Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I nervously placed the empty soda in the trash can, doing my best to make it look like I was throwing it away and not planting it.

The jitter in my legs went ignored as I walked into an alley across the street that hopefully hid me from any cameras and passer by's. A young girl really shouldn't be out so late at night, especially in Brockton Bay. But I was right across a grocery store with a bus stop down the street, it shouldn't be too risky. So I waited for a while.

It took nearly an hour before somebody came by who wasn't just walking past to the bus stop. Some guys wandering the city half drunk, laughing and hollering about something only they understood. One of them dumped an empty beer in the trash can before they kept moving. I waited another five minutes before taking out the dog whistle I had bought and blowing into it.

For a moment nothing happened, just as I was panicking about him being crushed by that bottle he crawled out.

Hundreds of tendrils peaked above the lid, each one so thin that only the reflected light of their sickly slick grey skin gave them away. They bunched together into eight pencil lead thick tentacles each a foot long before Bobby pulled himself out of the trash can.

He looked ridiculous, like the world's most inbred octopus, his main body was the size of my thumb with a dog's eyes and nose that dominated his face. I gagged at the memory of finding the organ "donor" half eaten by rats but when you have my tinker specialisation beggars can't be choosers.

For a moment he looked at me before his nose twitched and he swiveled around towards the alley next to the grocery store. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I had been training him for about a week now but this was his first field test.

He jumped off the trash can and landed with a wet squelch before scurrying towards the alley, where Bobby found a wad of paper I had soaked in a special pheromone designed to catch his attention.

The plan was simple. I had trained him to follow a trail of these wads until he found some meat, ate it, and after I blew the whistle twice he would come back to me. Earlier today I had placed two wads, one next to the store where an air vent was and the other inside the store next to the meat aisle.

He sniffed around the wad happily until he caught a whiff of the second one. He let out a high pitched chirp before scampering up the wall and squeezing into the vent. Now I just had to wait again.

xXx

Fifteen minutes later I saw some movement in the store, the slick skin of my creature caught just enough light for me to recognise him, even if he was larger than before.

What I haven't mentioned until now is that my creation is designed to grow rapidly when he eats, an extra layer of muscle and skin that leaves his original body unchanged. A silver lining for me since this little thing already drained my life savings. Though little doesn't really apply to him anymore, while the main body had only grown to the size of my fist the tentacles stretched like thick ropes with the ends disappearing into the store's gloomy darkness.

He crept along the aisle, opening packet after packet and ravaging the insides. The conversion rate was horrible, dozens of pounds for a few inches of growth but I could see him getting bigger in real time.

Watching him treat an entire grocery store's stock of meat as a buffet was morbidly intriguing, tinkering with dead dogs killed most squeamish instincts I had but this was just... something else. Halfway through he got big enough to eat the plastic alongside the meat and eventually started just swallowing them whole.

By the end he was an entirely new creature, the main body was the size of my torso and its tendrils were fifteen feet long. And it didn't cost a penny if nobody connected this to me. But this was the only way to get more materials even if it made me uncomfortable, I had designed Bobby so that his original body would be like a core that I could safely extract without causing him pain. The rest of him could be used for other projects.

From the amount of new mass I was estimating he had packed on I'd have enough materials for my plan, so I blew into the whistle twice.

Bobby didn't react. I blew again but he only started sniffing around the store, the distance and him being inside a building must have deafened him to me.

Uh oh.

As if on cue he knocked over a shelf while climbing on it, causing the whole row to fall over like dominoes. The sound of breaking glass and what might be a literal ton of food crashing into the ground echoed through the store and into the street. Bobby let out a piercing shriek in fright, a long and blood curdling scream of terror that sounded horribly human.

I've made a terrible mistake.

I watched in horror as Bobby crashed into other shelves, skittering across the ground like a squid from hell while screaming like the damned before he leapt up and shot through the dropped ceiling.

I stood there frozen, my thoughts ground to a complete stop. In the back of my mind echoed a wail of despair but higher thought had left me as I gazed upon the utter shitshow I had made.

Next came what was either the fastest police response in BB history or me being snapped out of a long trance as a police cruiser with lights and sirens blaring came skidding around a corner. I pressed myself against the alley's wall and muffled my breath.

They parked in front of the store before a black officer jumped out from the driver’s seat and grabbed his pistol.

He held a flashlight and shone it into the store, before murmuring. "Like a bull in a china shop."

The other cop, a white man, who had taken his sweet time climbing out of the car called out. "Hey, kid! What's it look like?"

I was confused, he didn't look any older than him at all. Then I noticed the bald head and tattoos peaking through his sleeves.

My breath hitched, I had taken the bus as far away from our house as I could. Ending up on the outskirts of Empire territory. If they heard word of a cape being here... well hopefully the police wouldn't notice me. I thought of just running away but then I would be leaving Bobby behind.

"Somebody trashed the entire shop!" He called out towards his colleague, I could tell he didn't like the patronising tone but had resigned himself to it.

"Probably just some junky or something."

"Dispatch said that screaming was reported."

The E88 officer threw his hands up. "Well then maybe they hurt themselves, let's just bag them." He walked up to the sliding doors before staring at them with a pensive face. Eventually, they pried it open and entered.

I leaned out of the alley to follow their movements, one of them yelled that they were police and that whoever was in there was to show themselves. After nobody came out they started searching the store.

This was good. I just had to wait for them to go into the back and then I could call Bobby, he probably wouldn't be subtle about his return but I was prepared to run like hell.

The two of them navigated through the wrecked store, flashlights sweeping over mountains of spilled food. Carefully they stepped over broken glass and rainbow rivers of mixed sodas.

The dark skinned man was keeping his eyes open, prepared for anybody to jump out and attack. But humans don't look up for danger. So he paused directly underneath where Bobby had leapt up.

My heart froze, and tentacles thicker than my arms slowly descended towards him. Bobby was trained to go after all kinds of meat.

Instinctively the dog whistle came to my lips and I blew as hard as I could.

Bobby's tendrils froze. I sighed in relief but gasped when he shot out of the hole and tackled the cop.

The officer bounced against the floor. His face was twisted in pain but he didn't scream. Bobby was smushing him with all his mass, he probably weighed over two hundred pounds. God, I hope he didn't break his ribs.

"The fuck!?" Yelled the other one as he whirled around and saw Bobby crushing his partner.

"C-cape..!" Wheezed the straddled officer.

The white officer hesitated before unloading into Bobby, the madman by some miracle avoiding hitting his colleague, only getting Bobby in his meat shell. He would be fine.

But that didn't mean Bobby wasn't startled. Screeching like satan he whipped out one of his tentacles, catching the cop across his arm and chest with a sickening crack.

The skinhead dropped to the ground in shock, his shirt torn and bleeding profusely. I blew into the whistle again, thankfully Bobby swiveled towards me and slithered across the street. It would be almost cute how happy he was to see me if I hadn't just seen him assault two grown men and win without trying.

My gaze flicked between him chirping at me and the officers on the ground. Should I call someone? I didn't have a phone and my hoodie wouldn't hide my face from them if I grabbed theirs. Thankfully the decision was taken from me when I saw the man Bobby had tackled fumble for his walkie talkie before speaking into it.

With medical attention on the way I ran, Bobby following closely as we ran down the route I had scouted, planned, and practiced for weeks. Finally we got to a deserted park where I had hidden a chello case in a bush, finding it tossed out on the road had sparked the idea for this heist.

I had gotten Bobby used to being in tight spaces with small boxes and he could crawl in them on command. He barely fit, but plenty of air holes were poked into it so he should be fine.

After heaving the case on my back I began my shaky march towards another bus stop, by the time I made it there I was wheezing like a dying horse and dropped myself on the bench. Soon I'd be home and this night would be over.

Chapter Text

Fumbling with the keys I managed to unlock our front door.

I gently dropped the Cello case and let Bobby out, he squeaked in annoyance before sliding out onto the floor. Luckily whatever the moisture on his skin counted as didn't stain things. I really didn't want to explain to Dad why the floor had mystery stains. Luckily he left for Boston on a business trip and would be gone the entire week.

My plan hinged on that, even with how distant we've been lately he'd notice if I was playing Frankenstein in our basement.

I trudged up the stairs with Bobby following after me, looking at everything with new eyes as what was his whole world up until today was suddenly smaller.

Once I got into my room I reached for Bobby before realising there was no way he'd fit into his hamster cage. I grabbed some old blankets and made a makeshift bed, he seemed to like it.

As soon as my head hit the pillow I fell asleep.

xXx

I woke up with sore muscles and felt like I couldn't move at all but that was just Bobby. The cretin had climbed on up and sprawled himself all across my bed.

He was so damn heavy. It took me a few minutes to wriggle out under him and once I was up he stopped pretending to be asleep and got out of bed too!

xXx

I put him in the bathtub and then went to the basement to prepare my lab, I never thought becoming a parahuman would involve so much prep work.

I spread out the tarp on the table, I learned why you should do that the hard way. My tools, the simplest being a scalpel and hammer followed by things I didn't even have names for were meticulously arranged on a tray. One final check that everything was perfect and then I fetched Bobby.

Turns out leaving him unsupervised in the bath was a bad idea now that he was strong enough to turn on the water by himself.

"I'm gonna butcher you for that." I said while wiping up the spill, Bobby didn't care for my threats as he played with a rubber ducky he found somewhere.

I waited for the tub to fully drain before I pressed the tips of my gloved fingers a quarter inch away from his eyes, right where I had designed the flesh to be soft.

With a sudden and gross squelch, my fingers plunged in, grimacing I grabbed his core body and gently tugged.

Bobby's shell went limp, sagging into a pile as I pulled him out. Retrieving his real tentacles he'd been using to puppet the meat suit took a while. They had unfurled inside like a nervous system and would snap if I was too harsh or rushed. Eventually, he was fully disconnected and I placed him in a bowl filled with water where he could play until I was finished.

Then I grabbed my carving knife and pruned the tentacles, they weren't too useful for the project I had planned so they'd be converted into raw bio matter. But their blood would be so I squeezed it into a bucket, I let the torso bleed out since my creations needed only minimal amounts of blood during their making and there was no good way to drain it without a meathook which I didn't have.

I bagged the parts and made sure they were tied, then washed and bleached the tub. The results weren't what I hoped they would be but I had a whole week to scrub everything clean. Hauling the materials down to the basement was a pain but now I could finally tinker properly.

xXx

I brough the tentacle bucket to the one with the colorless goo my power called stem cell paste inside, a few drops of another concoction and it started hissing as I fed the tendrils into it, Bobby really didn't like seeing that. Hard to blame him.

"Don't worry lil guy." I said while patting the top of his head with a finger.

Hauling the torso onto my table I got to work, the flesh split smoothly as I carved out a chest cavity. The hours blurred together as I broke and set a great dane's ribcage into a more rounded shape, the fact that most of the bones I had came from dogs I found dead in Empire alley's made me sick but at least I'd eventually help them get revenge, from a morbid point of view.

I joined the broken bones with the stem cell paste, then smacked a bloody hand against my forehead when I realised I had forgotten to put in the organs first. Luckily this thing wouldn't really have normal organs, just some old airbags painted with hydrophobic paint as lungs, several dog hearts, and an absolutely tiny stomach I'd have to inject hyper dense nutrient goo into every few days. I managed to work around my screw up, and after connecting the airbags to the windpipe I had carved I was struck with an idea. What if I gave it gills?

Not one's for breathing underwater, but instead placed on its torso so that the massive lungs inside could fill up quicker. The muscles I had in mind would be incredibly dense, my creation would need a way too fill those massive lungs fast. The next few hours were spent shaping the torso, figuring out the shoulders took a while but eventually I was ready to put the skin back on.

Once I closed the torso up I reached for another tool but fell over, I could barely feel my legs. The pain jarred me out of my tinker fugue and I noticed just how bad I felt, best guess was that I had been standing in the same spot for half a day without drinking or eating. Right on cue my calf started to cramp up and I muffled a scream, Bobby squeaked in concern but after a few minutes of agony I managed to get back on my feet.

I still needed two more steps before I could take a break, one of my hands steadied myself against the table while the other grabbed my weirdest tool.

The bastard mix of a sewing machine and drill, with a water bottle screwed on it somehow functioned as an auto injector. Just looking at it and how much this project was literal trash...

It's not like I need this body to live for more than a month.

I brought my tool to its skin and held down the trigger, deftly gliding it over every inch. The slack and rubbery meat changed, becoming rigid and gaining definition. After a few rounds of injections I had a human torso on my table.

I knew how bad this looks, the bio tinker creating a human body right after her first crime. But I thought this through and realised I don't have that many options.

My first idea after realising my parahuman status was to grow artificial organs or give my stem cell paste to hospitals. The only problem with that is the fact that I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to ingredients. Sure I can slather some paste over a fatal wound and it would close right up, but with the quality of the paste they would develop cancer within the week.

Going to the PRT as a medical tinker and joining the wards would give me the resources and proper lab I'd need to make high quality medical supplies. But it would also lock me into that role, keeping me from using my true abilities. There's no way they'd let me.

I realised my specialisation pretty quickly, Emma and her cohort mocking me, calling me an ugly skank who nobody would willingly touch. In that moment I realised how easy it would be to peel her like an orange, graft those model looks onto myself. When Sophia overpowered me, shoving me down the stairs, I knew how to cut that track star physique up like beef and put it on my bones.

My little miracles like stem cell paste were useful tricks, essentially duct tape, a temporary quick fix that would need to be replaced properly, lest the system it was holding together buckle under its own weight. My powers weren't meant to heal. I was supposed to take living things apart, either to change or take from them. Sure I could use corpses if they were fresh enough by picking and choosing the least rotten parts, but my creations would suffer weaker bodies and short lives. I needed more creations like Bobby, things made with quality materials that would live long enough too need a name.

My city has a villain problem, one that entrenched itself so deep the local prt switched from seeking to uproot them and instead fights an uphill battle for the sake of a delicate balance of power.

I coudl join the prt and only use my non inherently villainous abilities every day from now until I die on nothing but growing organs and making stem cell paste yet it wouldn't result in a better Brockton Bay. Only getting rid of the villains would do that.

And maybe I could, while the body I was making might just end up being a low tier brute it would be able to blend in. Somewhat. I'd pretend it was my teamate and Brockton would effectively have one more hero fighting the good fight.

But what if I made another? What if I made ten? One hundred? What if with the money I'd steal from villains I could fund a personal lab? One with professional equipment, one with materials that weren't half rotten cadavers? Would I be able to create things that are actually strong and not just cannon fodder? What if publicly only a few were shown off while I stockpiled more inhuman creatures until I had a force strong enough to wipe out the villains in one stroke?

Those questions would have to be answered later, I was running on fumes but determined to complete the final step.

Dad has a spare car battery down here, I hooked it up to the torso and turned it on.

Intellectually I knew the torso would spasm but seeing it writhe startled me. I turned the car battery off and put an ear to its chest.

ba-dump. ba-dump. ba-dump.

Slowly its chest began to rise and fall with breath, the motion was off, ribcage inflating far further than a human's should. But a loose costume would hide that.

"It's alive..." I quoted with all the enthusiasm but none of the energy of Dr. Frankenstein. Then I crawled upstairs with Bobby hitching a ride on my shoulder.

xXx

One hot shower and nap later I was a new woman. I made my way back to the basement to complete the job. It was already night again but hopefully I'd finish up before morning.

Creating the skeletal frames for the limbs went smoothly, mammal skeletons were actually incredibly similar between species. Most bones had a counterpart with some changes in proportions which I could easily fix by breaking and fusing them together with stem cell paste.

A few extra dollops of paste on the joints to keep them together and they were ready to be attached, four quick incisions, and the extremities were popped into their sockets. One round of slathering the stem cell paste onto the bones, using the injector, making sure it turned into muscle not bone, smoothing out any lumps and it was complete.

A human body. Or close enough, it was headless since making a convincing head and face was beyond my current skills. And it gave me a convenient excuse why it couldn't talk, I'd say it was a case 53 or had a freaky changer form. It was massive, seven feet tall barrel chested and burly, like it eats bodybuilders for breakfast. I tried to wrap my hands around its arm but my fingers didn't even touch.

Now to test it.

I grabbed Bobby and held him towards the body's neck stump. Instincts I had ingrained in him took over, slowly but surely his tendrils unfurled and dug themselves in. Ten minutes later he was ready.

It started with twitches. Tiny spasms that grew in intensity before the body suddenly sat upright. I backed away as it thrashed, scattering my tools, falling off the table, and slowly staggering to its feet. Bobby would need some practice piloting it but I was just happy it worked.

I handed him an old grip strength trainer my dad forgot about, he didn't immediately get what I was trying to make him do but eventually he clenched his hand and broke it with a startling crunch.

"YES! Yes! Yes! Yes!" I pumped my fist in the air and screamed like a loon. Bobby imitated me and his knuckles cracked the basement's ceiling.

Brockton Bay just got its newest heroic "parahuman".

Chapter Text

The moment I smeared the first bit of stem cell paste on the body a timer started. I had to train Bobby to the point he could walk, run, fight and follow other instructions with it before it starts to go bad.

I had ways of treating the cancers that would develop but those methods only slow the decay, luckily Bobby is special. While in pure intellect he was only somewhat smarter than a dog he picked things up incredibly quickly. Within three days I had trained him to the point where I was confident in taking him out on our first night as capes.

I made some last minute changes to the body, adding some tiny hidden eyes into the neck stump so Bobby would have 360 degree vision, and then all that was left was to suit up. Our costumes wouldn't be stylish, mine was just my normal clothes and a cheap plastic mask while Bobby got a cloth tarp cut and sewn into ugly pants. I just hope we don't run into any heroes, I'd die of shame.

Beyond our threads, I had a collapsible baton, rope, pepper spray, bolt cutters, duffel bag, and one special surprise. I wasn't comfortable giving Bobby a weapon, hell I wasn't too comfortable siccing him on the people we'd raid tonight.

I hadn't designed Bobby with morality in mind, not to say he was bloodthirsty. Just that he's like a guard dog, wouldn't attack for no reason but all the reason needed was my word. At least I could have confidence he'd stop hitting something once it fell to the ground, I was sure to drill him on that with a sandbag that dad had also forgotten about down here.

We waited for nightfall and then snuck out of the house.

xXx

Once we got out of the neighbourhood I had Bobby carry me since the place we'd hit was far away and he was fast. Not quite superhuman speed but thirty miles an hour was nothing to scoff at. For something so big and fast he made surprisingly little noise, managing to travel unnoticed except for one poor person who saw a giant headless half naked man zip past them.

We ventured into the more dilapidated side of Brockton Bay, abandoned warehouses and factories dotted the suburb.

Eventually, we arrived, a warehouse like any other except for the lights inside.

I knew busting an empire dog fighting ring on my first night was a bad idea, but I couldn't wait any longer. I've been finding dead dogs in E88 alleys for weeks, the state in which the corpses were, the sheer pain they must have gone through.

The worst one was this tiny little thing, her eyes had been in miraculously perfect shape when I found her. Those very eyes were used when I made Bobby and every time I looked into his eyes I remembered her, god just thinking about how I found her made me gag.

There's no way I can live with myself if I let a place like that exist.

I had Bobby put me down and we sneaked the last bit of distance towards the warehouse. I saw a guard smoking a dozen feet or so from the entrance, two giant rusted doors hidding the horrors inside from the world.

"Bobby,-" I whispered and he perked up, ready for my command. I pointed at the man and said. "Hurt."

Without a second of hesitation, he walked towards the guard, feet perfectly and evenly placed on the ground in a rhythm that made his approach silent.

Once he was within range he grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, the E88 thug stiffened, anger building in his eyes before he saw what was holding him.

Bobby punched him in the gut, the man doubled over like folded laundry. This was a potential point of failure in my plan, I drilled Bobby to punch where the gut would be on a human but there was the chance he'd misinterpret it on a human and shatter their ribcage like glass, luckily he hadn't. I ran towards the guard, sticking him with a needle and injecting the anaesthetic. Within seconds he was unconscious and I ordered Bobby to drag him into a secluded alley where I put him in the recovery position.

Next, we circled the warehouse, when we reached the back I jumped onto Bobby and pointed towards the roof.

"Bobby, up!"

With a jump he cleared half the wall before digging his fingers into the brick, I screamed but the horrible cheers from within the building drowned it out.

Bobby scaled the wall until we were on the roof, I shakily got off and walked towards a skylight. Looking down I saw a filthy warehouse filled with skinheads and what looked like office workers, they probably came here right after shifts, as if this was normal. They were huddled around a pit, within were two dogs, my heart sank as I registered that one of them lay dead on the floor.

The crowd around the ring was split between cheering and red faced screaming, having either won or lost a bet. My hands clenched into fists, I wanted to hurl my special surprise down on these sadists but I had to check for capes first. During my research into Brockton's villains, and particularly with the E88 dog fighting rings, I discovered that apparently they are run by Hookwolf and his flunkies. I had memorised the appearances of Cricket, Stormtiger, and Hookwolf.

I'd hate to abort this raid if I caught sight of Storm tiger or Hookwolf. Bobby is strong but would be torn to shreds by Hookwolf and Stormtiger could blast him from afar.

My eyes swept the crowds and the table where the bets were placed, I didn't see any capes but I could only see so much, maybe in a different side room one of them was doing something and would come rushing out the moment I put my plan into motion. I stood by the window paralysed with indecision, I thought I could wait to see for a few minutes if either of the two would suddenly come out. But fate forced my hand.

One of the skinheads who looked to be in charge of counting the bets called out to another, and that man rushed off and came back hauling two dog cages.

Screw it.

"Bobby!-" He swivelled towards me. "Hurt."

Bursting through the window, scattering shards of glass everywhere, and landing with a thundering CRASH Bobby brought the warehouse into chaos.

His fists shot out, throwing fully grown men across the room. The more brave or stupid tried to tackle him in groups, hoping to ground him with sheer body weight but Bobby was a runaway train, moving across the floor with unstoppable power and chasing down any who attempted to flee. From somewhere within the chaos Cricket appeared and I tensed but when neither of the men I've been dreading showed up I sighed in relief, I would have preferred it if there weren't any capes present but besides parahuman reflexes and a weird sonic power Cricket was just human.

She grabbed something from her belt and pressed it to her throat, I couldn't make out the words up here since the rough metallic hiss of the device garbled her words. Whatever she said was ignored by Bobby as he continued to stomp around and brutalise his victims.

Cricket did not like that, rushing towards him with her kamas drawn, the moment she got within range Bobby whirled around, launching a strike towards her gut. Cricket avoided it with supernatural grace and backed off a few steps, reevaluating her opponent who apparently had eyes in the back of his non existent head.

Bobby shifted, body language didn't really apply to him but my best guess was that he was unsure about what he should do, he'd tried to follow my "hurt" order but failed.

He must have decided to try again since he walked towards her and shot out his fist, Cricket dodged, dragging her kamas along his arm leaving shallow cuts. She jumped out of the way as Bobby suddenly lurched forward and his other fist passed only an inch away from her.

Bobby and Cricket traded attacks with his fists barely missing her while the collection of shallow wounds on him grew. This was taking longer than I had expected. Honestly, when I read up on Cricket I thought Bobby would easily beat her, but this was starting to look bad.

Most people in the warehouse had either fled and escaped Bobby's wrath or lay crumpled on the ground. A few however had gotten to their feet, none looked like they wanted to throw themselves at Bobby again but if they did Cricket might get the chance to score a serious hit.

Time for plan B, my special surprise.

I grabbed the rag stuffed bottle, fumbling with a lighter before a flame flickered to life. I lit the rag and threw it into the warehouse, I aimed as far away from the dogs as I could while still hitting something that would be flammable.

The bottle shattered, the tiny flame flaring out into an inferno. The men on the ground seemed to find new depths of inner strength as they got up and hobbled away.

Cricket almost didn't dodge Bobby in time as her attention faltered but at the very last second he stumbled and his haymaker went wide.

One of the skinheads who had been at the betting table cursed and called out. "Grab the dogs, bring them outside to the truck!" Before hauling off as many loose stacks of cash as he could and booking it.

When we had circled the warehouse there was this truck parked behind, which must be the one. It was entirely non descript, if it got away there's no way anybody would suspect it of anything and they'd get away with the dogs. I was the only one who could stop them.

I moved to the edge of the roof, down below I could see some thugs already loading dog cages into the back. Their progress was slow since most could barely shuffle a few feet without threatening to fall over but they would be gone within minutes.

It was at least a fifty foot drop, I had rope with me but that was planned for lowering myself calmly and slowly into the warehouse after Bobby cleared any danger.

Screw it.

I tied the rope around an old ventilation exhaust port and tugged on it with all my strength. It held, hopefully it would all the way down.

I grabbed onto the rope and slid down, my feet hit the ground with a thud and the skinhead who had taken charge and grabbed the money turned to me.

"Oh fu-" I cracked him across the face with my baton. The others turned their attention towards me and my resolve wavered, then I looked at the dogs in the cages and stepped over the body.

The first to come at me met the same fate, the next three tried to attack together but they were clearly exhausted in seconds, Bobby probably caused some internal damage but I could worry about that when they weren't trying to gut me.

I remembered my pepper spray and blasted it in an arc across the distance between us, they fell to the ground clawing at their faces before I cracked my baton upon them for good measure. I got ready to chase after the thugs that had decided to run when I heard it.

Sirens and flashing lights, the police, they could deal with arresting everybody here and sorting out the mess with the dogs. Bobby and I needed to be gone in the next three minutes.

I ran towards the dropped stacks of cash, I didn't spare the precious seconds to inspect them as I stuffed them into my duffle bag but even if these were just twenty dollar bills I could- I didn't even know what I could do with all that money.

Shouldering the bag I rushed into the warehouse, smoke was starting to build up and only the fact that most of this place was brick and mortar saved it from having burnt down already.

Bobby and Cricket were still fighting, the flesh on his arms like red ribbons while Cricket was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.

I scanned the warehouse for any remaining dog cages and saw nothing except the table, dozens of stacks were placed upon it, thousands of dollars at least and the only caveat was that Bobby and Cricket were fighting not ten yards away.

Greed for better materials and fear of the police arriving warred within me. I didn't know if they'd let me leave with several grand that they could confiscate for themselves.

I decided to risk it, running for the table and scrambling to stuff my bag.

xXx

The fight raged on alongside the fire, Cricket stubbornly refusing to disengage and the headless brute focused on ending her in one absolute crushing strike. Giant meaty fists swung through the air, cracking concrete as Cricket rolled to dodge and inflicted a small cut upon his arms yet again.

She loved this, a dumb giant brute she could flex her skills against, dodging bone crushing blows by a hair's breadth and always leaving a wound upon her opponent when his blows failed to land. She hasn't felt so alive in a long time, she didn't even care that Brad's dog ring got busted, Melody was solely caught in the ecstasy of a good fight.

And for all his dumb repetitive punching this guy was a fighter, she could see it whenever she cut him, the way he ignored her shallow cuts and only flinched minutely at the deeper slices. It was almost a shame she'd have to cripple him, couldn't let independents think they could fuck with the empire.

As she flipped over another potentially devastating blow she heard something going on outside, her power carrying the faint whisper of violence towards her ear at a crisp volume. Then she remembered that somebody had to have thrown that bottle, no matter she'd get them too, maybe even just cut they're and the big guy’s tendons so they'd burn to death in here. Send a message and whatnot.

She dodged another blow and from the corner of her eye saw a scrawny girl in a hoodie run toward the betting table. Not on her watch.

Cricket jumped over the same punch she'd avoided dozens of times but instead of twirling away with perfect grace she placed her feet upon the fist and used the momentum as a springboard.

On her landing she rolled a few yards before springing up and turning towards the betting table, the girl there didn't have the time to notice her as Cricket brought her Kamas down on her hand. Impaling and sticking it to the table.

She screamed, reflexively trying to pull away from the pain and only making the wound worse. Cricket tore the Kamas towards her, cutting open a slash from her palm to the space between her fingers.

The thrill of violence thrummed within her as she raised her weapon again, It's been too long since she scratched the killing itch, the world faded away around her as she savoured the fear in her victim's eyes.

From across the room, a scream of rage and despair tore through the distance like a bomb, Cricket's eardrums burst, the girl before her was covering her ears with an agonised expression.

Melody didn't hear the thundering charge coming.

xXx

Through tears in my eyes I saw Bobby crossing the room at terrifying speed.

He reached Cricket like a diving eagle, arms swung out wide.

I couldn't react before-

CRUNCH.

Chapter Text

Bobby was crushing the life out of her, arms locked around her midriff like a vice.

For half a moment Cricket was still cradling her ears, before she wheezed and her face twisted into even further agony. In one hand she had managed to keep hold of a Kamas and started hacking at Bobby's arms.

His death gripped tightened with each slash until the weapon struck bone and broke in half, Cricket dropped the useless thing and clawed at his arms.

Her struggle intensified, upper body writhing desperately while her legs dangled limply.

I fought through the agony in my hand and called out. "B-bobby...?"

He remained silent as Cricket began to cry, her face turning red and then blue as her lungs were kept from expanding.

"Bobby!"

My shout caught his attention and he turned towards me, I was about to order him to stop when my eyes met Cricket's. The eyes of a murderer who was half a second away from taking my life.

She didn't look scary anymore, she looked desperate, afraid.

She reached out to me, begging, begging the girl she maimed to save her life.

I couldn't move, couldn't think. I froze up.

And watched rooted to the ground as Bobby continued to hold her in a macabre embrace.

As her fingers broke from pounding against his arms, as her struggles lessened, as she slumped over in his grip.

I snapped out of it.

"BOBBY! DROP IT!"

She fell from his arms and bounced against the floor and lay there, didn't breathe, didn't twitch.

Dead.

I'm dead. The empire won't take her death lying down. Nobody knows it was me but surely they can hire a thinker to figure out who did it and once they find out-

Information rushed through my mind, my power tapping into a reservoir of medical and biological knowledge that made my tinkering possible.

Two collapsed lungs, broken spine, internal bleeding, judging by the slight pulse on her neck veins the heart hasn't ceased yet. Overall diagnosis, Fixable.

This... I didn't have the words. It is a way out, one where there wasn’t a city wide empire sponsered man hunt for any new capes matching my height and build. I just needed to save her, save the life of a murderer, my would be murderer.

Oh god.

I tore off the sleeve of my hoodie and wrapped it around my cut hand, then I shakily stepped towards her, the ringing in my ears drowning out the roaring fire, leaving me in a world where nothing but me and the corpse existed. Or what would soon be a corpse if I didn't get my shit together.

Scanning the warehouse I found a few things that I needed, the kamas blade cricket had dropped, and the dead dog in the pit.

"Bobby, get."

He jumped into the pit and retrieved the cadaver, holding it out to me with one hand gripping its fur. I took it, cradled in my arms as the blood stained my hoodie, and placed it next to Cricket.

I grabbed the blade and cut the dog open, Bobby helped me open up the ribcage when I prompted him. I extracted the lungs and fashioned one of the ribs into a set of needles. Next I cut a line between Cricket's ribs, opening up one of her collapsed lungs and attaching the dog's trachea into the incision with the needles.

I fumbled with Cricket's cage mask until I got it free, I pressed my lips to her cold and lifeless ones, tasting copper as I began to perform CPR.

Her lungs, or rather the dog's lungs began to slowly expand and contract. The slow hiss signaled that the seal of needles wasn't perfectly air tight but it would keep her alive until better materials were available.

The roof creaked, time to bail. I pointed towards one of the walls and shouted.

"Bobby, break!"

With a charge he shattered the brick wall, then I ordered him to carry Cricket while I desperately clung onto his back.

Bobby charged out onto the street, I had expected dozens of police cars and firefighter trucks blasting the warehouse with water. But all I found was one police cruiser and two cops. They had guns drawn on Bobby but he quickly ran down the streets and I steered him through alleyways where the police couldn't follow us. Something felt off, I had heard dozens of sirens rapidly approaching, had they passed us by? Did something else happen in the city?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, I needed to keep focus. My wound wasn't immediately life threatening but if I lost consciousness it would be. I needed to get home, I had stem cell paste left there, enough to keep me and Cricket alive. I'd need to get better materials first thing next day to replace my hand and Cricket's organs or we'd die of cancer within the week.

We cleared another street and my eyes locked onto a pharmacy, through the window I could see it was well stocked. Perfect.

xXx

Nick was on edge the entire night, as a black man working dangerously close to empire territory he had to be. Normally he wouldn't work the night shift but after Karl had ditched his shift last minute the boss made him fill in, Nick really wasn't in a position to argue, after his application to Medhall fell through he needed this job.

So when a giant headless man with torn up arms and a masked person covered in blood entered his shop he assumed the worst.

"I-i don't want any trouble." Nick backed up until he hit the wall, arms raised and eyes flicking between the two. "The store has cameras." The masked person didn't say anything, just staring at him.

"I-i have a family..."

This caused them to react, they took a step back and said. "This... isn't a robbery."

Nick kept his hands up. She pointed towards the shelf behind him. He noticed that the hand was bandaged with a strip of blood soaked cloth.

"That. Give it to me."

He tossed the EPIPen on the counter, the big guy startled and stepped forward, knocking over one of the display racks and almost giving Nick a heart attack. The masked girl moved past him and grabbed the EPIPen and stuck herself with it.

Then she proceeded to list several kinds of medicines, more EpiPens, and protein powder, he didn't ask why. After stuffing them in her dufflebag she tossed a wad of cash on the counter and left.

Nick fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

"I don't get paid enough for this shit."

xXx

After terrorising an innocent civilian Bobby and I ran back to the alley we had put Cricket in, her condition had thankfully only worsened slightly, sticking her with an EPIPen hopefully would help her stay alive.

I ordered Bobby to pick her up and hopped on, the adrenaline from the EPIPen gave me the strength to hang on.

When we reached our neighbourhood I was thankful for the fact that people kept their windows closed and curtains drawn at night around here.

Once we got to my house I ushered Bobby inside and closed the door. One quick check that Cricket was still breathing and then I was off.

I raced down the stairs and dumped the dufflebag on my table, I fished out all the medicines and the protein powder I had "bought" and grabbed two buckets, in both I dumped protein powder and a mix of pills, I grabbed a hammer and crushed the pills into the powder until they were one, next I grabbed one of the water bottles down here.

I dumped the entire bottle into one bucket before grabbing another and dumping it into the other.

Designating the smaller bucket as mine I held my hand over it and let blood drip into it. The substance changed, becoming thicker and losing color, a fresh batch of Stem cell paste.

With the addition of my blood the creation process was massively sped up with the caveat of it only working for me, but with actual medicine and not random household items with trace chemicals I wouldn’t get cancer either.

I unwrapped my hand and stuck it into the bucket, a few seconds later I pulled my hand out and inspected it.

Good as new, any minor callouses I had were erased and there wasn't even a hint of a scar.

Bobby had been standing behind me all this time still holding Cricket. I ordered him to place her on the table, after he did so I grabbed a syringe and drew some blood, injected it into her paste and after a minute I had enough stem cell paste. At least enough to attempt saving her life.

I opened her up, the large intestine was a write off, the lower halves of her kidneys and entire pancreas too. Her lumbar vertebrae were basically just shards of bone.

This was the best case scenario, living without these organs was fatal but not immediately, so I got to work.

I grabbed the stem cell paste by the handful and stuck it to her organs, making sure it formed into the desired ones.

It was honestly underwhelming, the frantic rush to save her life while everything burned down around us, charging through the streets of Brockton Bay fully aware that any moment her lungs might give out again, all of that just to slowly and deliberately piece her together. Like watching a horror movie with no big scare so the tension never goes away.

I rooted around in her one last time, making sure everything was fine and I hadn't left any arteries open.

I closed her up and then just stood over her. She breathed softly, a peaceful expression on her face, all her muscles fully relaxed with not a bit of tension in her frame.

Now that she wasn't going to die I tied her down to the table, I'd rather not get surprised by her waking up and attacking me.

But she didn't wake, didn't fidget, didn’t turn in her sleep, just lay there.

After the first hour I became worried, I grabbed a flashlight and shone it into her eyes.

Nothing. I switched to the other one and still no pupil contraction.

"..."

I rested my hands upon the table and leaned against it, my fingers tapping against the wood.

"..."

All that stress and for what? Nothing. Her being brain dead is just as good as being fully dead.

"..."

"..."

"...no."

I stormed upstairs and grabbed a chair, I brushed past Bobby who had hesitantly followed me and I untied Cricket from the table and bound her to the chair.

From the tray with my tools I grabbed a saw and cut her skull open, with my scalpel I cut out all the dead parts of her brain and threw them in a bucket. Half of it went in there, with the notable exception of her Corona Pollentia.

I was drawn to it, the growth was almost beautiful in a strange way, I shook my head and cleared stray thoughts of taking it out for study. That wouldn't remove her powers, just make it obvious somebody messed with her head.

Carefully I smeared the stem cell paste onto her brain, like a 3D printer I slowly remade it.

Once I was done stem cell paste seamlessly glued the skull back together.

Back on the table with her and then I paced, she should be ready to drop off in front of the PRT building now. But I wanted to make sure she'd be whole.

I shook her by the shoulders and called out in a dry tone. "Hey."

She didn't stir. "Hey!" Still nothing.

My hands clenched, the empire was going to find out who I was and kill me and my dad just because this psycho couldn't contain her murder lust and got herself killed.

I slammed my fist down on her gut, finally, she stirred.

Fine then.

I hit her again, and again, and again. Both of my fists slamming down on her, with each strike she stirred a little more and my fervour intensified.

"Wake up!"

Again.

"You're not going to get me killed!"

Again.

"You hear me!? I'm going to live a long and happy life and you're going to rot in prison for the rest yours! Now WAKE UP!"

With one final slam her body lurched, writhing in her restraints as Cricket screamed.

Chapter Text

Howling like an animal she thrashed around, rope cutting into her as she strained against it.

I felt lightheaded and didn't realise I was falling until Bobby caught me. Cricket screamed again and the room began to spin and tw-

Huh? What? Wasn't there just- nevermind. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and noticed that Bobby had clamped his big meaty hand over Crickets mouth, although with just how huge the thing is it was closer to her lower face and entire throat. I was still slightly dizzy but wouldn't bust my head falling down.

I moved over to the table and looked down at her, she was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring and eyes bloodshot, frantically flicking around the room.

"If-" I tried to put some steel into my words, wanting to sound like I was in charge. "-he lets go of you, will you scream?"

She shook her head and I pulled Bobby's hand off her, surprisingly she kept to her word.

"w-what the fucks going on?" Her voice was strained, strangled in a strange way, that scar on her throat wasn't for show then.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Her eyes met mine with uncertainty. "I-i um I'm not-" her face screwed up. "I don't know..."

I kept silent, hoping my tall stature and the fact that I was a masked and blood covered figure looming over her while she was tied down would intimidate her. It felt... wrong wasn't the right word, she had maimed me and attempted my life. Predatory, that was the right word.

"There was... fire and pain a-and I couldn't move-"

Her eyes grew teary and breath shaky, a killer reduced to this by what I'd done, never mind wrong is the right word for this situation.

"That was the fight." My voice didn't quite soften, closer to less hostility than care.

"What fight?"

"You don't remember?"

"No!"

Huh. That's...not a good sign.

"W-why am I tied down?"

The fact that I didn't seem immediately hostile seemed to give her the courage to start asking questions.

"You... Got severely injured and I had to rush you back here to save your life, I didn't want you panicking when you woke up and getting me or yourself hurt.

"Oh... um ok. Can you untie me now?"

"Why would I do that?"

She tensed, body going rigid as her pupils dilated.

"You're... the one I was fighting."

"Correct."

She flexed against the ropes again, finding as little give to them as she did last time.

"w-why?"

"Because you're a Villain."

"...what?"

Oh no.

"...Im going to start listing things, and you'll tell me if anything jogs your memory, ok?"

She quickly nodded her head. "Mmmhm! Mhmm yeah o-ok."

"You are a villain by the name of Cricket..."

Her face scrunched up in confusion, like she was recalling a dream that had slipped from her mind hours ago.

"I... maybe? I remember Brad and Lars calling me that, but not any... villain stuff?"

"Friends of yours?"

I noticed her expression had softened slightly when she said those names.

"O-oh yeah, we've known each other for- I don't even know how long... I don't... remember? I'm sorry it's all... foggy."

That confirmed it, memory loss. Not total but by how she kept spacing out I wasn't sure how much of Cricket was in there. She kept talking, audibly piecing together whatever memories were left.

"Yeah... It's been at least five years? I remember Brad he... he had a winning streak going. Was strutting around like he had the biggest... muscles? Yeah like he was the strongest guy around for a while, of course that stopped when some guy shanked him a couple dozen times. Huh? What? How did he survive- oh. Oh yeah, he got his powers and exploded into a giant murder meathook and swords... thing."

What.

"What?"

Cricket seemed caught in her memories.

"He killed that guy and a few others I think? Got a lot of heat and attention pulled on him and by extension us. Luckily I- or was it Lars? I'm not sure... one of us DID get powers soon after with the other following shortly."

There is an opportunity here.

"What did you say Brad's and Lars' full names were again?"

Her head tilted back and she bit her lip.

"uuuuuuhhhhhh I'm not sure? Brad's last name has something to do with plants- GRASS! Something with big spaces of grass!"

"Fields?"

"Close? Like it sounded way too poetic and gentle for him, the guy was embarrassed about it but never had the money to change it and once he did he had arrest warrents."

While Cricket rambled on about some inane tiny fragments of a memory that somehow related too this I grabbed a notebook and pen before turning back to her.

"Hey, Cricket? What can you tell me about the empire?"

xXx

Turns out both a lot and nothing at all really. I had endured the home computers crawling internet speed and found out Hookwolfs name was already in the public record, somehow I had missed that during my research into him but I'm guessing it wasn't activly spread around to stop civilians from getting themselves killed trying to assasinate him or something.

"What about Kaiser? Anything interesting about him?”

"Pfft! Nah."

"How?"

"He's a... god what's the word... Coward! Yeah, he's a coward."

This was unexpected, I had assumed that Kaiser was at least liked by his subordinates, before I could ask her to elaborate she launched into another tirade.

"He's so pompous, like, he's always going on and on about how Brockton Bay and the rest of America are under attack by all the minorities all at once, and that we all need to work together to kill them all or something. He's probably racist too but I KNOW he doesn't give a shit about protecting people. He should just own up to the fact that he likes having power and this is how he gets it. You're not the nazi president you're a gang leader! Act like it!"

Cricket started coughing after her outburst, her voice had been straining more and more during her speech, I grabbed a bottle of water and held it too her lips.

"What about Krieg?" I prodded her with a question again, whatever mental state she was in now seemed to lack a lot of inhibitions, mostly focused on trying to piece datapoints in her head together. The speech center in her brain had been in relatively decent shape compared to everything else so this was likely her only way of making the memories coherent.

"I think... he tried to make friends with me one time? We joined the empire out of necessity, not cause we believed in nazism and I guess he wanted to sway us? Anyway, when I... I think I told him to fuck off? He left to go back to his job at Medhall after that."

My pen which had been gliding smoothly across the paper stopped, I looked back up to her and said.

"He works at Medhall?"

"That's what I remember. He's some Board executive or something, never really cared to learn about him."

"What's his name?" I demanded.

"I dunno."

"Is there anything else, and I mean literally anything, about Krieg you do know?"

She just shook her head and I refocused on the paper, writing up possible reasons as to how and why Krieg would work at Medhall. Is he an empire infiltrator? Did he just happen to already work there before becoming parahuman? Is this just for his civilian identity or does he use his position too aid the empire?

"Let's go over the empire capes one last time."

xXx

I spent hours trying to jog memories, prodding her with questions coming from weird angles in hopes she'd go on a tangent and something would come up but no. Nothing, I've fully exploited this opportunity.

Now that Cricket had no information left to pump out of her I was left with a problem I'd need to address sooner rather than later. What to do with her.

Cricket was a murderer, sadistic and cruel in her executions. But this isn't Cricket, not really. Sure she has some memories but through extensive questioning, I've come to the conclusion that Cricket is gone and whoever this is is a new person.

I had literally surgically removed Cricket from her, the bucket with dead grey matter was right next to me. If I drop her off at the PRT building she'd be arrested and charged with the crimes of a dead woman. Then again I can't just let her go, the PRT would just grab her off the street or the Empire would.

For a minute I considered keeping her, teaching her to be a hero with her new lease on life. But that would be exploitation, I could see it now, how easy it would be to guilt trip her for actions she didn't truly commit and making her put herself in danger fighting Brocktons villains. Might aswell give a toddler a gun.

Besides, where would I keep her? With the money I had stolen I could find a place for her but then what? Leave her alone for days at a time? She couldn't leave the house until I learned how to change faces convincingly and I can't just take away her face.

I'd have to hope that the PRT would realise her condition and treat her gently, maybe she gets a reduced sentence, hopefully.

But I had to do something before I could drop her off. I pulled out a syringe and approached her.

"Cricket, I need to inject you with this."

She startled at the needle, a nervous look crossed her face.

"O-ok?"

"Hey, look at me," I said calmly, once her attention was on me I subtly slid in the needle, my power gave me the steady hands of a surgeon and she didn't even notice as I Injected. "this will all be just a bad dream in a moment."

She was out within seconds, I grabbed my drill and made a tiny hole in front of her frontal lobe. I grabbed a wire attached to a small battery and with one tiny shock her memory of the last few hours was gone.

I closed up the hole and ordered Bobby to carry her, together we left the house and ran deeper into the city.

xXx

Melody awoke groggily, a hazy fog shrouded her mind and she looked around in confusion. She was in some dirty alleyway with a weird mask strapped to her face, she got to her feet, and when she turned around she nearly screamed.

Two people, one a giant headless musclebound freak of nature the other a masked figure, were standing there.

"Don't scream." They said, a young girl judging by the voice. She grabbed Crickets arm and lead her towards the mouth of the alley, there she pointed at a building, a shield embossed with the letters P.R.T. was proudly displayed on it.

"Go inside there, tell the people inside you are Cricket, that you are suffering from memory loss and are turning yourself in." She shoved Cricket out of the alley and stared at her.

"h-huh? What? Who the hell are you?!"

The girl didn't answer, only turning back to the giant and whistled, his shoulders tensed, hands curled into fists as he slowly walked towards Melody.

She ran across the street and away from these psychos and after spending half a minute figuring out the door she stumbled in.

The Lobby was empty except for one receptionist, of course it would be, it was the middle of the night. Cricket hesitantly approached the man who hadn't looked up yet. Once she got to the desk he simply said. "Name and purpose of visit?" Without glancing up.

She almost responded with her name but then remembered the scary girl, she looked out a window and saw her, shrouded in the alley’s shadows, blending into the dark as the mask stared into her soul.

Melody turned around and said. "C-cricket. I-I’m turning myself in."

The man paused, gently placing his pen down before looking up at her. When he saw a scarred pit fighter with a cage mask he took a deep breath and pressed a button under his desk.

Immediately alarms started blaring, turrets popped out of the sealing and aimed at her. Within moments she was surrounded by armoured men in black visored helmets.

Next thing Melody knew she was encased in foam.

xXx

Now that I wasn't injured and we were traveling through the denser parts of Brockton, with the taller buildings and bigger rooftops that came with it we tried something I've been dreaming about for weeks.

At my command, Bobby leapt upwards and climbed on top of a building from the rooftop, here we could see Brockton Bay stretching into the distance.

"Bobby!" I threw out my arm and pointed across the street, towards a different roof top. "Jump!"

His grip around me tightened as he charged towards the ledge, at the last moment before we'd plunge to our deaths he kicked off the roof, I screamed in delight as my childhood dreams came to life. We cleared the street and Bobby landed, feet skidding across the rooftop.

"Again!"

Bobby broke out into a sprint and we leapt across another street, at my prompting he kept roofhopping.

At the next jump I put my faith into him holding me, I let go of his arms and spread mine out wide.

"I'm the Queen of the worl-" I choked on my words.

In the distance, fire. Infernos dotting the docks as firefighters desperately contained the flames.

Chapter Text

A trail of scorched asphalt and burnt buildings was blazed through the Docks. The flashing lights of firefighters, police, and the prt lit up the streets alongside the smoldering and flaming wreckage.

"Bobby..." I pointed towards it. "Go."

He leapt across the roof tops, with each cleared street the destruction came into greater focus. Civilians crowded behind police cordons, expression varied between concern, fear or interest.

Teams of rescue workers searched through the rubble and called out to paramedics when they found people trapped underneath. Ambulances snaked through the debris and sped away.

Then it hit me, when I had burned down the dog fighting ring there were only two police officers responding and not a single firefighter. Everyone else was here, dealing with this.

As we approached the police cordon I ordered Bobby to descend into an alley, us intruding without announcing ourselves would cause panic.

I got off him, my first appearance in front of civilians wasn't going to be me being princess carried. My "costume" was already just a mask and Bobby was half naked, we were going to come across as total newbies but this was too important.

At first when we left the alleyway nobody noticed us, everyone too caught up with the destruction. But when a masked person followed by a headless giant pushes their way through a crowd people notice.

They made way for us as we approached the cordon, there was a nervous police man behind it speaking into a walkie talkie as his gaze flicked between us. Before we could reach him a prt trooper in full body armor jogged over and the officer stepped back.

"Hey there,-" The trooper, a woman by the sound of her voice, called out. "Never seen you two around, who might you be?"

From what little body language I could make out from under that suit she must have been tense, even if her voice didn't reflect any of it.

"...I'm Asclepius." I realised I had made a mistake, Bobby didn't have a cover name yet. "He didn't get the time to choose his name."

Her helmeted head turned towards Bobby, or rather his hands. I had taken the time to change my clothes and scrub off any blood after finishing up with Cricket, but had totally forgotten about Bobby beyond fixing up his arms! The blood had long since dried, painting his fingers and palms a dark red.

"...Today wasn't supposed to be our first public appearance."

The awkward silence was extinguished when somebody else came by, a hero, an actual real life hero of the protectorate. I would have thought his golden lion helmet would have been tacky if Triumph wasn't covered in dust and ash.

"You here to help?" He sounded tired, defeated but running on grim determination.

"Y-yes."

"Good, what are your powers?"

I gestured at Bobby. "He's strong and tough, I'm a healer."

His head snapped back to me, relief and doubt mixed in his voice. "Really?"

I took a breath, I'd need to sell this convincingly. "Medical tinker, I don't have any of my tools or supplies with me but I'll still be better than any human surgeon or paramedic."

He put his fingers to the side of his head, probably listening in to an earpiece. After a few moments he turned to the trooper and said. "Take her to the medical tent-" Then to Bobby. "-and you, come help clear rubble with me."

Bobby silently stared and I scrambled to explain his taciturn attitude. "H-his powers messed with his... head. I need to give him directions sometimes." I whistled, not wanting to name drop him, pointed at Triumph, and said. "Copy."

We stood awkwardly for a second before Triumph walked off towards crews of emergency responders that were clearing debris, Bobby following closely behind, matching his every step.

The trooper coughed into her fist to signal it was time for us to leave.

xXx

The medical tent was a hastily constructed thing, a crowd of people sat around it, either on the ground or on larger pieces of rubble. Some were sobbing, holding onto what must be family tightly, or curled up alone, most just had a shell shocked expression on their faces.

I was ushered into the tent and saw a far more disturbing sight. Dozens of tables where people with severe burns or other injuries were surrounded by medical professionals, in the center of them was a figure I instantly recognised. Panacea, treating the most critically injured.

Several guards within the tent noticed our arrival and questioned my escort, when she told them about my power one of them walked over to Panacea and she perked up, her eyes locking onto mine.

"Let her through."

The troopers returned to their positions and I ignored the furious pounding of my heart as I walked towards her. Up close she seemed haggard, clearly having spent the last several hours rescuing lives. The look in her eye screamed disassociation, as if even when she was elbow deep into somebody's guts she'd be a thousand miles away.

"How far does your healing go?"

I nearly flinched at her demand and stammered. "Depends on the tools, I don't have mine with me but with just a doctor's kit I should be able to save anybody who still has a few minutes of life in them."

She called over to somebody and they brought me a paramedic's kit. "I can't just take your word so-" She gestured to the person who was lying on her table, an older man pale in the face, his left arm torn off but placed next to him. "-I'll need you to prove it. I've already sealed the wound and any internal damage but when he arrived his arm expired too much for my power to count it as alive. Can you help him?"

I nodded and grabbed the kit, rifling around in it before finding a scalpel and some other useful things. When I prepped the anesthesia needle Panacea told me she had already turned off his pain. So I just opened up the skin on the stump, the severing point was remarkably clean on both ends so reattachment went smoothly. I pulled at the arm to see if it would hold.

"The hell was that?"

Some of the doctors glanced up before returning to their work. Mortified I looked down to see if I had somehow put it on the wrong way but no, it was a completely healthy arm. I turned my face towards her and asked. "What do you mean?"

She put a hand on the arm and her brow furrowed. "You didn't even use a tool, just held them together for a second and... it's fixed?"

Now that I thought about it that shouldn't have worked. Fixing Cricket had been a step by step process where I needed to think things over, needed to actually do something, but somehow I knew that it would work instinctively.

Panacea took her hands off the man. "It doesn't matter how it works, it just needs to. We can figure it out later." As if on cue two people carrying a stretcher with a woman on it burst into the tent, her leg had been ripped off and Panacea pushed me towards the table next to her before calling out. "Bring any amputees with found limbs to her!".

I had proven myself, little nobody Taylor Hebert had earned the confidence of the world's greatest healer. Pride swelled in my chest but I tamped down on it as I focused on saving the woman's life.

We worked, like clockwork rescue workers carried the injured and dying into the tent, the latter was far more common, people lucky enough not to get caught in the chaos or only sustain minor wounds had been taken to hospitals long ago. Now only the people who had been stuck under rubble for hours, those who went untreated with severe injuries for several hours, remained to be saved.

Panacea and I made a fantastic team, I couldn't match the sheer depth she could heal but neither could she my speed, often the people who arrived at our tables would get off mine before Panacea got really started. This freed her up to worry only over the absolute worst injuries while I either fixed others by myself or kept them stable until she could.

The stream of injured kept steady for hours before finally starting to slow. During a quiet minute when none were brought to me, I leaned against the table. It had been a very long day, fighting several grown men, getting maimed, saving Cricket's life and then bringing her back from brain death, questioning her, and now this. I was running on fumes.

Luckily Panacea noticed. "Hey, can I use my powers on you? Give you enough energy to get through this?"

I nodded absent mindedly and gasped as I was suddenly wide awake, bursting with energy as my posture straightened. "That's... something."

She didn't smile but some levity entered her voice. "I told your adrenaline glands to work overtime for the next few hours, alongside some other minor things." She pulled out a thermos and shook it a bit. "Armsmaster gave me some tinker coffee that basically does the same thing, we'll both crash hard later. Really hard. Make sure to get home after this."

We both looked at each other for a minute, I wasn't great at small talk, scratch that I didn't do small talk at all. I racked my mind over something to say before it got awkward but she beat me to it.

She brought her hand up, somehow clean of blood. "Amy Dallon, Panacea."

I grasped her's without thinking and winced when my gloved hand smeared blood on hers. "Asclepius."

Her lips tugged upwards. "Really? Relax, this isn't even the worst thing to get on my hand within the hour." After a slight squeeze she let go and the blood flaked off her hand and dissolved into nothing.

Before an awkward silence could form I spoke up. "Does it get easier?"

Amy's lips turned down, I was about to apologise before she responded. "No, it gets more distant. After the first few hundred people you save it becomes routine, but a situation like this is never easy."

"Must feel like you've got the world on your shoulders." I blurted out, I didn't know where I got the nerve to speak so bluntly.

Panacea scoffed. "I've got a loving family, a roof over my head, and I never go hungry. There are billions who have it worse."

She turned towards me, her expression changed, no warmth nor any anger. Just pity. "You'll understand soon enough."

Chapter Text

After seven hours of work the flow of injured completely stopped, we stayed in the tent for a while longer but soon enough we received news that no more people were trapped underneath rubble. Something to do with a tinker tech scanner which had been able to pinpoint so many victims in the first place.

When we left the tent we emerged to the rising sun bathing the ruined yet cleared docks, I was shocked but accounting for parahumans it made sense how so much destruction could be cleared in one night. All that was left were organised piles of rubble which didn't interfere with the road.

"Well this is it, see you later Asclepius" Amy and I exchanged goodbyes and she walked off towards a car where I could see an exhausted Glory girl sleeping in the back.

I looked around for Bobby, honestly I was kinda worried, he had never been left alone around people. Before I could panic I spotted him, or rather spotted Armsmaster trailed by an exhausted Triumph and dust covered Bobby.

My creation perked up and jogged over, almost shoulder checking Triumph. Besides being caked in ash and grime Bobby seemed just as full of energy as always, then again thats not his real Body. I remembered the positive reinforcements used to train him and raised my hand.

"High five."

His hand clapped against mine and I winced, they were already sore from everything today and Bobby could hurl a car.

"Asclepius?"

I remembered that Bobby didn't come over by himself and looked up and saw Armsmaster, seven feet of power armored hero in all his glory. My inner child reared its head from the recesses of my mind with an ear splitting shriek of glee.

"Y-yes!"

"I would like to extend the Protectorates, along with my own gratitude towards you."

I fidgeted with my sleeves and was grateful my mask hid my face. "Oh, it was nothing." I hadn't even managed to save all my patients.

"Three hundred and forty seven isn't nothing."

I looked up at him, the non sequitur taking me by surprise. "Huh?"

"The guards of the medical tent were issued with standard prt officer body cameras, the ones of the PRT ENE are linked to one of my systems which-"

Triumph coughed into his hand, signaling Armsmaster to cut short his speech. "What I mean to say is that your efforts tonight have saved the lives of 347 people, each one of them will return to their families, or at least get the chance to pick up the pieces of their lives. Something only possible because of you."

He offered me his hand, reflexively I grabbed it, while cold the gauntlet's grip was surprisingly gentle. "You are a hero Asclepius."

I blue screened, I'm embarrassed to say I've daydreamed about this exact situation, minus the mile long trail of destruction.

"And thus I am offering you an invitation to the wards."

My body tensed up, I've been expecting this but it still made my breath hitch.

"I... can't."

Armsmaster didn't miss a beat, launching into a preprepared speech, mentioning survival rates over a six month period and Tinker budgets, I tuned it out even though the passion he showed in recruiting me made my heart ache.

"-beyond that what about him?" He pointed at Bobby. "Case 53's have no legal identity and thus no passport nor citizenship, the Protectorate and PRT could provide any and all legal services free of charge for him too-"

This was bad, I needed to get attention off of Bobby, closer scrutiny would reveal a severe lack of intelligence and this would give them legal grounds to investigate his age or mental faculties, if they concluded that he wasn't fit to be responsible for himself, which they would, he would be taken away from me.

Then it was only a matter of time before they realised he wasn't a cape at all.

"He's not a case 53!" Wincing at my volume I pushed forward. "I-I knew him before he became this." I said while vaguely gesturing at Bobby, technically everything I said was true but the sting of lying to one of my heroes didn't soften.

He tilted his head by a fraction, I barely noticed the tiny twitches in his expression, his mouth stiffening into a pressed line. The tension grew awkward between us but thankfully Triumph broke it.

"The Wards are a big decision, it changes your life. Joining on a whim is a bad idea, but you shouldn't dismiss it so fast either. What about this, in a few days after everyone had some downtime we could arrange a meeting with you and some wards, maybe even get some of your tech tested so you can be a certified healer?"

Armsmaster jumped on that last proposal. "While in situations like this regulations can be slackend, if you wish to heal regularly you will need to be certified-" He put his hand up before I could think to protest. "-this isn't because we believe you to be untrustworthy, but because many powers have secondary effects that the parahuman themselves is unaware of that may be potentially harmful."

This was actually a really good point, I had been planning to heal on the side while building up my creations and if there was any chance that my powers had a side effect I'd need to know.

"...In a few days I could atleast get certified."

Armsaster's lips quirked up, fuck, he had the smile of a movie star. On his halberd, a tiny compartment opened up and a card popped out, did he seriously add a business card dispenser in that thing?

"My personal number alongside a private PRT hotline."

I pocketed the card and just before leaving I remembered a question that's been gnawing at me.

"Armsmaster?-" He paused climbing his motorcycle and turned towards me. "What happened here?"

The faint smile on his face died, his grip on the handlebars tightened. "Lung." He spat.

I knew of him, everyone in BrocktonBay did, the most powerful cape in the city who fought off the entire protectorate as his first act in Brockton Bay.

"Why would he-" I looked around, the husks of buildings lining the street like a grim mile long parade. "...why?"

"Because he's an animal." The hate in his voice made something in my gut twist. "Because he thinks chasing a group of thieves is worth killing anybody who is at the wrong place at the wrong time."

After a few seconds of silence, he simply got onto his bike and sped off. Triumph must have noticed my regret and said. "He's not angry at you for asking, just angry that this... tragedy happened. Definitely that he wasn't fast enough to stop it. Also at what she made us do."

"She?"

His tone hardened, solidifying like ice with just as much frost. "Zesshi Zetsumei. One of Lungs flunkies."

That name brought up some memories, something about a cape joining the ABB around a year ago? I thought it was just a rumour since she never showed herself in public. I think her power is about being able to trick people?

"A few of us will have to go into M/S screening once we get back, her power seems to only last a few seconds but it's... potent."

I thought to ask but I didn't want to do that to him, he radiated defeat, I could just look it up later.

We parted and then I was being carried across rooftops and through the streets by Bobby, if we hurried we would make it home before people left their homes.

xXx

I opened the door and ushered Bobby inside, gave him the "get out of the suit." command, and then I had a headless body on my floor.

I shambled up the stairs, feeling the incoming crash looming over me I quickly put Bobby in his hamster cage.

As I was climbing into bed the exhaustion hit me with the fury of a thousand vengeful coffee pots, instantly slumping over I fell into unconsciousness.

xXx

Pain. Pain. Life is pain and I've never felt more alive.

I woke up face first in my pillow covered in drool, for a moment I worried over having crushed my glasses but they were on my nightstand. After wiping my face I looked outside and saw that it was evening. Again.

My limbs were sore and feet beyond pain, but I forced myself out of bed. Bobby noticed my waking and began squeaking at me, probably hungry, at that thought my stomach clenched and I realized I hadn't eaten in a day on top of everything else.

I planted Bobby onto my shoulder and carefully traversed the stairs, my hands keeping a twin death grip on the banister. The descent went smoothly but I did trip over the meatsuit in the middle of the living room.

Rifling through the fridge I noticed we were running low on, well, everything. Dad had left me 100 bucks before leaving for Boston on his business trip, he had also left a list of groceries which would last me until he got back.

Unfortunately, I had spent the cash on supplies for tinkering so our meal was just me chugging milk while Bobby got the few eggs left.

After the second worst breakfast of my life I went downstairs, the stench of blood from last night's operation was still clinging to the air. I ignored it and focused my attention on the loot, one entire duffel bag stuffed with money. Admittedly it was a rather small bag but still it was filled to the brim.

I hefted the spoils onto the table and began counting, the stacks were messily split between either being entirely matching bills or so diverse that I had to count each individually.

One thousand. Two thousand, three, four, five, the numbers kept climbing higher and higher alongside my disbelief. Once I crossed fifteen thousand I started over, convinced I had made a string of serious miscalculations but no, I was right. I continued and let out a hollow chuckle once I counted the last bill.

37,829 Dollars. Almost FORTY THOUSAND in cash. My knees felt weak. I had to sit down on the cold floor and pace my breath.

This was- this was insane! I had hoped for a few thousand at most! Planned to raid empire rings and stashes over the course of months to build up funds, this would speed up my plan, maybe by an entire year!

I slumped on the ground with my limbs splayed, eyes growing bleary.

I was crying, why? Why now? I hadn't cried yesterday. This was good news! I could stop the Villains sooner! I could stop anything like yesterday happening again-

Oh. It hit me, I was crying because I wasn't there to stop them yesterday. I was finally a hero but too late. Intellectually I knew this was stupid, I didn't choose to get my powers recently, I didn't choose for Lung to rampage and kill all those people. But I didn't care about that right now. I had spent the night shoving guts inside dying men, women, and children. Literally piecing them back together, I had even failed a few times, people died on my table.

I didn't blame myself, I knew exactly who to blame, Lung. Him and all the other Villains who think they can stomp all over innocent people's lives. I would make them pay. But not today, today I'd let out all the stress and pain of yesterday, and tomorrow I would enact the first true step in ridding Brockton Bay of its problems.