“Heal the dog,” said Bonesaw. She giggled when Panacea sprinted to Tattletale’s side. “Correct, I didn’t say, ‘Bonesaw says heal the dog’.”

The numbness faded from Tattletale’s veins, and Panacea was off to heal Bitch again. Mannequin shove a blade through her stomach.

On and on it went. Bonesaw, her spiders, and Mannequin took turns murdering them, forcing Panacea to heal, heal, and heal some more. How many times? Thirty, forty? Five? It felt like months, but it may have just been a few minutes or a few decades. Panacea had dulled her nerves. Spared her the pain, at the cost of all sensation. Everything felt distant, faraway and unconnected to her. She felt a tug, somewhere deep, a little push onto existence itself.

Second Trigger. Increase in power correlates with increase in trauma.

And just like that the sensation was gone. 

“This feels a little familia-” Bonesaw gaped down at a small hole in her chest. “What the fuck?” She rushed for Rex, reached into his chest, and shoved one of his organs into the hole. “Why didn’t the fucking mesh block it?”

“Because you don’t have a Clockblocker to keep you from unwanted penetrations,” said a chirpy voice. Flechette. Another bolt punched through Bonesaw’s stomach, and another went through Mannequin’s head. 

Bonesaw’s spiders swarmed around her, and fled. A bolt took out one of Mannequin’s ankles, but it didn’t slow him much. Grue caught Flechette’s shoulder, stopping her from pursuing.

Flechette whirled on him. “We’ve got them on the run. We have to take them out while they’re vulnerable.”

“Too risky,” said Grue. “Could be leading us into a trap, and it’s not why we came here.”

Bonesaw is tinker. Incapable of filling the sprinkler system with prions without prior access. Likelihood of more boobytraps 98.3%.

She should probably say something. But… That meant going back out there. Fighting the Slaughterhouse. The monsters.

“Even if you kill them, Glaistig Uaine will just bring them back,” said Clockblocker. “We can't win the battle unless we take her out.”

Panacea healed Tattletale, moved to Bitch, and then Brutus.The ground above them shook. Muffled explosions. Taylor?

Taylor!

Fuck. Coil had used Taylor as bait for Glaistig Uaine. Alexandria couldn’t stall Glaistig Uaine because her power was fully developed and Uaine would just kill her quickly. Not Taylor. Taylor could be safely harvested for a second trigger. She was safe as long as she was alone.

Stupid.

She’d almost lost her mind, and that was with Panacea dulling her nerves. Without that, with someone actively torturing her… Maybe Eidolon would arrive in time, but at that point what would be left of Taylor?

Tattletale would never allow Taylor to second trigger.

“Grue’s right,” said Tattletale, forcing herself to be present. “Bonesaw has turned the PRT HQ into her lair.”

“Right,” said Flechette, shooting Tattletale a shy smile. “I don’t condone what Alexandria pulled to get you guys to join, but I’m happy you’re on the good side now. That stuff you figured out about Siberian was crazy, that’s better than anyone else has done.”

Finds you attractive. Testing waters. Flirting. Coping mechanism.

Panacea huddled next to what was left of Sundancer. Wasn’t pretty. Her arms and legs had been hacked off.

Stabilized.

“Grue,” said Tattletale, locating Taylor with her power, and forcing herself back into Jack Slash’s torture chamber. “Carry Sundancer. We’ve got to find Everywhere before she gets added to Glaistig Uaine’s collection.”

“No ‘thank you’?” Asked Flechette, as they jogged out of PRT headquarters and into the land of skyscrapers. “Nothing for saving your pretty little ass? Now that you’re one of the good guys, you should learn some good manners.”

“Bonesaw and Mannequin were having a contest to see who could get closer to murdering us,” said Tattletale. “Panacea probably saved my life fifty times. She’s the amazing one.”

“I saved your life four times,” said Panacea. “I wouldn’t have made it to fifty. I probably wouldn’t have made it to nine.”

“Still pretty good,” said Flechette. “I’ve heard of you ever since your debut with New Wave of course. Admired you. Felt like you’d betrayed us when you joined the Undersiders. But after what Alexandria pulled, maybe I can give you the benefit of the doubt. I still think you’re a hero, deep down.”

“Thank you so much for that,” said Panacea. “The only reason I made the change was for your approval.”

“Snippy much,” said Flechette. “Understandable, you did just have to live through the Slaughterhouse. But we’re both batting for the same team now. We should stick together. I protect you from the bad guys, and when I get roughed up you heal me.”

Panacea scowled.

“What’s wrong?” Asked Flechette.

“Nothing,” said Panacea.

“She doesn’t like being in the frontlines,” Tattletale explained, perking up a little. “Doesn’t think she’s very good at it.”

“You stood up to Bonesaw,” said Flechette. “That’s better than a lot of people.”

“Seconded,” said Regent.

“Thanks Regent,” said Panacea, smiling. “It means a lot.”

Flechette huffed.

Oh for the love of god.

Lisa got Amy’s attention, and mimed the words, ‘Shoot your shot.’

Amy frowned, and glanced at Flechette. ‘Really?’ She mouthed.

Lisa nodded, and Amy gave Flechette a considering look. She frowned and shook her head.

Imagines girlfriend will have looks of a supermodel. At least 5’8’’. Rich and famous and beautiful and will be absolutely devoted to her. Failing that, wants to be with an S-rank cape, with above average beauty, and a net worth of at least ten million dollars. Doesn’t consider Flechette girlfriend material.

Really Amy?

Lisa mouthed the words, ‘Look in a mirror.’

Amy huffed indignantly. ‘Why should I have to settle?’

‘Life’s not perfect.’

‘It’s not what I really want.’

‘Life’s not perfect.’

Amy considered.

“Hey Flechette,” said Amy. “Want to um… Go um… Would you like to um…”

“Could you show me around the city?” Asked Flechette.

“Great thinking Felchettio,” said Clockblocker. “But I doubt your linguistics will be enough to get Panacea batting for the right team again, no matter how cunning. Fugly Bob’s is the place to be, and then you can-”

A muffled, animalistic scream stopped the banter. Taylor. Grue coated them in darkness, and they closed in on the fight.

“I’ve got eyes on Glaistig Uaine’s back,” said Grue. “She’s hovering above the skyscrapers, maybe a hundred yards up. I think Taylor’s down below, trapped in a metal box. Flechette, do you think you can hit Uaine?”

“Sure,” said Flechette. “Part of my power is perfect accuracy. But if she sees it coming she can dodge or block.”

“Take the shot,” said Grue. “It’s risky, but so are all our other options. We’ve only got one chance to take her by surprise.”

Something was off.

Metal box can’t trap Taylor. Power nullifier present.

“Grue, what’s near Taylor?” Asked Tattletale.

“Nothing important,” said Grue.

“Let me see,” said Tattletale. A hole in the darkness appeared, allowing Tattletale to survey the battlefield. Nothing was really out of place, surprising little damage to the roads and high rise buildings. Little Miss Necromancer was in the sky, but was still immune to Tattletale’s powers. There were two ghosts near Uaine. A trump/blaster and a healer, but no sign of a power nullifier.

Grue was right. The only thing next to the locker was a friendly ghost, a nice guy.

Ghost is power nullifier.

That couldn’t be right. The ghost was nice. He would never harm anyone.

Ghost is a combination of Nice Guy and Hatchet Face. Former Slaughterhouse members.

Tattletale frowned. But the ghost couldn’t be a threat.

Ghost is a threat. Stranger effect.

Bonesaw must have broken something inside her. Turned Tattletale into a sociopath, hungering the blood of innocent ghosts.

Just a ghost. Even if friendly, would weaken Glaistig Uaine to revive.

That was… True. That was true.

“We’ve got some stranger danger,” said Tattletale. “Flechette, I need you to shoot where I point. Grue, keep the darkness up in front of her, if Flechette sees the target she won’t be capable of hurting him due to his power.”

“Or you can let me take down Uaine,” said Flechette. “If we take her down we’ll have plenty of time to save Everywhere later.”

“We save Everywhere first,” said Tattletale.

“You’re emotionally compromised,” said Flechette. “Probably exhausted. We can’t beat Uaine in a protracted battle. You think it’s a trap and it probably is, but it’s still our only chance at-”

Amy’s hand was on Flechette’s cheek. “Do as Tattletale says.”

Flechette nodded with a blush.

The power nullifier ghost vanished. Which left her to choose between two paths. Kill Glaistig Uaine or save Taylor Hebert.

Lisa pointed at the locker.

“Fire.”

Without turning, Glaistig Uaine sent a barrage of lasers at them.

“Clock, shield.”

Clockblocker froze an oversized umbrella, and lasers turned the street around them to rubble.

ooOoo

Out of the locker. Arms wrapped around me. Trying to strangle me. Suffocate me. I scratched, clawed, but they held me tight.

“A wise decision, Dotish Negotiator,” chanted the chorus of devils. “But wiser still would have been to run from the battle, rather than save the Crownless Administrator. It is foolish to risk the Princess Shaper for a common faerie. With the Waifish Sting under your control, I have little choice but to collect your faerie’s before they’ve reached maturity.”

Saved? Crownless?

They’d come for me. I’d pushed them away, tried to take the devil on alone, but they’d saved me when I’d needed them the most. It anchored me, brought me back from madness.

I returned my best friend’s hug, and turned to stare up at Glaistig Uaine, floating in the sky, surrounded by dead puppets. She had one of the strongest abilities in the world, and it blinded her to the obvious reality. My power, the one that really mattered, had gotten me out of the locker she’d stuffed me in.

The Undersiders were my crown.

Chapter Text

Glaistig Uaine was illuminated by a sea of stars, perched atop the spire of the city’s tallest skyscraper. She was well outside my stamp sense, but I could still see her in the moonlight. She had three ghosts floating near her: a robed man with a blindfold and nails through his hands, wrists, and upper arms; a short squat man in sandals; and a four-legged woman with two different sized arms. Uaine’s glittering green and black cloak faded like mist, replaced with armor, a shield, a sickle, and two massive luminous wings. Which ghost had done that? I’d need to match each ghost with their respective power if we were to find a path to victory.

“Regent, Bitch,” I said. “Your powers aren’t gonna help much in this fight. Find Vista, Trickster, Aegis, Rune, or any other movers and bring them here. Bring as many reinforcements as you can.”

I stamped Regent’s scepter and sent them off. The Faerie Queen tracked their movement, but didn’t attack. She just let them go. A mind game? Did she not see us as threats? Whatever the case, I was grateful they weren’t harmed.

“Princess Shaper, I will only deal with you as an equal. I am willing to protect the faerie’s in your court: the Dotish Negotiator, Crownless Administrator, Caitiff in the Darkness, and Spaceless Dilator, from the Broadcast Officer,” chanted Glaistig Uaine, her voice combined with hundreds of murdered shadow puppets. “In exchange for your Waifish Sting.”

“Waifish Sting is Flechette,” Tattletale translated. “Amy is the Princess Shaper and the Broadcast Officer is Jack Slash.”

Flechette fluttered her eyes at Panacea. “It would be an honor to sacrifice my life to protect you, my queen.”

I frowned.

“I ordered her to master Flechette,” Tattletale said quickly.

That wasn’t what I was concerned about. There were two things. I’d fought Glaistig Uaine, or I’d tried to fight her and hadn’t even really been able to do that. I didn’t think we could beat her. If that really was the case, wouldn’t it be smart to take the Faerie Queen up on her offer? Get her on our side, and the balance of power swung significantly. Victory over the Slaughterhouse would be assured. Sure it would make me a hypocrite, but that seemed insignificant compared to assuring the safety of the Undersiders.

The other thing to consider was why the Faerie Queen wanted Flechette? It gave credence to the idea that Flechette could pop the Siberian, but was it possible she could do more than that? What if Flechette was the only one who could defeat Glaistig Uaine?

If so, then…

“You might just be the most important of us all,” I told Flechette. “Don’t sacrifice yourself so easily. I won’t.”

“Princess Shaper,” chanted Glaistig Uaine, “I hear your paupers plotting. Scheming and conniving. I will negotiate only with nobility. Not rabble. I treat you as an equal, but if you demand war I will give you war. I will collect your entire court, not just your Waifish Sting.”

Two of the ghosts around Glaistig Uaine had been replaced. The man who’d been tortured remained, a wispy woman had joined them, along with a really crazy looking one, wearing an inappropriate costume. The vulgar woman’s costume exposed more than it covered up, and had been warped by Glaistig Uaine until costume and body were one and the same. I didn’t like the look of the ghost at all.

“She’s baiting us,” I said. “Trying to get us to take a shot at her.”

“I agree,” said Tattletale. “Especially because whenever I try to get a read on Uaine, my power starts giving me the backstory of Mister Nail over there instead.”

“I’m guessing some kind of defense that sends the attack back on us,” I said. “I’m going to put a stamp on the ground. If the attack reflects back on us, don’t run. I’ll teleport you to safety as long as you stay close.”

Flechette nodded, charged a bolt, loaded it into the crossbow, and took aim at Glaistig Uaine. The charged bolt raced through the sky, almost too quick to see, ignoring gravity and wind resistance. The vulgar woman reacted, created a circle of rippling air. When the bolt struck the barrier, Flechette dropped to her knees, showering the rest of us in her blood. Panacea was already doing what she could to heal the hole in Flechette’s chest, but she’d be out for a minute. In a fight like this, a minute may as well be a year.

Blasters wouldn’t work on Glaistig Uaine.

They’d work on us though. A barrage of lasers rained down on us, forcing Clockblocker to freeze an emergency thermal blanket to shield us.

“Flechette can hurt her,” said Tattletale, her thinker power working again. She had to shout to be heard, as lasers blasted the concrete around us into gravel and tar. “She’ll kill Flechette if we give her an opening. The rest of us she’ll seek to isolate and torture until we second trigger. She’d prefer to leave Amy unharmed. If we lose, call her a human so she kills you quick.”

I peeked out from our shield. Glaistig Uaine had replaced her ghosts again. Nail Ghost for countering Tattletale, a ghost with a ceremonial sword and gun, and a tall ghost in black that was whispering to his queen, drawing Uaine’s attention. The Vulgar Woman wasn’t active. For just a moment, the Faerie Queen was vulnerable.

“Load it,” I said, handing Flechette her crossbow, and memorizing Uaine’s position. “Grue, cover us in darkness.”

When she handed me back the crossbow, I was surrounded in darkness, I aimed the bow as well as I could at Glaistig Uaine and her ghosts, stamped the charged bolt, and fired.

My aim was off by several degrees, but that was alright. I corrected for the error when I teleported a couple dozen of Bakuda’s bombs right at her. And when the stamp got close enough, I would teleport her and that Vulgar Woman to the bottom of the atlantic before any of the bombs made contact with that shimmering reflector shield.

Didn’t get the chance. Glaistig Uaine summoned a fox-faced shadow and vanished out of my senses. The night sky was lit up with a series of explosions which tore through a couple skyscrapers, dusted a few roads, but also took down two of the ghosts that had been atop the building.

Clockblocker whistled. “It’s a lot more fun when you’re on our side.”

The tops of the skyscrapers I’d cut through crashed into the ground like an atomic bomb, raising a mushroom cloud of dust.

Something popped into existence twenty feet behind us.

“You’ll pay for your impudence Administrator,” said Glaistig Uaine, the fox-faced teleporter by her side. Two shadows emerged.

“Shit,” said Grue, covering us in darkness.

I stamped the ground, opened up a geyser under Uaine, but she’d vanished before the spray made contact. I sensed arms, tentacles bursting from the ground, wriggling towards us. I blasted them with Bakuda’s bombs: disintegrated some, crystallized others, but there were always more. When they got too close I tried to spray them, but couldn’t stop their onslaught. Until they stilled, hardened, and even my strongest geysers couldn’t harm them. We were fucked. But they didn’t move? Why not?

Oh. They’d been put on pause. Clockblocked . The traitorous little shit had frozen one of Uaine’s strongest ghosts.

Hehehehehe. Hahahahaha. Oh my god.

I let out a breath.

“It’s a lot more fun when you’re on our si-”

The breath rushed out of me. Flung by an impossibly strong force. Flying above the second story, would be dead when I hit the ground. Shit, shit, shit. Had let a brute sneak up on me. Stamped Everywhere’s mask. Teleported to the inside of the Atlantic Portal.

Felt my Brockton Stamp tumbling across the pavement, rushing farther and farther from the battlefield. Leaving my friends vulnerable, and making it impossible to teleport back to Brockton without being grated into shreds by the pavement. I stamped fabric over my hand, jerked it downward, and teleported one of Panacea’s stingers a few millimeters above my mask. Pinned it to the concrete. Restamped Armsmaster’s bomb casket, and teleported back to the battlefield.

Looked around. Powers not working. Couldn’t sense anything, except the ghost next to me. Where were the threa-

I let out a hiss. A hatchet was struck halfway through my calf. Why had he done that? It must’ve been a mistake. I fought through the pain and noticed a bubble of darkness, inside a crater two blocks down.

“I need you to carry me,” I told the Nice Ghost, pointing to my friends.

He ripped his hatchet from my calf, and swu-

Popped. He’d… Been a stranger. Tattletale had shot him with one of Flechette’s charged bolts.

Glaistig Uaine let out a ragged scream above me. She summoned another shadow. Not dark like the others. Monochrome. Gray.

Fuck. My friends. Had to protect them. I ra- tripped and fell. My calf had given out. Couldn’t walk. Couldn’t move.

But I could teleport. I stamped the ground, teleported to the Atlantic Portal, back to Brockton at the edge of my stamp’s range, restamped the ground and repeated. Flickered forward faster than I could have run anyway. It took me a few seconds to travel two blocks, felt my Undersiders get back in range. I hurled one of Bakuda’s bombs at Gray Boy.

It detonated, turned him into dust, but with a monochrome flicker he was back. Still, it had given my friends enough time to rush out of danger. Most of them.

Flechette was too wounded to retreat, and Panacea too frightened. I never should’ve brought her to the battlefield. She wasn’t ready.

“Fuck you,” said Flechette, lifting her crossbow.

Gray Boy smirked, and pointed at his forehead.

She pulled the trigger and an eight foot gray bubble enveloped her and Amy.

I flickered forward. Maybe, maybe if I got my stamp within ten feet of them I could teleport them. My power allowed me to cut through space, why couldn’t it cut through time? I put a stamp right next to the gray bubble, but sensed nothing. It was as if they were in a different world, a different universe.

Maybe… Maybe… I pounded on the gray bubble, but it didn’t pop. Just saw Amy trembling, Flechette raise her crossbow, again. And again. And again. Forever.

“She got him,” Tattletale whispered into my ear. “They won’t be tortured, and they’re in there together. For a Gray Boy loop, it’s as good as you could hope for.”

I shoved her off me.

I’d killed Lung and felt nothing. I’d killed Oni Lee, nothing. When I’d murdered Bakuda in cold blood, fully aware that she had a deadman’s switch I’d felt nothing. My actions had directly led to the deaths of dozens of good innocent people. Hundreds. And yet I’d never once felt a thing. Not a thing.

I didn’t even like Amy. She’d been a liability, a loose cannon and a rapist, and I didn’t know Flechette at all. So why? In the middle of the most important battle I’d ever fought of all times? It was ridiculous that I should…

I didn’t have time for these… Whatever they were. I’d deal with them after, if there was an after.

I wiped something off my cheek, and blinked the dust out of my eyes.

“I have no idea how I’m going to do it,” I said, turning to glare up at Glaistig Uaine. She stood atop the burning remains of the skyscraper I’d shelled halfway to the ground, her luminous wings making her look like an angel. “But I’m going to make you regret that.”

“I already do,” Glaistig Uaine chanted, her voices sorrowful. “My aim was not the Princess Shaper, nor even her Waifish Sting. Only the Dotish Negotiator deserves banishment. This has been a regrettable battle. Wasteful. Give me the Dotish Negotiator, and we shall have a peace that lasts three hundred years.”

“Yeah,” said Clockblocker. “You can fuck right off with that bullshit.”

I flicked off the Faerie Queen.

Tattletale and Grue were silent.

“Even should our battle resume,” said Glaistig Uaine imperiously. “I will merely collect you Spaceless Dilator. But Dotish Negotiator, I will allow you to drift. Will you force me to take your comrades into my collection, or shall you atone for the crimes you have committed to my Flock?”

“Our dear Gray Boy pointed at his forehead,” said Tattletale, shooting Glaistig Uaine a vulpine smile. “Doesn’t seem like your faeries are all that happy, does it? So maybe you should claim my power, turn me into one of your freaky little slaves if you really wanna punish me. I mean, having to play house with a middle-aged woman cosplaying as a twelve year old faerie really seems like the worst kind of hell to me. No wonder they all go insane.”

“You live up to your name, Dotish Negotiator,” said Glaistig Uaine. “You speak with confidence, although you know nothing. A shallow imitation of the Broadcast Officer…”

Something was off. Why talk in the middle of battle? Why not just wipe us out? It was almost as if she was stalling. But she had us in the open, and… 

The ghost that Clockblocker had frozen, the man controlling the tentacles, was still on pause. Glaistig Uaine was stalling, waiting to get him back.

How long had it been? Was it possible she didn’t have access to any of her ghosts because we’d killed two of them?

No. There were two ghosts hovering beside her. A ghost in armor, and the Vulgar Woman. The one who could conjure a barrier which reflected the damage from an attack back onto you. We couldn’t attack Uaine with a blasting power until we’d gotten rid of the Vulgar Woman.

At the edge of my stamp sense I noticed that Regent and Bitch returned with reinforcements. They hadn’t gotten Vista or Trickster, which would have won us the fight, but they’d gotten Aegis and Kid Win, who could be useful. They were still a block away.

I teleported stingers into the pavement in front of them, drawing a little arrow towards us. If Aegis and Kid Win could connect a string to the Vulgar Woman, Clockblocker could pause her, and then I’d be free to send the fucking faerie to the moon with a giant geyser.

Instead of following orders, I sensed Kid Win pointing a giant cannon at Glaistig Uaine. What was he planning on… Oh. I sent a paralyzing stinger into his neck before he got himself killed.

Glaistig Uaine frowned, and switched out her armored ghost for one in a gorilla costume. Aegis flew and deposited Regent next to us, and Rachel arrived riding a transformed Brutus shortly after.

I took a spool of thread from Clockblocker’s waist, tied a quarter around the front of it, stamped the quarter, and handed it to Aegis.

“Get this on the Vulgar Woman,” I said, “Keep it pointed at her. If you keep within ten feet of the quarter, I’ll be able to teleport you away from anything she sends your way.”

“Yes’m,” said Aegis, taking the string, flying off.

I’d have liked to give him more details, more of an explanation, but we didn’t have time for it. 

I teleported to the Atlantic Portal, and waited for Tattletale’s signal.

ooOoo

As soon as Aegis had flown ten feet the Forty-Year-Old Faerie started blasting. Tats threw up a hand sign, and Tay Tay made Aegis pop out of existence, and the Forty-Year-Old Faerie’s lasers passed through where he’d been harmlessly. They kept going, hit the third story of a high rise a few blocks away, annihilated it, drilled through the base of another highrise, finally hit the ground, obliterated half a street from existence, and caved in the other half once the laser started tunneling underground. Now that was a damn blaster, holy shit.

Tattletale whistled and laughed, because otherwise she’d be crying. What the fuck had they gotten themselves into?

Tattletale signaled for Tay Tay to send Aegis back. The Forty-Year-Old Faerie kept blasting, but Aegis flickered out of the way of each laser. The barrage was taking its toll on the city though. Skyscrapers toppled around her, the heat from the battle making the tar in the concrete boil, smoke and smog darkening the air, even as the fires around her lit up the darkness.

Aegis got closer and closer, almost within that ten foot victory condition where Tay Tay could send the Queen to the bottom of the Atlantic. Then the Middle Aged Fae brought out her trump card.

A Case 53? Tats saw a point source the size of a grapefruit.

Creates Matter. A-

Blades flowed out of the source, almost as quickly as the lasers. Taylor opened up a geyser on the quarter, but the blades kept coming, she sent a dozen of Bakuda’s bombs at them, but that barely dented them. The blades were replaced faster than she could destroy them.

Uaine’s strongest attack. Did not use earlier because it takes a lot of energy. Uaine does not care about fight. Waiting for Eidolon. Stall with Clockblocker, and Uaine will move onto easier targets.

“Shit,” said Clockblocker, freezing Aegis. The frozen hero was swallowed up by an expanding sea of blades. Tattletale was already throwing up the thermal blanket on top of them.

ooOoo

I couldn’t teleport Aegis thanks to Clockblocker. I could teleport to him, and applied stamps all along the wire, flickering back to the Undersiders, a storm of expanding blades at my back.

Clockblocker had fucked up. I could’ve teleported Aegis! I could’ve fucking teleported him, but now he was stuck inside the attack and he’d be dead the moment he unfroze. Fucking tortured for eternity, just like-

A mistake. What next? Clock, Tattletale, Grue, and Regent were already setting up a tent using the thermal shielding. Good. Bitch and Brutus were running from the blades. Bad. They couldn’t outrun them. Kid Win was still knocked out from earlier, bad too, and my fault.

Flickered to Bitch and sent her to the Atlantic. Couldn’t teleport Brutus. Too heavy.

Stamped hand, and sent a geyser at Brutus. Shot him away as fast as I could. Didn’t know if it’d kill him, didn’t know if it’d even get him out of range of the attack. Flickered to Kid Win and sent him to the Atlantic. Sound of steel slashing metal on my back. Undersiders safe in frozen tent. Stamped a handful of quarters in my pocket, threw them at the tent, and teleported to the Atlantic Portal.

One of the quarters got through the blades, parked itself close enough that I could teleport the Undersiders to safety if things got too bad. I deactivated the extraneous stamps as quickly as I could, my stamp sense in Brockton overtaken by blades. Surrounded by containment foam and darkness, in a tiny metal crate in the bottom of an ocean.

A pit had formed in my stomach. Felt something coming up in my throat. Hard to breathe.

Bitch howled. Sad, mournful, angry. Undersiders still moving inside their tent, Uaine’s blades not getting through.

What about Amy and Flechette? How had I gotten them killed? No, killed would have been better than what happened, they were in hell because of me, let’s not soften the consequences of my failure. Maybe if I’d… If I’d just left the stamp by them, just let myself hit the- no that would’ve killed me. No, I should’ve seen the ghost who’d flung me coming. Should’ve prepped for it, expected it. Who had it been? Krieg. It could’ve been fucking Krieg, and I could’ve just teleported him to the botto-

Bitch grabbed me. Held me tight. Angry. That’s right, I’d gotten Brutus killed too.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, as if that would do any good. “I’m sorry.”

“Saved me,” said Bitch. “Thanks.”

I sniffed. Fucking containment foam. Getting in my eyes. The Undersiders were fine, but were surrounded by blades. How long could Uaine keep up the attack?

Maybe forever. She was Eidolon 2.0. Closer to an Endbringer than we were to her. I shouldn’t have-

No, couldn’t think like that. Not until it was over.

Did I have enough space for everyone? No, not right now. But maybe if I got rid of Bakuda’s bombs. I needed them though, they were our best offensive weapon. With them I could guarantee victory if Glaistig Uaine wandered within 200 feet of me. They’d kept her from getting too close, kept her relying on blasters, as fucked up as it was, we probably hadn’t seen a fraction of what Uaine was capable of.

Wait. Why had I shot a geyser at her in that one moment she’d teleported behind us, instead of flicking one of Bakuda’s bombs right into her skull? I could’ve won, should’ve…

Amy, Flechette, and Brutus, they’d all died because I’d done the wrong thing at the critical point. I had to beat her. Make it mean something. Or else what was the point of all their sacrifices?

Tattletale, Regent, Grue, and Clockblocker were pounding on the walls of their clockblocked tent. Blades still surrounded them.

I teleported the rest of Bakuda’s bombs to the hurricane of blades, and brought my Undersiders to safety.

“Breathe slow,” I said softly. “We don’t have much oxygen here. We’re going to need to make it last.”

“Four minutes of oxygen until we suffocate,” said Tattletale. “Thanks for the save, by the way, she was superheating the concrete, boiling us alive.”

“We have to go back,” said Clockblocker. “Aegis is still back there.”

“But do we though?” Asked Regent.

The hurricane of blades subsided. Cleared. Puffed to nothingness. We could teleport back. Fight on.

“We’ve only got four minutes of oxygen left,” I said. “We need to use that time to figure out how we’re going to put the vulgar woman on pause, figure out how we’re going to get a stamp within ten feet of Uaine when she’s got that fox-faced teleporter, and then we go back and take out the Faerie Queen. I missed a killshot on her earlier because I hadn’t thought things through enough, I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Or, you could open up a portal,” said Tattletale. “Let some oxygen from Brockton Bay flow here, let some of that containment foam flow to Brockton Bay. Truth is, our dear middle-aged fairy princess isn’t doing so hot. She’s here for Eidolon and we wore her out. Once she calms down, she’s gonna realize she needs to recharge her battery, and she’s gonna go running for the Siberian, looking for some prey to fill her up.”

“And you’re just gonna let her,” said Clockblocker. “Our job was to stall her.”

“Die, you mean,” said Regent.

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Grue. “We’ve done enough. Let her be somebody else’s problem.”

“Aegis is next to her,” said Clockblocker. “He’s dead if we don’t do something about it.”

“And so are the rest of us, if we go back there,” said Tattletale. “Fuck that. I vote no.”

“Seconded,” said Regent.

“I’m out as well,” said Grue.

“She killed Brutus,” said Bitch.

“She’ll kill Aegis,” said Clockblocker.

So it was up to me then?

“You couldn’t have beaten her,” said Tattletale. “Even with the bombs. You’re thinking you could’ve killed her if you’d teleported one of them into her. It would’ve been close, but you’re forgetting that the bombs require you to jerk your arm. The geysers are a little quicker, and she was too quick to be hit with those.”

“Then I should’ve reacted faster,” I said. “I knew she had a bunch of powers, I should’ve been expecting her to teleport. Should’ve been ready for it. It’s basic tactics.”

“She used a power you’d never seen before in the middle of battle,” said Tattletale. “There’s no way you could’ve expected it. We fought. We did the best we could. We still lost, and I don’t think there’s any way we could’ve won. Maybe with Trickster or Vista, but we didn’t have Trickster or Vista, and we still don’t have them. This isn’t a battle we can win.”

“We could’ve,” I said. “If I’d been faster. Smarter. Stronger. I will be; next time. We’re going back.”

“No,” said a raspy voice. “You won’t. Armsmaster here. I’ve been debriefed on your mission and overheard the conversation. Everywhere, I’m ordering you to stand down.”

“But-”

“Not asking,” said Armsmaster. “Ordering. You wanted me in charge, keep you from making mistakes, here I am, keeping you from making a mistake.”

“But if I don’t beat her, then Amy will have sacrif-”

“The odds that you defeat Glaistig Uaine at this point are infinitesimal,” said Armsmaster. “She’ll kill you, collect you, damaging our overall position.”

“And what were the odds of her damaging any of the ghosts?” Asked Clockblocker. “This is fucking Everywhere you’re talking to. Your prediction software doesn’t mean shit when it comes to her. She pulls miracles out of her ass on the regular.”

“Irrelevant,” said Armsmaster. “I’m giving the orders. Follow them… Please?”

There was a weakness to his voice. I could take command, if I wanted to.

“Seriously,” said Regent. “Please.”

“Please,” said Tattletale.

“I’ll allow you to give me orders,” I said. Obedience meant giving up on our fight with Glaistig Uaine. Losing. Letting a bully win. It went against everything I stood for.

But. I sensed the Undersiders. Bitch, Grue, Regent, and Clockblocker. Tattletale. I couldn’t fail them like I’d failed Amy.

“Everywhere,” said Armsmaster sternly. “That’s not how you speak to a superi-” He paused, like he was considering his next words carefully. “I’ll take it. Let’s go over the mission. Consider this your first debriefing.”

I felt myself grow more and more indignant. Outraged by the ridiculousness- the unfairness- of the whole thing. I mean really? So I’d damaged a few skyscrapers, so what? Did anyone really give a shit about collateral damage?  What a waste of ti-

Wait. Seriously, wait.

How much was being deducted from my paycheck?

“Welcome to being a hero.”

Author’s Note: I’m pretty sure that Glaistig Uaine wouldn’t have access to some of her powers if I were trying to keep everything strictly canon compliant. I think she gets the Queen of Swords and King of Cups in the Scion fight, but keeping track of when she got each power would have been a nightmare. 

Chapter Text

We found an almost unrecognizable Brockton Bay when I teleported us back from the Atlantic. The grid of torn up streets and cleaved skyscrapers looked like someone had thrown downtown into a blender, a mixture of giant hunks of concrete haphazardly strewn about, bent and twisted steel rebar, shattered glass, and spurting brown sewage. A fog of smog and smoke made it hard to see more than ten or so feet in front of you. Still I could make out the outline of two capes, floating around something. 

A gray bubble came into view as I got closer, as did the two capes. Aegis. And Victoria. They were probing for weaknesses. Tattletale gave my arm a squeeze.

“It’s not your faul-”

I flickered closer, got a better view of her face, refused to look away from the people I’d hurt by… By… 

By my… Mis…

My chest hurt. Ached. Actually, my entire body hurt. My thoughts felt foggy, smoky, like they were being blocked by something.

Clockblocker and Kid Win rushed past me, scooped up Aegis in a hug, and the three of them all had a moment together.

Victoria kept floating around the gray bubble, almost like she hadn’t realized we were here, as she watched Amy loop again, and again, and again.

I didn’t know what to say. Victoria wasn’t crying, she wasn’t yelling or screaming, her face was blank. Anger would have been better. Even sorrow would have been better than the husk she’d become.

“It was my fault,” I told Victoria.

“She thought I hated her,” said Victoria emotionlessly, staring into the loop. “And maybe I did. On some level I always knew who you were, and I knew what kind of… It doesn’t matter, does it? She’s in there, and there’s nothing anyone can do. It’s done.”

“Blame me,” I said. “I’m the reason she’s in there. It’s my fault.”

“She was terrified of fighting. Terrified of conflict,” said Victoria. “I caused her to trigger.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I forced her into this.”

Victoria didn’t look from the bubble. 

“She saved a lot of people,” said Aegis. “She died a hero.”

“She and Flechette took down Gray Boy,” said Clockblocker.

“For good,” said Tattletale. “They neutralized Glaistig Uaine’s scariest power. We can start going after her again. We can go after all of the Slaughterhouse. It’s only a matter of time until they’re brought down. And that’s thanks to Amy.”

Victoria stared into the bubble.

“She asked out Flechette before the battle,” said Tattletale. “She was turning things around. Figuring out how she could be a good person.”

“It’s done,” said Victoria. “She’s gone.”

I walked up to the bubble. Frozen, like a solid. I applied a stamp to it, which shouldn’t have been possible, but the bubble registered to my power as a surface, kind of. The inside though, wasn’t there. Not opaque like a solid, not empty, it simply wasn’t there. I couldn’t sense Amy and Flechette, even though they were mere feet away, couldn’t teleport them out. It was like they were in a different universe.

Could I teleport between earth aleph and earth bet, if I had active stamps in different universes? Was it possible, if I had just kept the stamp near them, that I’d have been able to teleport them out?

“Yes,” said Tattletale. “Maybe? I can’t say for sure, but my powers think so. But it doesn’t matter. You didn’t give up the stamp next to us willingly, you’d been sent flying, and if you didn’t teleport to the Atlantic Portal you’d be dead, which still wouldn’t have saved us from Gray Boy.”

“I could’ve,” I said. “If I’d replaced the stamp in the Atlantic, instead of the stamp next to all of you, I could’ve teleported back to the rest of you, and still been able to protect you from the Gray Boy. If I’d just been better, I could’ve saved everyone. It’s my fault.”

My words didn’t reach Victoria. Didn’t trigger any emotional response from her. I’m not sure that anything could anymore. Her world was as gray as Amy’s.

Tattletale sighed. “The Middle-aged Fae went after Siberian. Do we follow her or go after Crawler?”

“Or do the sensible thing and skip out of town?” Asked Regent.

I gave one last look at the gray bubble. Recognized it for what it was. A mixture of arrogance and bad planning. I should have insisted on working with Trickster or Vista, and at least one mover, someone who could’ve made my best plans against Glaistig Uaine a reality. Instead I’d rushed in alone, and only survived because the rest of the Undersiders had bailed me out. It had cost me Amy, Flechette, and Brutus.

I had to be better.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s go after Crawler. Free up the capes that are fighting him. We’re going to need everyone, all working together, to take down the Queen.”

Aegis joined us, Victoria didn’t. She stayed, staring at the gray bubble, forever more. Broken. Broken like me, after… not after Emma had turned on me, not after the first month of bullying? The flute? When Juliet had pretended to be my friend? No. Later. Not even when Sophia had shoved me into the locker, it had been when nobody had helped me, when I realized that-

I’d caused that in somebody else, all because I hadn’t been able to ge-

I’d make things right. Free them, somehow. But it wouldn’t do anyone any good for me to keep ruminating, and let Glaistig Uaine beat me twice.

According to Tattletale, Crawler was attacking the PRT headquarters, which was hidden underneath an abandoned parking lot. We were only a few blocks away, but the travel was hard, after the battle.

They traversed by foot as they could, me flickering by their side, Aegis carrying us as he had to.

Downtown looked like it had been firebombed. The streets and sidewalks were littered with craters and holes straight that had drilled into the aquifer Brockton Bay had been built on top of. Muddy ponds full of piss and shit were bubbling over shattered streets. Even beyond that, the quickest route to HQ was blocked by a skyscraper that had toppled over, and the alternative routes to our left and right were choked out by fire.

But we were capes. We got to HQ just fine.

“Jesus Christ, she looks bad. How much time does she have left?” Asked a PRT Officer, as soon as we arrived at the entrance. “Scratch that, it doesn’t matter, let’s get her to Othala.”

I let out a surprised squawk when the Officer scooped me into his muscular arms, and carried me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He made a series of random turns, each corner marked with a mannequin, each step urgent, until he found a room with a cape in a red skin tight bodysuit. He gently laid me on an examination table, blood from my wound smearing the sheet of protective paper.

“Shit,” said Othala, her face growning paler and paler as she unwrapped the blood-soaked strip of cloth Tattletale had wrapped around my leg. “Shit, shit, shit. I just gave out a power to Trickster, so I can’t give her a power for at least 30 seconds. And even after, I don’t know how long it’ll take to heal her.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m not gonna die anytime soon, and I’m thinking clearly enough. I haven’t gone into shock, I can still be useful.”

“Half your fucking calf has been hacked off,” said Othala. “You wrapped it, but didn’t secure it. There’s no bone connecting the top and bottom half, and barely any muscle. One wrong move and you’ll tear an artery and bleed out in seconds.”

Fine. Then I just wouldn’t make a wrong move. I slid off the examination table, crawled to one of the chairs in the room, tried to tear off a chunk of its leg, failed pathetically, so I teleported it to the Atlantic Portal, put a stamp on my hand, flicked my wrist, and teleported the chair into the wall. It split off into three pieces, and I secured a straight piece which had once been part of the chair’s leg, and tied it against the wound everyone was so worried about, making a perfectly workable splint.

“I’m good,” I said, ignoring the blood gushing out of my calf. “Where’s Crawler?”

“You cannot be serious,” said Othala. “Half your leg is torn off. I’m surprised you’re even still conscious.”

I rolled my eyes. What a fucking drama queen. I should’ve known that a neonazi would be a total pain to work with. Apparently, if I wasn’t in absolutely perfect condition she wouldn’t give me medical clearance. Amy would never have done that, she had understood that in battle things got messy, and my team needed me out there with them.

“You need to find Panacea,” said Othala. “Wherever she is. You’re right, we do need you out there, we’ve lost too many, but my power isn’t going to work fast enough to get you back into combat shape anytime soon. It would take hours for them to completely heal that big a wound. But maybe we can stabilize you and send you back out. Maybe ten minutes, but I don’t know if they’ll last that much longer.”

“So it’s not going well,” said Aegis, the Undersiders by his side. “You can give out powers right?”

“Superstrength, superspeed, invincibility, regeneration, and flight,” said Othala. “My regeneration is the weakest of the abilities, the invincibility is probably the strongest.”

“Who’ve we lost?” Asked Clockblocker.

“Sere is dead,” said Othala. “But I was able to stabilize Vista, Uber, and Leet before they lost too much blood. They’re unconscious, and in a waiting room for Panacea. None of you have the firepower to turn the battle, the best thing you can do is go find Panacea and bring her here. And oh, Bitch, better late than never I suppose. Still better than Triumph.”

Tattletale put a hand on her head- or well, a stump. “Great. Great. You didn’t see a little girl with him did you?”

“What happened to your hand?”

“‘Tis but a scratch,” said Tattletale, giving the witless question all the consideration it deserved.

“A scratch? Your fucking thumb’s gone.”

“Is that really what we need to be worrying about?” Asked Tattletale. “God, Coil is such an incompetent douche! Fuck! Now I’ve got to deal with the goddam mayor, and…”

I tuned out Tattletale’s insane ramblings, and focused on the problem at leg.

“Does superspeed come with sped up perception?” I asked.

“What?” Asked Othala. “You’re getting regeneration, so it doesn’t matter. Your wounds aren’t a fucking joke, you’re liable to pass out any second, and my power only works if you’re conscious.”

“Nope,” said Tattletale. “Superspeed doesn’t speed up your perception. Flight’s your best option.”

“Why are you encouraging her?” Asked Othala.

“You really want us to go into a fight with Crawler without Everywhere?” Asked Kid Win.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Asked Clockblocker.

“What’s wrong with you people?” Asked Othala.

“Haven’t you heard?” Asked Tattletale, shooting her a vulpine smile. “We’re the motherfucking Undersiders, and we run this motherfucking city!”

Othala didn’t like that answer much.

We ignored the hysterical neonazi’s meltdown, and formed a plan. And Othala did prove her worth when she gave me flight instead of wasting everyone’s time with an unnecessary regeneration. A crew of PRT Officers led us down a hallway, took a right, down another hallway, to a stairway. Inside was Crawler, two sets of stairs below, slithering down, down, down.

He resembled a six legged beast the size of a van. His body was black and iridescent, covered in armor, and spines and bristling hair everywhere else. A hundred solid-black eyes ran along the entire length of his body. His four rear limbs had one large limb each that forked into scimitar-like claws, with multiple smaller sets of tentacles accompanying them. Bits of concrete boiled, sizzled, crumbled, from his acidic saliva.

I’d chosen the wrong power. I’d expected a more open area. Another mistake.

“Eidolon?” Asked a voice from below. Trickster. “Great. We fucking need you.”

“Tag me in,” I said.

Trickster swapped our positions.

“Fuck!” Trickster shouted from above. “It’s just you guys.”

I felt the same down below. Crawler snapped the neck of a griffon-like pterodactyl thing. And just like that it was just me and Miss Militia. A cloud of darkness blotted around Crawler. He stumbled downwards, wriggling closer and closer.

“Trickster,” I shouted. “Swap with Miss Militia. She’ll take out the stairways above us. Allow us to trap him in concrete.”

And just like that I was standing next to another teleporter.

“Good thinking,” said Trickster. “Which of your capes are most durable? We can swap with them and they can stall while I make another trip back to Oth-”

“No,” I said. “You swap with Clockblocker. I’m taking down Crawler. Right here. Right now.”

I’d had enough of this shit. I wanted to kill something.

“That’s cute little girl,” said Trickster. “But you’re no Eidol-”

I stamped one of the walls, opened up a portal as big as I could make it, maybe the size of a van’s tire. A geyser blasted Crawler back up the stairs, flattening them as he rolled. Tentacles on his legs grasped the edge of the stairwell, held on tight, secured him against a force of water strong enough that it could have flattened a semi truck. Salt water rushed down the stairs like the rapids in a flooded river.

I heard him cackling, pushing past the water.

I flew up past the raging currents, stamped the crumbling stairwell beneath him, and opened up a portal at point blank range of his tentacles. Didn’t bother with small or subtle, I opened up geysers with water packing so much force they hit like steel. One. Two. Three. Four. More.

I let myself go all out in a way I’d never done before. These weren’t warning shots. I wanted to kill him.

Crawler lost his grip on the stairwell, started to rise with the rest of the geyser, large enough that it could more aptly be compared to a volcanic explosion. A single tentacle burst from the torrent of water, wrapped around my waist.

I put a stamp on my waist, blasted the tentacle off me with a geyser, at the cost of the larger geyser which has been lifting Crawler. He took the respite to launch himself at me, his gaping mouth filled with mismatched fangs.

I threw a stamped golfball at him. He shot an acidic spitball right back at me. I opened up a portal on my palm, and blasted all that acid right back at him with another geyser. He tanked the blast, securing himself, and sending dozens of wriggling tentacles my way.

With a flick of my palm, my geyser bisected them. I touched back down, and opened up another, larger geyser in the stairwell he was standing, blasted him upwards.

Right into falling debris, setup by the stairwells Miss Militia had collapsed with her RPG.

“Why the fuck are you still here?” I asked Trickster, opening up a geyser from a new direction to dislodge Crawler once more. He kept on fucking latching onto things like a lamprey. “Where’s Clockblocker?”

“Huh?” Said Trickster.

Crawler’s tentacles caught me. Wrapped around me. I closed the portal, and teleported myself to the Atlantic, and back to Brockton.

Crawler had already secured a foothold. Rushed to Trickster. I opened up another portal, but Crawler seemed ready for it, and didn’t slow.

So I teleported Trickster to the Atlantic and back to me.

“Clockblocker,” I shouted at Trickster.

And just like that, my Clock in shining armor appeared. I handed him a stamped dime, grabbed a spool of string right off his waist, and flew straight at Crawler. If I froze him, the fight was won.

Crawler squirted some acid at me. Game. I smirked and stuck my right arm into the spray.

ooOoo

Clockblocker put Crawler and Everywhere on pause. A little statue of two of the craziest fucking capes he’d ever been around connected by a thin stream of acid and a single line of floating thread. He walked forward, steeled himself, and stuck his arm down Crawler’s gullet. Getting deepthroated by Crawler  was easily the grossest thing he’d ever done. Once he’d shoved his arm as far as it would go he dropped the stamped dime. He took a couple shaky breaths, pulled out his hand, metal on his costume steaming from droplets of acid which hadn’t been clockblocked.

ooOoo

I opened up a portal on the dime, making the entire goddamn thing a fucking geyser, and let Crawler fill up like an overinflated water balloon as his acid covered me.

“Fuck,” I heard from above. Trickster. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“NOT YET!” I bellowed, as my suit melted. His acid was powerful, but my portals worked faster. The acid had chewed through the suit, had ruined my sight, now was melting my skin, but it wouldn’t start acting on flesh for at least thirty seconds. Even then it wouldn’t be fatal for a few minutes. The battle was won if my teammates didn’t blink first. “NOT YET!”

Crawler popped like a balloon, little bits of him exploding outwards. See the thing about changers like Crawler was that they were too heavy for me to teleport. But if I blew them up into little pieces, well I could teleport those just fine. So I finally gave Lung some company, and teleported bits of Crawler to join him in the bottom of the Atlantic. Unfortunately, a few bits of Crawler had escaped my initial teleportation.

Othala’s flight power finally ran out. I fell just a few feet, but I felt my right foot give way. It laid a few inches from me, as a pool of blood and acid dispersed in about an inch of flowing saltwater. I stamped the foot, and threw it at Clockblocker.

“Finish the job,” I said. It came out a little garbled though, an unfortunate circumstance at having my cheeks melted off. So I pointed at the bits of the regenerating bully.

Clockblocker did so, sprinting to the growing chunks of flesh. One. Two. Fuck the last piece was too big for me to teleport unless I got closer. I wriggled forward, bits of skin on my belly rubbing off on the coarse stone below me. Once in range, I teleported the last of Crawler to the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Regrow that,” I said.

“Swap her,” said Clockblocker, his words coming high and fast. “Swap her, swap her, swap her!”

Et tu, Clock? My one liner wasn’t even that bad. At the very least, defeating Crawler should've earned me a courtesy laugh. Although he wasn't really all that, nothing compared to the Siberian or Glaistig Uaine, so maybe I didn't deserve a courtesy laugh. If I were actually good at this I'd be able to come up with better one liners.

Oh right, I was dying. That didn't change the fact that none of them had even bothered to so much as act like they liked my one liner. I couldn't just pretend to not notice that. It was like they didn't even care about me. I thought we were supposed to be friends.

Trickster teleported me back up to Othala.

Grue retched.

“I think can see her organs, neat.”

Tattletale triggered the sprinkler, which maybe got some of the acid off me, then Othala gave me a regen power.

Oh I see. I’d been in shock. And I was starting to feel pain again. Not that much yet, but it was coming. Like the moments just after you stubbed your toe, I could tell this was really gonna suck.

Fuuuuuccccckkkkk.

I started screaming. It took about six minutes for me to stabilize. Three rotations of power wasted. Funny thing was I wasn’t really hurting anymore. I wasn’t really feeling much of anything, and I still couldn’t see. I was pretty sure I had severe nerve damage.

“Alright,” I said. “Trickster, the job’s not over. We’ve got to go after Glaistig Uaine and the Siberian, and we can’t beat them without your help.”

“You cannot be serious,” said Trickster.

“You’re in no condition to fight,” said Othala.

“I’ve been better,” I said. “But I’m needed. I’m not sitting this out just because I’m a little hurt.”

“The acid burned up your eyes so you can’t see, and fucked up your skin, bleached parts of it, and your flesh hasn’t fully grown back yet, so you look like a half-melted wax sculpture” said Othala. “You weren’t a model before, but if you go out like this it becomes permanent, and you’re not gonna be able to show your face around kids without traumatizing them. Not to mention you lost a fucking leg.”

“A foot,” I corrected, glad to have my cheeks back so I could communicate clearly. “Calf doesn’t count as the leg.”

“It does too,” said Othala childishly.

“Thigh or it doesn’t count,” I said. “Right Tattletale?”

“Tis a mere flesh wound,” said Tattletale. “She’ll live.”

“This seems a little irresponsible,” said Aegis.

“You’re saying that?” Asked Kid Win. “You?”

“I'm not that bad,” said Aegis. Clockblocker looked at him sideways. “I mean, she can’t even walk.”

“But I can still move,” I said. I demonstrated the flickering technique I’d learned in my fight with Glaistig Uaine, stamping the floor, teleporting to the Atlantic, and back to Brockton at the edge of my range, restamping the floor, and repeating the process. “Sure I have to crawl, but I can get around as fast as a low tier mover. My wound won’t impede my ability to fight.”

“I was skeptical when I heard about your recruitment,” said Miss Militia. “But you’ve more than proven yourself, Everywhere. You’ve more than done your duty. Rest. We can handle things from here.”

“No,” I said. “We can do it, ma’am. We can beat them. The Siberian and Glaistig Uaine. We know how to take them down.”

Miss Militia frowned. “And you’re really okay with this? Her putting herself at risk like this?”

Grue shrugged. “What can you do?”

“I’m more concerned about the danger I’m in,” said Regent. “Why is nobody concerned about my safety?”

“You don’t recognize it anymore do you?” Asked Tattletale. “That’s what a fucking hero looks like.”

“But sometimes,” said Miss Militia. “Heroes die. I’m making the call. You’re not going back out there. Early in the battle against Crawler, we saw Legend flash through the sky. Eidolon will be here shortly. Share your intelligence, and I’ll pass it along. You’ll accomplish great things Everywhere, but only if you don’t throw your life away first.”

“I assure you that that won’t happen,” said Coil. He was wearing his director mask, not his parahuman one, presenting the face of Director Thomas Calvert. “Capes under my watch don’t die.”

“With all due respect,” said Miss Militia, ice in her voice. “Sere would beg to differ.”

“The capes that matter don’t die,” said Coil. “We’ve never been properly introduced have we? You know me… but not really. I’ve hidden the fact that I’m a cape. My power allows me to win. Always. And it uncovered a critical piece of information that needs to be passed to Alexandria.”

“Tell us,” said Miss Militia. “We can pass the message along.”

“It’s something I need to deliver myself,” said Coil. “And I want Everywhere with us. Make no mistake, the Slaughterhouse will come after us. The Triumvirate’s focus will be on Glaistig Uaine, leaving the rest of them free to wander. You couldn’t handle Crawler; she could.”

“She’s a child,” said Miss Militia. “What’s the point of the PRT if we don’t protect people like her?”

“All that is irrelevant,” said Coil. “She’s needed.”

“I’m going,” I said. Despite everything, I kinda liked working for Coil. For better or worse he understood me.

So we set off for our hunt. Coil, Miss Militia, Trickster, Aegis, Othala, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Bitch, Tattletale, Grue, and Regent. Tattletale led the way, using her power to sniff out the Slaughterhouse for extermination. Without sight, I couldn’t identify landmarks or read signage so it was a little hard to tell where we were. Still, the buildings were getting smaller, the roads more worn down, so I had the feeling we were moving closer to the Docks, and had the general impression we were getting closer to the water.

“So,” I said casually, as I teleported next to Clockblocker, moving at ten foot flickers. “I couldn’t help but notice that none of you laughed or whooped at my one liner.”

“Huh?” Was Clockblocker’s response.

“My one liner,” I said.

“She said, ‘Regrow that’,” said Regent. “It wasn’t that funny, so I didn’t laugh.”

“I didn’t hear you say anything,” said Grue. “I was too focused on the fact that half your skin had melted off and you’d just thrown your fucking leg at Clockblocker.”

“Foot,” I corrected. “Calf doesn’t count.”

“I heard you, but I was more concerned about keeping you alive than pretending to laugh,” said Tattletale. 

“Sure,” I said. As always, I could only trust Regent to be honest with me. “What do you think of, ‘Ghost this!’”

“Is this really what we need to be worried about right now?” Asked Aegis. “We’re about to go up against two of the five strongest parahumans on the planet.”

“Meh, it’s okay,” said Tattletale. “But it’s not really up to my standard. For you it should be fine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“That you should leave the jokes to the people who are actually funny,” said Regent.

“Don’t listen to them,” said Clockblocker. “I like it.”

“Then you’d better fucking laugh next time,” I said.

Clockblocker glanced around. “Is she being seriou-”

“No,” Grue choked out. “Not here…”

Bitch grabbed my hand, and pointed it out in front of me, but a bit to the left.

“We’ve got company,” she whispered into my ear. “I’ll do what I can. Be your eyes and ears.”

Chapter Text

A/N: I’m not happy with this chapter at all, but I don’t have the time to rewrite it and I don’t want to put this fic on a month long hiatus, so here you go.

ooOoo

“Who?” I whispered back to Bitch, as she pulled me to cover behind a nearby apartment complex. I could sense all its occupants huddling around inside, fully aware that the Slaughterhouse had come to their doorstep. There were rooms with just one resident, dwelling of two or three, and even families. Most had come together, sometimes in the kitchen, sometimes the bathroom or bedroom, sometimes they were all armed with knives and guns, sometimes just one was, or none of them at all. A few hadn’t come together. One couple was oblivious, fucking doggystyle in their bed oblivious to the monsters that had come for them, their daughter trembling and knocking on the door as loudly as she dared. Based on my senses, she was a real looker, but wasted a figure that rivaled Emma’s with a trashy outfit. 

These people were all dead if we lost, or even won, but too slowly.

“Redhair,” said Bitch, describing my next target. “Shit on her face. Tattoos, maybe, or scars or burns or something. Can’t tell.”

Burnscar. A pyrokinetic who could teleport herself through flames. The things I could do with that power. Still, she’d fall to one good hit. That was unless she’d been modified by Bonesaw.

“Other one looks like one of those dolls they put out in front of stores,” said Bitch. “Got a shell. Like a bug.”

Mannequin. A tinker who specialized in sustaining life from outside forces. He didn’t have the movement or offensive power of Burnscar, but he was probably second only to Siberian in terms of tanking hits, especially since he’d had time to prepare for my geysers.

The plan was obvious. Take out the glass cannon first, then figure out how to squash the tank from a distance.

“Swap with the girl,” I told Trickster, stamping the potholed pavement.

“Can’t,” said Trickster. “She weighs 400 pounds, the other weighs 500. And before you ask, there’s nothing I can swap them with either. Here’s what we need to do-”

“Swap Everywhere with me once I get in range,” said Grue. He didn’t give us any time to argue, he was already running, sprinting. I could only assume he’d covered himself in darkness.

“Fuck,” said Tattletale. “Fuck, Grue, get back-”

I teleported next to her, and covered her mouth. We couldn’t get his attention without alerting the Slaughterhouse as well. Besides, it wasn’t a bad plan. Once Burnscar got going she’d be tough to stop, if we could catch her by surprise, finish the fight before it started, all the better.

“It’s not,” said Tattletale. “Mannequin-”

“Aegis,” I said, stamping his muscular chest. Tattletale was right, Mannequin could sense Grue through his darkness. “Get him.”

I teleported to the Atlantic, Tats gave me the signal, and I teleported Aegis and Grue back to the Atlantic. I sensed Aegis’s suit being shredded by a barrage of bullets. Tats gave me the all clear, and I teleported Aegis back to Brockton to finish the job. He had the presence of mind to scoop up his suit. Another signal from Tattletale, and Aegis was back with me and Grue in the Atlantic.

“Teleport me back,” Grue shouted, and shook me. “Teleport me back Taylor! I have to go back! I have to!”

I teleported Aegis back to Brockton. He froze midflight, more signals from Tattletale. A fire. Burnscar had ignited the apartment complex, and Mannequin had retreated. We needed a change in strategies.

“I’m not wasting you,” I said.

“I have to be there!” Said Grue, “You don’t understand, my sis-”

I teleported back to Brockton Bay, left Grue behind. He’d never forgive me for this. Fine. He’d live.

The air heated up. Burnscar had lit the neighborhood on fire. Civilians who noticed what was happening sprinted for the exits, while the slower ones were trapped by flames that spread with intelligence.

I noticed the girl from earlier left behind, forgotten.

Burnscar flickered in and out of existence inside the apartments. Sensed erratic movement from the people she came close to. They’d been lit on fire. The halls were jammed, too many civilians crammed inside, too scared for an orderly escape, everyone panicked, running, sprinting, even though they were all packed like sardines. One six-year-old pushed to the floor by his panicked older sister, trampled by neighbors so scared they’d lost their masks. Easy to pretend to care about children, about others, when it didn’t cost you anything, but in the end, once pressure caused their beautiful masks to crack, their ugly humanity was exposed. People didn’t care about others, only themselves.

It was a mess. I’d do what I could to fix it.

I applied a stamp to the apartment complex, and started opening up geysers inside it. Putting out fires, busting down ceilings, opening up new exits. I still had no idea how we could get close to Burnscar through anything other than dumb luck.

“She can teleport through the flames,” said Tattletale. “But they all have to be connected. She can’t jump from one fire to a separate one.”

I put a stamp on Bitch, replacing the one on Aegis. He would have to fend off Mannequin for a bit, until Burnscar was taken care of.

“Lead me,” I told Bitch. I put a stamp on my palm, and blasted apart the apartment wall with a geyser. “Fan out, but everyone stays within eyesight of Trickster.”

I teleported to the Atlantic stamp. Surveyed the situation from the serenity of the sea, instead of letting myself get distracted by the chaos of the battlefield. I could still sense the families, the children, fleeing and crying, but I didn’t have to hear them.

I did my best to ignore Grue’s shuddering breaths. He wasn’t attacking me, which was good. I guess. That he’d frozen. From an operational standpoint, it was a good thing.

I opened up geysers around the apartment complex, not trying to put out the fire, but section it off. Isolate it into a bunch of small fires. I had a feeling Tattletale was leading Bitch where she needed to go, allowing me to cut the fire in half, then a quarter, then an eighth, as we zeroed in on Burnscar. My Undersiders marched through hallways single file, picking up more and more civilians as we went.

Burnscar flickered in and out of existence more and more quickly, always on the edge of her fires, escaping one section only to get stuck in another, smaller section. Starting to panic now, getting more and more daring about getting within my range and staying there if it meant breaking out of her little cage. She started harassing, popping into existence near a Tattletale, near a Bitch, sending a fireblast at them, and popping out of existence before I retaliated. Finally she made a mistake. Targeted Regent, and he didn’t have to dodge. He just made her twitch. Had her send her little fireblast through her feet. It didn’t hurt her, but she couldn’t escape through it either. Felt the world shift, as Trickster swapped Bitch and Regent.

I teleported next to Bitch, put a stamp on my palm, and shot a geyser at Burnscar which took off her legs. Tried to teleport her to the Atlantic, but she was still too heavy. So I shot off her arms. One. Then a finger. Then half the other. Then the whole thing.

There we go. Now she was light enough. I gave Crawler some company.

Mannequin next.

“Where’s Grue?” Asked Bitch.

“We need to support Aegis,” said Tattletale. I nodded.

I blew a hole into one of the nearby rooms, flickered inside by stamping the floor, grabbed some keys, stamped them, flickered to the window, blasted it open, threw the keys to the ground below, and teleported down once they’d landed. I was surrounded by a mob of evacuating noncombatants, but neither Aegis or Mannequin were within range.

“Is there anything I can do?” Asked another civilian.

“Yes,” I said, turning to face her. “Run.”

One look at me- at whatever Crawler’s acid had left of my face- and her courage broke. And once a single member of the herd got spooked, they all did. I flickered in and out of existence, weaving past the writhing mass of fleeing civilians. Wherever they were running from, that’s where I needed to go. Corpses littered the streets. Good. More tools at my disposal. Trickster could use them to put us just about anywhere.

Mannequin had nailed Aegis to the middle of the road. Securing him with spikes through the hands, feet, and thighs. Mannequin was shaving off bits of Aegis’s flesh and depositing them into an opening in his shell. He noticed me, and shoved a knife through Aegis’s throat.

I stamped my palm, and blasted Mannequin with a jet of water. He was pushed backwards a couple of feet, but otherwise unaffected. Aegis’s neck had been ripped halfway off, but Othala would be able to fix that. Probably.

Mannequin raised his hand, and I flickered ten feet to my left, as a barrage of bullets went flying in the space I’d just been. I flickered left three times more, until he was out of ammo.

I hit him with another geyser, tried to aim it at a joint. It hit. He was pushed backwards a little, but was otherwise unbothered.

I flickered away from another barrage of bullets, and sensed the Undersiders coming to my rescue. Far faster than if they’d taken the stairs. They must’ve used Clockblocker to build a slide or set of stairs using frozen bed sheets or coats or something. Or maybe Trickster had swapped their positions with some of the people on the streets, that would have been even faster.

Trickster swapped Aegis with a corpse, and Othala was by his side in an instant. I fired a geyser at Mannequin, and it had all the effect of a squirt gun. He ignored the jet, and aimed a palm at the Undersiders. He twitched, and fired his bullets just above them. Thanks Regent. In the second it took him to correct his aim, Clockblocker had put up a frozen bed sheet in front of them.

Miss Militia jumped out from behind the barricade, and smothered Mannequin with a flamethrower. It wasn’t a jet of fire, so much as an ignited liquid. Even fifty feet away, I could feel the heat. Mannequin brushed off the blow, and returned fire, drawing closer to the barrier. His steps were slowed by melted tar, the pavement sticking to his feet like syrup.

“Hotter,” I screamed, ripping the words from my throat so they could be heard over the inferno and the screams. “Melt him. Melt him! MELT HIM! ”

Miss Militia summoned and distributed grenades to the Undersiders, while I slowed Mannequin’s advance with more geysers. Tattletale held up three fingers, two, then one, then none. I ended my blasts as the Undersiders darted out from their barricade, and lobbed their grenades at Mannequin. Miss Militia ignited them all at once with her flamethrower, the concrete melting into a highly viscous soup. Mannequin thrashed about inside.

I stamped a nickel, lobbed it over him, teleported above him, blasted him into the liquid concrete with a geyser aimed straight down, teleported back to the Atlantic portal, and then back to Brockton once the nickel had landed.

It was as hot and humid as a sauna, the water from the geysers turning to steam as it resolidified the melted concrete. Mannequin was mostly buried in concrete, but his head peaked out.

A hole opened up near where his mouth would be, and I blasted it with a geyser before he could swamp the area in poison gas. Bitch ran to me, let me wrap an arm around her shoulder, and helped me walk to Mannequin.

“His body is like a bugs,” said Tattletale. “We’ve trapped him, but we haven’t done any damage until we’ve broken through his shell. Our best bet is to have Othala give one of us, probably Miss Militia, superstrength and see if we can bust him open.”

“I can handle things from here,” said Alexandria, floating down. She put her hands where his ears should have been, ripped him from concrete, and squeezed his head until it popped, drenching us with a spray of warm blood. “You always did need to have your head deflated a bit, Sphere.”

I cringed. Alexandria sounded psychotic.

“Eidolon is currently engaged with Glaistig Uaine, and Legend and Siberian are on the way,” said Alexandria, gazing down at me. “Based on your scars, I surmise that you’ve taken care of Crawler. Well done.”

“I ran from Glaistig Uaine,” I said. “I lost Flechette and Panacea.”

“It is a setback. Panacea had potential, but thanks to your mistakes it will never be realized,” said Alexandria. She shrugged. “You weren’t good enough. I don’t have time for your self pity. The rest of the Slaughterhouse is still out there. Will you be a part of the solution, or mope like a child?”

I teleported Grue back to Brockton. He stared at the burning apartment complex. No big outburst, just quiet sobs. I was glad that Crawler had taken my eyes. Didn’t have to look at his face. See it broken from my betrayal.

Bitch grabbed my hand, started pulling me. I stamped her sweater and reached out with my senses. The mob was running from something I couldn’t sense.

It must have been the Siberian. I teleported Grue back to the Atlantic.

We were running along with a dozen others. Civilians who’d been foolish enough to stick around and watch, instead of running when they’d had the chance. Cars whizzed past us, streaming out of the apartment complex’s parking garage. Two crashed into each other. One kept on driving, the other stumbled out of his car, and ran on foot. The truck behind him just ran right over him. Another car wrapped itself around Clockblocker’s barricade, blocking traffic, as civilians swarmed over them like ants.

Alexandria and a cape who flew even faster flitted in and out of my senses, dive bombing what was presumably the Siberian projection. I searched for her master, but there were dozens, if not hundreds of people holed up in their apartments. No way to find the projection.

Trickster teleported me at least twice to get me away from the Siberian, swapping me with noncombatants. I couldn’t track the Siberian directly, but when a car crumpled up and came rushing towards me, I kinda got the idea that she must’ve been the one doing it. It didn’t hit of course, I teleported me, Bitch, and a random passerby to the Atlantic Portal to keep us from getting crushed. Unfortunately it kept on rolling and crushed a man fleeing on foot.

I started teleporting the humans within my range to the Atlantic and back. Based on the fact that the Siberian hadn’t vanished, I hadn’t had much luck.

Trickster swapped Bitch into a van, and I teleported in after her.

Tattletale honked the horn. “Meep, meep motherfucker. Catch me if you can!” She flipped off Siberian, stomped on the gas, and made a hairpin turn into a back alley. I yelped, and fell down. It looked like we were hurdling towards a deadend, but Tattletale smashed right through a chainlink fence and drove through a backyard into another back alley, which somehow spurted out into a 4 way intersection where we had right of way.

“Jesus,” said Trickster, lighting up a cigarette. “All of this for nothing.”

“Can I have a smoke?” Asked Othala.

“It’s unprofessional,” said Coil. “Tobacco contains over 7000 chemicals, many of which are carcinogenic. Even second hand smoke may be deadly.”

“Fuck off,” said Clockblocker. “Aren’t you supposed to be a supervillain or something?”

“Clockblocker please,” said Coil, sounding delighted. “Not everyone knows. You’ll ruin the surprise.”

I slammed into the driver seat, as Siberian ran a claw through the van’s rear. A streak from the sky slammed into the concrete like a meteor, as Alexandria dislodged the Siberian. Our back bumper screeched on the concrete as we sped away.

Trickster lit another cigarette.

“What’s the plan?” Asked Alexandria, flying by the window.

“The fuck?”

I stole Trickster’s cigarette from his lips, stamped it, and threw it to her. To my surprise, she caught it without so much as a bobble. I frowned. I’d kinda wanted her to drop it so I could keep throwing Trickster’s cigarettes at her.

I teleported into her arms. “If the Siberian projection has a range, then forcing her to move will make it easier to spot her master. They’re going to have to be in a car or van. Get me close to them, I’ll teleport away the people inside, and if the Siberian vanishes we’ll know we have them.”

Alexandria gave a sharp nod, and passed me off to Legend, who flew us up high.

“What are you doing?”

“Tattletale’s power will guide her to a route without traffic,” said Legend. “It will be more obvious which automobile is following her if we observe from above. Alexandria will run interference on Siberian’s pursuit.”

“Wouldn’t you be better at that?” I asked. “Alexandria is vulnerable if she gets in too close.”

Siberian tossed a truck at the Undersiders’ van, but Alexandria flew in front of it, letting the metal shrapnel explode around her.

“I can’t catch cars,” said Legend.

It was a good plan. Doubly so because it worked. Tattletale took a right, drove straight through three intersections narrowly weaving through oncoming traffic, left, then right, and then straight through. The roads had gotten wider, the apartments giving way to larger houses. The neighborhood felt familiar. Not quite nice enough for a mayor, but still upscale, a place where doctors and principals lived. Or maybe a lawyer. 

In my head I knew it had to be strategic. The people in this neighborhood could afford new cars, and one that blended into the Docks would stick out over here. I’d never told Tattletale the specifics of my past, and she wasn’t all knowing, she couldn’t fuck with me on this level, not while running for her life. But in my gut I knew that this was no coincidence, this was intentional. We would catch Siberian in two blocks. Not one. Not three. Two.

No. I wouldn’t let it happen. I was done playing Jack’s games.

After one block we’d identified the car the Siberian’s Master was driving, a tan Dodge Caravan with a wooden stripe across the side. Alexandria tried to pummel it, but of course the Siberian reappeared on top of the car, making it and her invincible. Legend blasted it with lasers, but that still wasn’t enough, the car completely invulnerable. It did start to slide though, and Legend blasted the pavement underneath the car, caved it in, melted it until the Caravan was stuck in a swamp of melted concrete. Alexandria charged forward with a string. Made contact. And suddenly the car wasn’t moving anymore.

“Consider yourself clockblocked, old man.”

Regent chuckled at Clockblocker’s one liner. I didn’t get the part about the old man, but it hardly mattered. Siberian’s master was pounding on the doors to the car.

“Alexandria,” I said. “Get it within ten feet of him. Let’s finish this!”

I stamped Legend’s mask, and tossed it down to her. She caught it in one motion, barely slowing from her charge to the car. The Siberian jumped up to meet her, but Alexandria fended her off with her left arm. Siberian bit down. Tendons snapped, muscles tore, bones snapped. Alexandria’s arm plummeted to the ground

But Alexandria was in range, Legend flew me close, Coil stabbed Othala in the back, put a knife to Tattletale’s throat, and pulled off his face…

Shit.

“Jacob,” said Alexandria. “How long?”

“Becca, it’s always a pleasure,” said Jack. “Naturally the first thing I did when I arrived in this fine city was remove your director. I will not play with someone who insists on do overs. And Squirter, Tattletale, don’t consider this plagiarism, consider it homage. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery afterall.”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” said Alexandria, blood spurting from her stump. “Everywhere. Manton is in range. Do it.”

“Aw, aw, aw,” said Jack, putting little cuts on Tattletale’s neck. “Mannequin’s poison gas is still in place. Should you kill our old friend, I throw the trigger.”

“You’re a blight to the world,” said Alexandria. “Proof of why capes like me are necessary. If I have to sacrifice a city to put you down, I’ll sacrifice a city.”

“Becca please,” said Jack. “You know that I’ve always admired the PRT. I just want to ask you one question about its formation, and then you’ll be free to kill me. I won’t fight back or run.”

“Everywhere, kill Manton,” said Alexandria. “Jacob’s blaster power is a front. He can read capes, find and exploit your weaknesses. The only way to beat him is to close your mind. Don’t listen to his words.”

“This will be a private conversation,” said Jack. “Between Becca, myself, and Tattletale. But don’t worry, Squirter, I’ve given you something to do. I’ve sent some assassins after your father. Danny Hebert.”

I went cold as he read off my address.

“This is what he does,” said Legend urgently. “Kill Manton, and we can take Jack Slash out right here and now. Kill him, before he wriggles away like he always does and does this to a thousand more people. Make the sacrifice. Become the hero you were always meant to be.”

I knew Legend was right. I knew he was right, and I didn’t care.

I teleported to the stamp on Alexandria, and flickered away.

I had to save Dad.

ooOoo

“Go,” said Jack Slash, as Taylor teleported away. “Give us some privacy, and I promise I won’t end another soul in Brockton Bay.”

Legend glared down at him, his arms crossed.

“You want more,” said Jack Slash, caressing Tattletale’s neck with a butcher knife. He shot Alexandria a vulpine smile. “Very well. If you leave the three of us alone, I’ll show Tattletale how to kill Leviathan and how to permanently defeat the Endbringers.”

“He’s lying,” said Legend, his voice almost pleading. “He’s lying. You know he’s lying.”

But Tattletale knew Jack wasn’t. Not from her power, it never worked on him. From one word. Show. Not tell.

Show.

“Legend,” said Alexandria. “Follow Everywhere. Make sure she’s safe. She will be important, especially in the event that I am captured. I will be broadcasting our conversation to the pentagon. Even should I perish, the intel gained from the conversation will be secured.”

“No,” said Legend. “He’s playing you. Like he does everyone.”

“This is what it was all for,” said Alexandria. “All the horrible things we’ve done. For even the slightest chance to save the world. Jacob has the most powerful thinker power in the world. After all I’ve done, all my sins, I have no right to turn down this opportunity. No matter the costs.”

“He’s Jack Slash,” said Legend. “An irredeemable psychopath.”

“1.34 billion,” said Alexandria.

“1.34 billion,” said Legend. And in a blue blur he was gone. Clockblocker, Bitch, and Trickster left with him. Not Othala. She’d bled out while they talked.

No healers.

Finally, it was just the three of them, along with perhaps two others. Eidolon and Glaistig Uaine fighting above Brockton Bay’s burning skyline.

“So,” said Alexandria, touching down in front of him, her left arm a bloody stump. “Your question.”

“You’re an eager one,” said Jack Slash. “Let’s not be so quick to climax, we’re at the crescendo. Savor it.”

“You’re stalling,” said Alexandria. “Your question?”

“Perhaps,” said Jack Slash, pointing at something unseen above the clouds. “If we fight, one of us dies, and Glaistig Uaine sucks us up and replenishes her power. Can you imagine if she defeats Eidolon? I may never be free again.”

Alexandria lifted him by the collar. “Your question?”

“Fine, fine,” said Jack Slash, putting up his hands. “It’s not about the why of the formation of the PRT, I’ve always known exactly why you created it. But it’s about how you felt about it afterwards. If you ever wondered, if you ever realized, but more than anything, Becca, I’d like you to tell me:”

Chapter Text

“Does the screaming ever stop?”

Chapter Text

“What’s for dinner, hon?” Mom asked, throwing her wet brown coat onto the maroon carpet.

His father grunted, and put the coat on a hanger. “Didn’t make it, was out looking for a job. Told the boy to do it. About time he started learning to cook.”

Danny said, “I heated up some lasagna, it’s on the dinner table Mo-”

“Any luck finding a job?” Mom asked, laughter in her voice.

His father shot her an ugly glare.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Asked Mom. “You’re never getting another job, not when you’re such a fucking moron you get into a fight with every goddamn boss you’ve ever fucking had. I never should’ve married you, you’re not a real man, so the least you could do is doll yourself up, put on a fucking apron, and make me something edible. And for all that you’re a fucking failure, maybe it’d be forgivable if you hadn’t forced me to kee-”

Her head jerked back, as his father’s punch connected with the middle of her throat. Fuck. Hot! Danny burnt his tongue on the tomato sauce, held out his fork, and blew. Tried to get it cool enough to eat.

Mom just laughed, between ragged gasps. Danny threw himself between them. His father tossed him into the wall like a ragdoll, and wrapped his hands around her neck.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” Mom gasped. “If you’re gonna fucking kill me, just fucking do it you fucking faggot.”

His father’s fist smashed into her head. 

More bitter laughter. Dad was actually going to do it this time. Maybe.

Danny’s punches were too light, and his father batted him away, sending him flying into a wall. It didn’t even really hurt.

His father grabbed Mom’s head, slammed it into the floor repeatedly. She wasn’t saying anything anymore, just screaming. A real scream, not the more common manipulative one. The kind you’d hear from a dying animal, exhausted and ragged, like it’d been ripped forcefully out of her throat.

Danny grabbed his fork, and slammed it into his father’s back. Pulled it out, stabbed again and again, until his Father wheeled on him, punched him in the head so hard that everything went black and silent for just a second. But then Mom’s screams returned.

His father stared at his fist for a moment, and in two strides was out of the apartment to cool off. Danny hoped he never came back, but for some reason he always did.

He tried to help Mom up, but she pushed away his hand.

“All you men are the fucking same,” said Mom. “I saw you stab him. Someday you’re gonna grow up and be just like your father.”

ooOoo

He finally found her in passing between second and third period, surrounded by a group of hanger-ons like usual. He pushed past them. It wasn’t like they were bad people, they were just popular.

“Irma told me that we’ve got openings on Tuesday and Thursday,” said Danny, trying not to trip over his words.

“That’s great,” said Zoe, brushing aside a lock of silky red hair.

“It’s really awesome that you’re volunteering,” said Danny. “It’ll inspire a lot of other students to help out too.”

“You’re the cool one,” said Zoe, flashing him a smile that he’d definitely be thinking about that night. “Keeping all you do on the dl. There’s more to you than meets the eye, Danny Hebert.”

“Cool it with the praise,” said Walter, wrapping an arm over Zoe’s shoulder. “Or he’ll be following you around for weeks.”

“Word of advice,” said Danny. “Cut the whole douchebag jock act. You can get away with it now, while you’re setting scoring records, but once she’s in Harvard and you’re working as a fry cook at McDonald’s, she’s gonna need a good reason not to dump you for some college boy with an actual future.”

“Really Hebert?” Asked Walter. “It’s not like your grades are any good. You may look like a nerd, but you don’t have the grades for it. You’re a loser, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

“There are worse things than being a loser,” said Danny.

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” said Walter. “Whatever. Just run along, before I have to beat your ass for making a pass at my girl.”

“I didn’t make a pass at her,” said Danny.

“Funny. I thought those glasses were supposed to help your vision,” said Walter. His little group of sycophants laughed at that one. Zoe too.

Don’t get angry. Don’t get angry. Don’t get angry.

“Oooh, scary. Is that glare supposed to be intimidating, Hebert?” Asked Walter, smirking. “I wish you would do something. Bet you’ve never even been in a fi-”

Danny punched him in the middle of his throat. Walter went down, coughing, clutching at his neck. Wide open. Danny felt Walter’s testacles squish against the top of his shoe. Somebody behind him pulled him back. Ganging up on him.

Laughter.

He was a joke. A punchline. Jeers all around him. Enemies.

Danny elbowed the person behind him in the side, felt them curl, pushed them to the ground when their grip loosened, and kicked and kicked when they went down. He kicked the stomach, the shoulders, the head. More arms restraining him this time. He kept on kicking the enemy on the floor. Why couldn’t they have just left him the fuck alone?

“Don’t fucking underestimate me,” he screamed. “You start something with me, you’d better be damn sure you’re ready to fucking finish it!!”

And then he looked at the person he’d been kicking. Bloody. Unmoving. What had they done? Tried to break up a fight?

Maybe Walter had deserved what he’d got- probably not, but maybe- the man on the floor though, he’d just been trying to do the right thing. And Danny had tried to kill him for it.

Danny went limp in the teacher’s grasp. He was relieved he was small. Weak. If he’d been as big as his father, he may have killed the other student.

Zoe stared at him curiously as he was escorted to the principal’s office, like he’d caught her attention for the first time. That spark in her gaze, one she’d never given him before, that reward was the worst part of all.

ooOoo

“...But just between you and me,” said the principal leaning in, a half smile on her face. “Sometimes a kid’s got an asskicking coming.”

“What?” Danny exploded out of his chair. “A boy is in the hospital, and you’re telling me it’s a fucking good thing? What kind of fucking principal are you? Violence is never the answer! Taylor should be expelled!”

“He was twice her size,” said Annette, taking his hand, urging him to sit down. “And she didn’t fight him until he started picking on Zoe’s girl. Emma, remember?”

“She’ll have to be suspended of course,” said the principal. “But I think your daughter just made a friend for life.”

“So that makes it okay?” Asked Danny. “She threw sand in his eye, stabbed him with a shovel, smashed his head in with a bucket. She could’ve fucking killed him!”

“She’s six,” said the principal. “He’s twelve. The shovel and bucket were just toys. Speaking frankly, Mister Hebert, your Taylor is a kind, intelligent girl, and the boy… Well, she may have just saved his life. You bark like he does, eventually you’re gonna find someone that bites back.”