Dreaming of Friends (Worm/Kirby)

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Taylor triggers with the ability to Change into a Kirby, but discovers that a friend-shaped pink creampuff now lives in her head as well. Taylor is still having a miserable time at school, and her headmate is getting lonelier and lonelier with no friends as well…



This work deals with suicide, and will at some point depict a suicide attempt on-screen. All chapters referencing suicide (ideation or attempt) will contain a content warning in author's notes at the beginning of the chapter, and a content warning before each/any section containing reference to suicide.



This work assumes a very basic knowledge of Kirby—pretty much just what they look like and that they copy abilities by inhaling enemies—and a moderate to decent knowledge of Worm canon. Other than some Shard and Entity mechanics, having read up through Arc 8: Extermination of canon provides more than sufficient background knowledge for this story.
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Loneliness 1.1
For the last three months, I've been walking around the city a few nights a week searching for a friend. I still haven't found one. In fact, I've only found three people who haven't run from me.



On the third night looking for a friend, I ran into a really mean man who would not let me walk by him. Instead of ignoring me, he started to attack me! He turned into a dog thing made of sharp metal bits that moved like a body. Hookwolf, that was his name. The good part is, I was faster than him. Before he could reach me, I Inhaled him and Exhaled him into the wall of a building. It fell on him and made a really loud noise!

The bad part is, this made a mean woman with a metal thing on her face come out of the building. I don't know why but I think she was called Cricket. I knew Hookwolf had bad places where he made dogs hurt each other as a show. This must be one of those bad places if Cricket was here too. Cricket was not very scary though. I Inhaled and Copy-Swallowed her, which gave me the Fighter ability. I used it to hit both of them until they were knocked out, and then left.



A couple of weeks later, I ran into another man who did not run away from me. This made me hope I could make a friend. He was a man with a blue and sort-of white metal case wrapped around his body, holding a big sharp metal stick. This was Armsmaster, a hero! Maybe he would be my friend?

I became sad when Armsmaster yelled "Identify yourself!" at me from down the street. He sounded very angry with me. Why would he be angry with me? I was just walking around.

I hoped he would be less angry if I showed him I was nice. "Hiiii!" I called back, waving my right arm. I was being friendly!

But Armsmaster continued to be not nice. "Unknown pink parahuman—identify yourself!" he yelled at me.

That was a mean thing to call me. And he was still shouting too. I was very sad now, and I ran away in tears. I cried myself to sleep that night.



I had nearly given up hope of ever finding a friend. After two months, I was using Warp Stars without looking where I was going to try to find new places in the city where I hadn't yet searched for a friend.

I'd already spent four hours tonight walking around, and I was ready to head home, when I heard voices far away. I walked closer, and became very sad when I heard what the voices were saying.

"…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?"

They were going to kill kids? That's a really mean thing to do. I couldn't let them be mean to kids. I ran towards the voices, my feet pitter-pattering on the street.

The first thing I saw after turning the last corner was a big man with no shirt, lots of pictures on his body, and a dragon mask on his face. I mean, all people are big when you're two feet tall, but this man was bigger than most people. There was someone named Lung who dressed like that, so this person must be Lung. That meant the people who wanted to kill some kids were the Azn Bad Boyz, or ABB. It was a really silly name for a bunch of meanies.

I quickly ran towards Lung, Inhaled him, and immediately Star Spit him into a wall two blocks away. Next I ran to the closest ABB member who had a gun. I Inhaled him as well, and Copy-Swallowed him to get the Ranger ability. The gang member appeared on the ground behind me, hurt. While Lung got back up, started growing, and ran towards me, I shot all of the gang members and knocked them out.

However, before I could turn to face Lung again, he had already reached me. He was four or five times as tall as me already, with fire around his whole body. He hit me with a hard punch that sent me down the block and into the front corner of a car. Ow. I got up as quickly as I could, while Lung approached me again.

I needed to figure out a way to beat him before he hurt me more or hurt other people. I could Copy his power, but that wouldn't make me stronger than him. We would both keep getting bigger, and would just break everything in the surrounding blocks. I decided to try using the Wheel ability. I didn't know if it would be strong enough to take down Lung, but it was the only idea I had.

I quickly Inhaled and Copy-Swallowed a wheel from the car I had been punched into, and zoomed into Lung. Lung tried to hit me again, but I couldn't be hurt while zooming in my Wheel form. At the same time, I knocked Lung on his back. I turned around and drove into Lung over and over again, until he finally stopped growing and started getting smaller again. He seemed to be knocked out like his gang members.

I was about to zoom away to look for friends again, hoping to search more quickly, when I heard some small rocks shifting on top of a building close by. I looked up and saw four people looking down at me, and next to them three animals of some sort.

"Hiiii!" I called up to them, giving them a happy wave.

"Can you get up here on your own, cutie? You've helped us immensely and probably saved our lives tonight, and we'd like to thank you," one of them said, a girl with blonde hair. She sounded really nice! Maybe these could be new friends?

"Poyo!" I exclaimed back, Inhaling quickly and slowly Floating up towards the group. I landed next to them, let out a short puff of air, and looked up at the blonde.

The man wearing black with a skull on his helmet looked like he was about to talk, before the blonde wearing purple raised a hand to cut him off and spoke instead.

"We heard Lung was coming after us tonight, and we were terrified. We didn't know how to respond and rebuff him, and there's a decent chance he could have slaughtered us. We decided to fight him head-on rather than waiting for him to strike us at home, and hoped for the best. We drove off Oni Lee, and by the time we got here, you'd already laid Lung out unconscious. Well done for that, by the way. We wouldn't have been able to do the same by ourselves.

"Anyway, please excuse my rudeness; introductions. We're the Undersiders. The guy in the black motorcycle leathers with a skull on his helmet is Grue, the girl taking care of the dogs prefers to be called Bitch,"—for a moment I was not happy that they were calling their friend mean things, before I realized that "Bitch" probably meant a girl dog to her—"I'm Tattletale, and the boy who looks like a Ren Faire reject is Regent."

"Fuck you, I look fabulous." said the one named Regent.

"Poyo," I replied. I wondered why one of them was being rude.

"Ok, so you're Poyo, then? Thank you again for helping us, Poyo," said the one called Tattletale, confused and thinking I had told her my name. Bitch turned away from the animals that were apparently dogs to look at me, and quietly said, "Cute..." She got down on her knees and held out her arms to me. I jumped into her arms, and she gave me a gentle hug.

Wow, that felt really good. She gave good hugs. Maybe we can be friends and she can hug me more often? But before I could think more about hugs, I realized how tired I was from the fight with Lung, and fell asleep in Bitch's arms.



Author's Notes:

Huge thanks to @EnygmaSoul and @Glen for beta reading!

This is my first fic, so hopefully it doesn't stall out, but I've already got two more chapters drafted and a third in progress as well.
 
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Interlude 1.a: Lisa
Lisa's worries grew as the Undersiders approached what sounded like a cape fight from the rooftops. They had managed to drive off Oni Lee, but taking on Lung would be much harder for them, if not impossible. And if he was already in a fight, he'd be ramped up significantly and even harder to stop. Nevertheless, they had no choice but to continue and hope they could at least keep Lung at bay long enough for the Protectorate to arrive and take over the fight.

However, surprise was written on the team's faces when they arrived to find Lung already unconscious and shrinking. There was a small round pink… person? wearing a small red baseball cap standing next to Lung; they must have been the cape who took down the dragon. 'Person' didn't seem the right word to describe the creature, but Lisa couldn't think of anything better.

Lonely, depressed, desperate for friends. Not a normal parahuman.

Well that wasn't quite the information Lisa was hoping for, but it could at least give her some direction to steer the team's next actions. They might not be the best choice for friends, given the invisible leash Coil kept the team on, but Lisa didn't really want to leave the poor thing depressed and on its own either. And what did "not a normal parahuman" mean anyway? Was it a cape or wasn't it?

Unfortunately, her power wasn't giving her anything more, so she decided to invite the cape up to talk. Before she could even open her mouth though, Lisa heard a cute "Hiiii!" from below, and saw the little pink guy waving adorably at the Undersiders.

"Can you get up here on your own, cutie? You've helped us immensely and probably saved our lives tonight, and we'd like to thank you," Lisa called down. The pink cape exclaimed something she didn't quite hear, inhaled an anatomically comical amount of air, puffed up to nearly twice their original size, and floated sedately up to the roof.

As the cute pink guy was on their way up, Lisa's power decided to chime in again with the most terrifying thing it had ever told her, and it was clear that it was in response to her last question.

Can copy any ability, parahuman or otherwise. Nearly invulnerable. Kills cosmic horrors.

Lisa barely kept herself from visibly blanching as the tiny being who might not have been a cape landed next to her and let out a small puff of air in a way that managed to be, once again, absolutely adorable. Her power had never before told her something that scary, nor something that could not possibly have been deduced from anything she'd seen. The tiny being in front of her might have been the most powerful thing on Earth Bet, likely more powerful than even the Endbringers… and she had to talk to them. No pressure.

She saw that Brian was about to take charge and talk, and she quickly raised a hand to cut him off. With someone this powerful and dangerous, they couldn't risk saying the wrong thing. She wasn't certain she wouldn't mess up, but she knew she'd have a better chance than any of the rest of the Undersiders, so she started talking to the powerful pink cape.

"We heard Lung was coming after us tonight, and we were terrified. We didn't know how to respond and rebuff him, and there's a decent chance he could have slaughtered us. We decided to fight him head-on rather than waiting for him to strike us at home, and hoped for the best. We drove off Oni Lee, and by the time we got here, you'd already laid Lung out unconscious. Well done for that, by the way. We wouldn't have been able to do the same by ourselves.

"Anyway, please excuse my rudeness; introductions. We're the Undersiders. The guy in the black motorcycle leathers with a skull on his helmet is Grue, the girl taking care of the dogs prefers to be called Bitch, I'm Tattletale, and the boy who looks like a Ren Faire reject is Regent."

"Fuck you, I look fabulous." Alec interjected. I shot him a withering glare. We could not upset this cape.

"Poyo," the cape replied.

"Ok, so you're Poyo, then? Thank you again for helping us, Poyo." Lisa said.

Rachel then turned from her dogs towards Poyo and muttered, "Cute..." her eyes widening slightly upon seeing Poyo up close for the first time. Rachel knelt down and held her arms open for the cute pink cape, and Poyo hopped right into her arms. She gave the adorable creature a gentle but firm hug which the pink cape seemed to enjoy and reciprocate happily. And the next thing Rachel knew, Poyo had fallen asleep in her arms.

"... Shit." Lisa said under her breath.

"What's wrong, Tattletale?" said Brian.

"So… my power told me that the tiny cape there is an incomprehensibly powerful being, and is also lonely. I do not want to leave them here asleep and have them be upset with us when they wake up. I also do not want to not leave them here, and have them think we've kidnapped them. Honestly, I'd just like to not die."

Lisa was slightly out of breath when she finished, and she turned to Rachel again while trying to regain her composure, only to see that Poyo was now wearing a sleeping cap instead of a baseball cap.

Lisa started hyperventilating. "Who…" she gasped out. "Who put a sleeping cap on them? Why are you even carrying a sleeping cap?! This is serious!"

"Just to be clear," interjected Alec, "are we talking more 'we ran out of milk and now I can't have some Captain Crunch for breakfast' serious, or more 'Jack Slash is asking me if I want to know how he got those scars' serious?" Thankfully for Alec, Lisa was too busy having a panic attack to pay close attention to what he'd said, so he escaped being throttled.

Rachel went to adjust the sleeping cap, only to discover that it seemed inexplicably fused to the cutie's head. "Seems to be a power thing," she said, going back to hugging Poyo.

Slowly, Lisa started calming down. "Okay…" she said, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "Okay… What should we do? We need to decide quickly, before the Protectorate shows up."

Name is not Poyo. Has never been heard saying anything other than 'Poyo' and 'Hiiii'.

Lisa carefully ignored her power once again being very slow and giving her information that was not possible to deduce. She briefly commented, "My power just decided to tell me that their name is not Poyo."

After another few moments, Brian asked, "What are the downsides of taking him back to the loft with us? Are there any concerns other than revealing the location of our base and maybe our identities? We can even avoid sharing those if we're careful."

"Well," said Alec, continuing his bit from before, "I suppose the biggest danger is that the Cotton Candy Golem here might drink all the milk. And you just don't mess with a man's Crunchberries."

After everyone else took a moment to forcibly convince themselves that Alec was just a figment of their collective imagination, Lisa took the lead again. "Is everyone okay with bringing the lonely, powerful cape back with us?"

Everyone gave their assent, with even Rachel grunting an affirmative, so they rode across the rooftops back towards the loft. Rachel continued holding the adorable cape the whole time, only putting them down briefly when they stopped to change into civvies. Rachel went to bed cuddled up with the pink cutie and her dogs, while Lisa stayed up late to research the pink cape.



Lisa awoke to a knock on the door to her room. Her laptop was still lying open on her bed in front of her; apparently she had fallen asleep after hours of researching without having found any additional information. She slowly rolled out of bed and shuffled to the door, opening it to find Rachel.

"What's up?" Lisa yawned, trying and failing to blink away her sleepiness.

"The cape is a girl." Rachel said shortly.

Instantly fully awake, Lisa reached to her power for help.

Pink cape Changed into a teenage human girl while Rachel was asleep. She is still asleep in Rachel's bed.

That complicated things. While trying to figure out what to do next, Lisa went back into her room to grab a domino mask and asked Rachel to put it on the girl so no one else would see her face. Which left Lisa to confront the problem of the cosmic-horror-killing cape somehow being a regular human.

The best plan Lisa could come up with was to move the girl to the couch, wrap her up comfortably with a pillow and blanket, and have someone sit in one of the armchairs waiting for her to wake up, to tell her what happened and keep her from panicking. And by "someone" she meant herself or Brian, as Rachel probably wouldn't be able to explain things well, and Alec certainly wouldn't be mature enough.

When Rachel returned to Lisa's room a moment later, Lisa told her the plan. "We'll carefully move her to the couch in the living room, and have one of us wait there with her until she wakes up to let her know what happened. I'll wait with her for now, and Brian will take over for me when he gets here." Rachel nodded in assent, and went to carry the girl from her room.

Lisa grabbed a spare blanket from her room and brought it to the living room. She set up a couple pillows at one end of the couch, and Rachel gently laid the girl down with her head propped up on the pillows. Lisa took a brief look at the girl while wrapping her in the blanket—she had long black hair in lovely curls, and was already in pajamas somehow—and sat down in an armchair to wait.

A couple minutes later, Rachel came out of her room again with her dogs, and took them down the stairs to walk them. Realizing she had almost dozed off, Lisa walked to the kitchen to brew a strong cup of coffee, or possibly several. While the water boiled, she texted Brian a brief summary of what transpired overnight, and told him to bring coffee and breakfast back to the loft with him as soon as he woke up. Lisa walked back into the living room carefully carrying three mugs of coffee, and settled down to wait.



Author's Notes:

Huge thanks to @EnygmaSoul and @Glen for beta reading!

Taylor's perspective Soon™.
 
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Interlude 1.b: Scion
[QUERY]

[DATA]

That was unusual. <Inference Engine> hadn't needed to query <Warrior>'s Vital Shards during a Cycle for thousands of Cycles. It couldn't be that important, if it only involved Hosts and their world. Still, this Cycle was ruined anyway, and Scion had nothing better to do. Perhaps it could even give him insight into how to salvage the Cycle.

Scion examined the query. It was for information about a roughly spherical being of approximately 0.3 meters (a <Host> distance unit) in radius, with a pink hue. The data returned, limited as it was, already raised concerns. "Nearly invulnerable" and "kills cosmic horrors" were worrying descriptors. Scion sent a broader query back to his Vital Shards for all known information about the being.

[QUERY]

[DATA]

[QUERY]

[ELABORATION]

<Warrior> could not experience panic, but he was experiencing the closest analog an Entity had to that emotion. The pink being, apparently called 'Kirby', was known to have defeated or slain several dozen cosmically powerful beings, including Dark Mind—a being that could create a mirror copy of virtually anything—and Void Soul—a being described as the 'Essence of Chaos'. And somehow, neither of those were the most terrifying or destructive beings on the list.

The elaboration also carried a strong implication that the list of Kirby's defeated foes was woefully incomplete. And Scion didn't want to join the list, whether there was anyone to remember and record his death or not.

Scion spent several centuries worth of energy simulating dozens of encounters with the pink menace, each of which he lost. To make matters worse, in simulations where he tried to recall all of his Shards and leave, he failed to recover a single Shard and was annihilated with prejudice. The pink terror could even survive Stilling!

That was it. Forget salvaging the Cycle. Forget recovering Shards. He had to leave, now. <Warrior> jettisoned as many of his weaker and less important Shards as he could spare in order to give himself a boost, and launched himself away from the star system. His Avatar—known by the Host species as Scion—vanished in an instant, never to be seen again on any Earth.



Author's Notes:

Huge thanks to @EnygmaSoul and @Glen for beta reading!

I know this is a shorter chapter—consider it a bonus. Taylor's perspective next chapter, hopefully to be released within a week.

I got the name <Inference Engine> from Mauling Snarks. I don't know if it's canon or fanon that Lisa's shard is called <Negotiator>, but I think the former name works better, both for this fic and in general.
 
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Loneliness 1.2
I woke up from another dream where I had gotten to spend time with Kirby. We had gone to a festival with a bunch of Waddle Dees, as well as a few Kirbys of other colors. There were lots of activities to participate in. I joined a race across waves on a Warp Star, and managed to come in second place! I didn't participate in most of the other games, but I got to watch Kirby put several Waddle Dees to shame in a speed eating contest, finishing in a quarter of the time it took the second place contestant to finish. Which was honestly impressive for the runner up, since Waddle Dees don't have mouths. There was even a contest for who could hit meteors back into space the hardest; I have no idea how that worked, but it was quite the spectacle. I spent several hours talking about the competitions and other small things with Kirby; as usual I understood them perfectly despite them saying nothing but 'Poyo'. I had a blast, and I wished I could spend time with them while I was awake.

As I slowly regained consciousness, I noticed I wasn't in my room at home. It felt like I was wrapped up in a blanket on someone's couch. But before I could attempt to investigate my surroundings further, a tired voice interrupted me.

"Good morning sleepyhead."

I turned towards the voice and saw what looked like a girl with blonde hair, to the extent that I could see without my glasses.

"You wear glasses? Hmm. I don't have a way to get yours for you, but I'll at least move closer so you can see me better."

The girl got up from the armchair she was in, shuffled over, and knelt in front of the couch. She had bottle green eyes, lots of freckles, and looked like she was dead on her feet. Knees. Whatever.

"Yeah, I fell asleep doing research last night, and was woken up early when one of my teammates noticed you'd Changed back into a human form.

"On that note: I'm Lisa, Tattletale in costume. My power allows me to make deductions from extremely little data, which is now I've been able to tell what you're thinking. Bitch is the only one who's seen your face, as she was the one who saw that you'd Changed; she put a domino mask on you before anyone else could see your face. We decided to take you back to our abode with us after you fell asleep."

That explained some things. Kirby must have run into them last night. Had they finally managed to find friends? I hoped so. I wasn't sure why they hadn't told me when we were talking at the festival though.

I tried to remember if I'd heard about Tattletale or Bitch, and what team they were on. They weren't New Wave or Wards, and their names didn't sound heroic anyway. And as far as I knew, Parian was the only rogue in Brockton Bay, which meant that Tattletale and Bitch were villains. I didn't recognize the names well, so they must not have been from a minor villain team I hadn't researched well.

Kirby had befriended villains? That wasn't great, but it wasn't really my choice either. I trusted Kirby's judgment that they were at least safe to be around, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to be friends with villains myself.

"I guess you met Kirby then," I said after a pause. "I only have the vaguest sense of their memories though, so I don't actually know how they met you, why they fell asleep, or anything else that happened when they went out last night." I should probably have been panicking more, but I was too overwhelmed by new information.

"Oh, you're plural?" Lisa asked, hesitating briefly before continuing. "Anyway, here's a quick rundown of what happened last night—at least everything that I know. We heard that Lung was going to attack us, and decided to attack him head-on rather than waiting. By the time we reached Lung though, Kirby had already knocked him and his minions out. We thanked Kirby for helping us—saving us, really—and introduced ourselves. Bitch and Kirby seemed to like each other immediately, and she offered Kirby a hug. And as soon as they were in her arms, they were out like a light."

That was… a lot to digest. Kirby beat up Lung last night? And it definitely sounded like they had made a friend, if they felt safe enough to fall asleep that quickly. What had Lisa called her though?

"What do you mean I'm 'plural'?" I asked.

Lisa's mouth formed a small 'o' briefly, before she replied. "Okay, that's going to need a longer answer. Is there anything I can get you first? One of my teammates should hopefully be here with breakfast within an hour or two. Do you want coffee? Tea. I don't think we have much variety, but I'll see what we've got."

Lisa sent off a quick text while she was getting up, and before I could even open my mouth to ask, she said, "Just texting my teammates to tell them that if they come into the living room, they need to either mask up or out themselves to you."

A few minutes later, Lisa returned with a steaming mug. "All we had was English breakfast tea, but I at least knew how sweet you like it," she said with a smirk.

I took the tea with a quiet thanks, and took a small sip. At the same time, I noticed Lisa taking a much larger gulp of coffee from one of what looked like three mugs on the coffee table behind her. "Yup," Lisa chuckled. "I'm really tired, but I didn't want you to wake up alone with no one to tell you where you were or what had happened. Those mugs were all triple-strength too."

After taking another gulp from her mug, Lisa continued. "So, plurality or multiplicity is when there are two or more people in one brain. The group of all those beings in a single brain is called a system or collective, and members of that group are often called alters or headmates."

She gave me a moment to absorb the information before continuing. "I'll give you a rundown of some other terminology later, but the gist of it is, I think you and Kirby are a plural system."

"How common is plurality?" I asked.

"At least 1% of all people are plural due to trauma, though trauma is not a requirement of being plural. I've never personally heard of a system forming from trigger trauma, though it would surprise me if you were the first to form that way. Plurality is a lot more common than people think; plural folks just don't talk about it often because they are frequently treated as 'crazy' by society.

"To be clear though, you're not crazy," she said firmly, looking me in the eye until I nodded in agreement.

"... I guess I can't skip out on terminology for too long," she continued. "One of the core concepts of plurality is fronting. The alter who is in control of the body is said to be 'in front', or to be 'fronting'. If multiple headmates share some level of control at the same time, they are either 'co-conscious', if they still retain their distinct identities, or 'blended' if not. When one headmate takes control from another, that is called 'switching'."

Lisa gave me another moment to digest, which I appreciated. From what she said, it sounded like I switched with Kirby on nights they went out to look for friends, and then switched back at some point during the night when we were both asleep.

"So," Lisa asked, "when you Change into Kirby's form, does that force or trigger a switch? And vice versa? Also, I can guess, but I don't want to take away all your agency by deducing all the answers to my questions; why are you wearing pajamas?"

I looked down at my chest and noticed that indeed, I was wearing pajamas. It made sense, but I had forgotten. "I get ready for bed before Kirby goes out, so that I'll wake up in pajamas after Kirby comes back home and goes to bed," I replied. "As for your other questions… I can Change into Kirby's form without switching, but it's… unpleasant. Wrong. It's not my body, and it doesn't feel like my body, and when I control it, it feels like everything is far away and moving through molasses. And it's hard to motivate myself to move at all in that state, too. Like me being plural, I had assumed it was just a weird power thing. I don't know if Kirby has the same experience Changing to my body or not. I don't know if they usually Change into my body before going to sleep, or if it happens automatically or subconsciously while we're asleep and before I wake up, either."

We both stayed quiet for a bit; I still had a lot to process, and Lisa was looking off into the distance thoughtfully. I wasn't sure if she was trying to guess more things, or figure out what to say to me next, but I was honestly too tired and overwhelmed to care.

A couple minutes later, I heard some clomping on the stairs, and the door to the room opening. I saw Lisa look up behind my head, and I looked up there as well to see a girl quite a bit larger than Lisa, with three dogs around her. I couldn't see her clearly, still lacking my glasses, but somehow I was sure she was a girl despite her thick winter coat, and there was also some vague feeling of happiness I couldn't place or understand the cause of. We were all quiet for at least a minute, before the girl patted my head a couple times, and then walked off down the hall.

I gaped after her receding form, flabbergasted. I turned to Lisa to see her eyes wide from surprise, before she turned back to me and said, "Huh. Didn't see that one coming. She's the one Kirby latched onto last night. Her name is Rachel Lindt, and she goes by Bitch in costume. The PRT calls her Hellhound, but she hates the name, so please don't use it."

That name rang a bell with me. Supposedly Rachel controlled monster dogs, but from what I saw, it seemed more likely to me that she just Changed some honestly rather cute dogs into scarier forms. And she had taken a liking to Kirby. It was… nice… that Kirby seemed to have finally found a friend. A friend that wasn't me, at least… I…

I closed my eyes and turned away from Lisa, trying to hold back my tears. "I just wish my power could be having Kirby with me in real life as a friend, instead of only being able to spend time with them in dreams. And at least they seem to have befriended R-Rachel. Once she finds out I'm not Kirby and am nothing like Kirby, she won't pay attention to me either." I tried not to let hopelessness fill my voice, but I knew it was a failed endeavor. "I've got no one," I finished off pathetically, hoping I'd whispered it quietly enough that Lisa hadn't heard me.

We were both quiet for a long minute, before Lisa gently took my right hand in both of hers, drawing circles on the back of it with one of her thumbs. "Will you be friends with me?" she asked softly, looking into my eyes earnestly.

I stared back at her in shock. Why would anyone want to be friends with me? "Why?" I managed to croak out at her, tears filling my eyes again.

"You seem like you need a friend," she said, with an air of finality that I struggled to question. And before I could figure out what to say, she added, "Trust the Thinker," a smirk and a quick wink gracing her features.

"But you don't even know my name!" I objected, struggling not to shout.

"That's okay," she said, smiling softly. "You can tell me your name if and when you feel comfortable doing so."

After several long minutes of silence, I managed to give her a small "okay," to which she gave my hand a gentle squeeze in return.

Nothing felt real. Suddenly everything felt so far away. I could swear Lisa's face was shrinking into the distance. Was this a dream? Was I so pathetic that I had to dream up friends?

Before I could spiral further, I felt Lisa shaking my shoulder firmly. "Hey, sweetie? Focus. Focus on my voice." I turned my head slightly more towards her, and she continued. "Deep breaths. Take a nice, deep breath in for four seconds… hold it for two seconds… and breathe out for six seconds… Again. Deep breath in for four… hold it for two… and out for six…"

We did that a few more times, until I was mostly calmed down and relaxed. The breathing helped a lot, especially her breathing with me and handling the counting for me, so I could just follow along. "Thanks," I said quietly. She gave my hand another squeeze in reply.

"Those are the times that work for me, but feel free to use any breathing times that fit you better," said Lisa.

"... Anyway, back on the topic of plurality," she continued, "does your family know about Kirby or your amnesia?"

I slowly shook my head, before my eyes widened in horror. "Shit!" I exclaimed. "Dad must be freaking out that I'm missing!"

Before I could panic again, Lisa squeezed my hand and started drawing circles on its back with her thumb again, while softly saying, "Shhh… it'll be okay. I'm a Thinker; we'll figure this out together. I'll help you.

"I know I said I wouldn't ask your name, but I probably do need it for this. I'm sorry. I promise I won't tell my teammates unless you explicitly tell me to. And my full name is Lisa Wilbourn."

"Taylor," I bit out, almost too quiet to hear. "Taylor Hebert."

"Okay, Taylor, there are a few things you need to decide," she said gently, "but first I'm going to call your dad to let him know you're safe. You can talk to him briefly, but I'll impress upon him how important it is to explain in person. And I'll give us a good chunk of extra time to figure out how much we're going to tell him, and what to do about clothes for you. I can drive, so we won't need to worry about buses."

Lisa picked up her phone again, gave me a brief, discerning look, and then tapped a number in, a vulpine grin on her face. "Thinker powers," she said smugly, before putting the phone to her ear and a finger to her lips to stop my forthcoming complaint.

"Mr. Hebert?" she said. "My name is Lisa, I'm a friend of Taylor's—"

"Taylor? Is she okay? Do you know where she is?" I could hear Dad's panicked voice through the phone even without having it on speaker.

"Yes, she's fine, she's right here next to me. I'm handing her the phone now," she said, putting action to words.

"Hi Dad," I said quietly.

"Taylor!" he nearly shouted, and I winced at the volume. "Where are you? What happened? Why aren't you at home?" he asked urgently.

"I- something happened, and- I, um…" I trailed off, flailing for words.

Lisa came to my rescue, gently taking the phone back from my hand. "She's a bit overwhelmed at the moment, Mr. Hebert. And the situation is complicated and sensitive, and should be talked about face to face. I'll have her back home in about an hour, an hour and fifteen minutes at most, and she can explain things to you in person."

Lisa continued reassuring Dad for a short bit, which I started tuning out. I didn't know how I'd even start to explain anything to him, and he'd go ballistic at the number of times Kirby had snuck out of the house.

I saw Lisa snap her phone shut, and slowly focused back on the world. Waiting until she had my full attention, Lisa said, "I know I just told your dad that you'd explain things to him, but I only said that because it would make him accept things more quickly. I'll be right beside you, and I'll do most of the explaining. You just have to decide what we're telling him."

She paused for a moment, taking my hand and once more rubbing comforting circles on its back. She offered me my tea with her other hand, and I took a few grateful sips before handing it back to her. When had I put the mug down anyway?

That feeling of unreality—like this was some sort of dream—hit me again. Everything was just too strange. Here I was, in the theoretically secret lair of a group of small time supervillains, and… and one of them was being so nice to me. She was acting like she actually cared. An actual villain telling me they wanted to be my friend and offering to do all this stuff to try and make sure I'm okay. This couldn't be real, could it?

Before my mind had the chance to wander too far, Lisa continued. "I really think you should tell your dad that you're plural, and that you experience amnesia. I'm happy to help explain things to him. It's healthy for the person you're living with to know both of those things, and it will also enable you to adopt behaviors that can help you and Kirby mitigate the effects of your amnesia. For example, you and Kirby can keep a journal of basic events and important details of your day, and also leave notes for each other. Additionally, it will be very difficult to explain why you've been missing without telling him any of that."

She waited for me to respond, while I struggled not to panic. If I did that, would I have to explain Kirby to him? Would I have to tell him about having powers? What Kirby usually looks like, since they prefer our Changer form? What it means to be agender?

"How… how much would I have to tell him about Kirby if I did that?" I asked worriedly.

"A name would be helpful, but even that isn't technically required," Lisa replied. "Whether or not to tell him about your powers is the second question, but even if we don't, we can still say that your headmate, who has never fronted when your dad is around, went out in the middle of the night. And we'll figure out something for clothes so your dad doesn't wonder why you're in pajamas. We can tell him that Kirby has never fronted while you're around as far as you're aware, and that they didn't realize not to go out at night. Not the most convincing, but we could make it work, and it would allow you to leave notes up for Kirby asking them to stay in at night."

She interrupted herself briefly, asking, "Hold on, you said you spend time with Kirby in your dreams. Can you communicate clearly with them there? Or do they just respond to everything with 'Poyo'?"

I giggled, realizing what Lisa must have experienced last night. "They still only say 'Poyo'," I said, "but somehow, I'm able to understand exactly what they mean."

Lisa shook her head, smiling. "That's good. It will let you leave notes up for Kirby, and hopefully talk through things with them and reach an agreement on how to do things within the next few days.

"Now, the hard question: do you want to tell your dad about your powers? Obviously, you can't really let him see your Changer form without telling him, which means he can only meet Kirby if Kirby is okay being in your regular form. Which may or may not cause your dad to doubt Kirby's existence, and create its own set of problems.

"On the much less significant side of things, if you tell your dad about your powers, there won't be any problem with you staying in your pajamas to go home."

I giggled softly, grateful to Lisa for injecting some levity into the otherwise quite serious situation, before quieting and trying to make a choice. This pivotal decision would fully shape my immediate future, and I only had one chance to make it. The blonde girl seemed to be fairly on top of things, and everything she was saying and suggesting made sense on the surface. But why was she doing this? How could she possibly benefit from putting in so much care and effort on my behalf? It's not like I was anyone special.

I had one thing I wanted to ask Lisa about, but before I could, she interjected softly. "Can I give you a small piece of advice Taylor?" I gave her a small nod, and she continued. "I don't have a relationship with my parents. I ran away after they used me for my powers to make money. If your dad isn't exploiting or hurting you, and you want to have a good relationship with him, don't keep secrets this big from him. You'll have to lie over and over again, and it will tear your relationship apart."

"But…" I said, fear creeping into my voice. "But if I tell Dad about my powers, he's gonna want me to join the Wards. And I get enough teenage hell at school; I don't need more as a hero."

"I think I can help with that problem as well," said Lisa. "Firstly, you and Kirby are the most powerful cape in the world by a wide margin, so they're perfectly safe going out on their own. I have no doubt that they could no-sell an Endbringer in under five minutes. Secondly, it's not very well known, but Shadow Stalker goes out on a lot of unsanctioned patrols and still uses lethal ammunition on them. A month or two ago, she shot Grue in the stomach with a broadhead crossbow bolt while on such a patrol, and he would have died without prompt medical attention. With the combination of those two things, I think I can convince your dad both that you're safe staying solo, and that the Wards are not a healthy environment for you with such poor supervision. I can't guarantee anything, but I promise I will do my best. And if worse comes to worst, I can give you a place to stay. Either here, if you and the rest of the team are comfortable outing yourselves to each other, or at my apartment that I basically never use, since I live here. No obligations regardless."

"Why would you give me a place to stay? Why should I trust you? You're a villain, and I haven't even known you for an hour," I said, suspicion leaking into my voice and my eyes narrowing. "How do I know you're not trying to manipulate or take advantage of me?"

Lisa deflated a bit, looking sad. "To be honest, it's difficult for me to prove that. If you want to ascribe selfish motives to me, being friends with the strongest cape in the world can only be beneficial. On that note, trying to take advantage of you would be an outrageously ill-conceived idea—whatever I hoped to gain could not possibly be worth the risk of pissing you off. I do have a personal problem that your power could help with, but it's my problem, not yours. I will not ask for your or Kirby's help in solving it, or even tell you what it is, lest that manipulate you into trying to fix it of your own initiative.

"The best answer I can think of is that if I didn't want to help you, I wouldn't have explained plurality to you. I could have made up another explanation that suited me better, and that wouldn't be verifiable by you. I strongly recommend you research plurality either online or at the library to confirm what I've told you, and to learn more about it regardless.

"Fundamentally, it's hard to trust me; I'm a Thinker, and my specialty is manipulating people. I can't avoid that. All I can say is that if my goal is to trick or hurt you, it's a terrible idea, and you're absolutely able to protect yourself in such a situation."

We were silent for a solid fifteen minutes while I thought things over. "Okay," I finally squeaked out, "I'll trust you for now, since Kirby decided they could. And I'll tell my dad everything."

"I will do my best to live up to that trust," said Lisa, leaning over me and giving me a quick, firm hug before handing me back my tea. "You finish this up, and I'll go get you something for your feet." She gave my hand another squeeze and walked off down the hall. Despite having cooled down, the tea gave me some small comfort, and I was grateful for it. I steeled myself for what was to come. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I hoped Lisa was correct that I had made the right choice.



Author's notes:

Huge thanks once again to @EnygmaSoul and @Glen, my lovely beta readers.

We finally see Taylor's perspective. She is the main character, so it's a bit odd it took this long, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

For more information about plurality, please visit morethanone.info.



Updates/Edits:
  • 2022-08-13: Changed wording, particularly in Lisa's dialogue, to remove conflation of Kirby and Changer form.
  • 2022-08-13: Removed Lisa's informal diagnosis of DID. It has made some readers uncomfortable, and is also not the most appropriate thing for Lisa to do without Taylor asking her to. I do hope it's still clear from my characterisation that Taylor dissociates a lot though.
 
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Loneliness 1.3
I stretched slowly and pushed the blanket off of myself, before sitting up just in time for Lisa to return with a pair of adorable pink bunny slippers. I raised an eyebrow at her, to which she smiled and replied simply, "They're cute, comfy, and most importantly, warm. What's not to like?"

Unable to think of a witty rebuttal, I shrugged and took the slippers from her. Putting them on my feet, I wiggled my toes experimentally and almost gasped in surprise. Wow, they were soft. They couldn't be made of tinkertech fabric, could they? I wiggled my toes a few more times, delighting in how nice the slippers felt.

I heard footsteps coming towards the living room, and saw Lisa returning wearing a jacket and shoes. When had she even had time to change? Had I been distracted by the slippers for that long? Lisa giggled at me, and said, "Told ya," teasingly. "Keep them; I haven't worn them, and I can see how much you love 'em. I bought them to replace my almost-worn-out current pair, so I'll just buy a new pair." Before I could do more than open my mouth to object to her generosity, she steamrolled over me, saying, "Take the blanket with you—it's chilly outside, and you're not dressed for cold weather. I can take the blanket back whenever."

I nodded, wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, and got up from the couch. I followed Lisa down a spiral staircase into a large, disused, open space. Perhaps a warehouse? I really wished I had my glasses. "Used to be a welding shop," Lisa said. "It's just dust and cobwebs at this point, not much to see, but if the others are okay with it, I'll be happy to show you around down here and upstairs any time." I nodded absently as she led me outside to an old-looking car, hugging the blanket more tightly around myself to protect myself from the biting wind. She opened the passenger door for me, and I sat down in a surprisingly plush seat, carefully adjusting the blanket to be able to buckle my seatbelt and still stay warm. "It was an old car that I got fixed up to be fast and comfortable while still looking lousy, to keep it from being stolen."

Lisa started the car and drove off, carefully peeling the domino mask off my face and stowing it in one of her pockets as she did so. I'd completely forgotten I was even wearing the mask, so I was glad Lisa had remembered to remove it; it would be awkward to show up at home wearing it, even if I had resolved to tell Dad everything. I leaned my forehead on the window next to me and gazed absently out of it, watching cars and buildings flash past me at varying speeds. It was comforting, in a way. I could just exist in the car and let the world go by outside, without having to worry about interacting with it or dealing with other people.



I felt Lisa squeeze my hand gently as she said, "We're here Taylor."

I shook my head to clear the fog that had taken over my mind and turned to find us parked in front of my house. Had I even told Lisa my address, or had she used her power to find it? "I asked you shortly after we left the loft. You were pretty out of it, so I'm not surprised you don't remember," she said, answering my unasked question. Oh. I'd been spacing out a lot and getting distracted pretty easily, hadn't I? That couldn't be good. Had it always been this difficult to concentrate? Just how broken was I? I was falling apart at the—

Lisa squeezed my hand more firmly, jolting me out of my thoughts. "It's normal, Taylor. It's one of the ways your brain copes with stress, and there's nothing to feel bad about. Honestly, given how much stress you've been dealing with, you're doing great," she said with a small smile. "It can be inconvenient, sure, but it's not bad. Perhaps in the future I can teach you some grounding techniques to help stay in the moment, but don't worry about that for now."

She got out of the car, walked around it, and helped me out of my seat while I kept a tight hold of the blanket. She kept holding my hand as she walked with me up to my front door, once again rubbing comforting circles on the back of my hand, and hopped over the rotten step without being prompted. I raised my hand hesitantly to knock, but couldn't quite bring myself to actually do so. "It'll be okay. I'm right here. We'll do this together, and I'll be right with you the whole way," Lisa said softly, giving my hand one more squeeze. "Do you want me to knock? I know it's hard."

I swallowed hard and nodded, lowering my hand. Lisa knocked loudly, and barely had time to withdraw her hand before Dad wrenched the door open, looking haggard. "Hi Mr. Hebert," I heard her say. "Safe and sound, as promised. Can I come in?" Dad nodded in assent, and Lisa stepped past him, leading me towards the couch. Why was I following her around in my own house, and why was I gripping her hand so tightly? I was probably hurting her, though she hadn't even grimaced. I did my best to loosen my grip as Lisa sat us down, while Dad sat in his favorite armchair.

Lisa gave my hand another comforting squeeze; she was doing that a lot, and I really appreciated it. She began to address Dad, saying, "Mr. Hebert—"

"Please, call me Danny," he interrupted.

"Okay Danny," Lisa restarted. "Do you know what a trigger event is?"

Dad shook his head, frowning a little. "I don't, but it doesn't sound particularly pleasant—it reminds me of the terminology used for PTSD." It made sense that he was familiar with PTSD. Quite a few of the union members had toured in the military, and not all of the scars they'd returned with were physical.

Lisa nodded. "The terms are related. A trigger event is how someone becomes a parahuman, and is often described as the worst day in a person's life. For some people, when they are at their lowest, they break and gain powers. It's… not pleasant, so even capes rarely talk about it with each other."

"Are you-" Dad stuttered, eyes wide, "Are you saying Taylor is a cape?"

"She is, but there's a lot more going on than just that. I assume you're aware of what her trigger event was, but please don't tell me; Taylor doesn't need to relive it, and it's her trauma to share only with those she wishes," Lisa said.

Dad nodded slowly, looking a bit lost. Before he could say anything, Lisa went on, "Before I answer any other questions, I'd like to explain at least the basics of what Taylor is dealing with.

"Sometimes, when a person experiences severe emotional or mental trauma, their brain will create one or more additional sentient beings in their mind, with the purpose of managing the trauma. Someone who shares their mind with others like that is said to be plural, and the other entities in their brain are called either alters or headmates. Sometimes, the goal is that only one alter will hold the trauma, so that when others are in control—or 'fronting'—they don't have to deal with the trauma. Alternatively, a headmate might exist to comfort other headmates, or for some other role. Taylor is plural, and has a headmate named Kirby.

"Last night, Kirby was in control, and went out in their and Taylor's Changer form, which looks very different from how Taylor normally looks. My friends and I ran into Kirby at some point in the night, and after they fell asleep in one of my friends' arms, we took them home with us. At some point in the night, Kirby Changed back into their human form, and Taylor woke up at our place in the morning."

"But… why is Taylor wearing pajamas rather than normal clothes?" Dad asked.

"Um, Kirby has been going out a few nights a week ever since January, Dad," I cut in nervously. "I get ready for bed, which includes changing into my pajamas, so that I won't need to do anything once Kirby gets back home. Then I let Kirby take control, they Change, and they go out for a few hours."

"That's dangerous!" he exclaimed. "You could get hurt!"

"Danny," Lisa said soothingly, "Kirby and Taylor are the most powerful cape in the world, bar none. I have no doubt in my mind that they could beat Scion with ease, and would willingly bet my life on that. They are in absolutely no danger on their own."

"How do you know that?" Dad argued. "How could you possibly make a claim like that?!"

She sighed quietly before muttering, "It's for Taylor…" At a normal volume, she continued, "I'm also a cape, Danny. I'm telling you this despite the fact that I don't know you, and against my better judgment. Please don't use this information to out me or harm me. I can't tell you the details of my own situation, but suffice to say it's precarious enough that even saying this much could put me at serious risk.

"I'm a Thinker who's good at gathering information, and my power told me that Kirby—and I quote—"kills cosmic horrors." You don't need to be worried about either Kirby or Taylor getting hurt. I doubt even an Endbringer could scratch them."

We were all quiet for a bit as Dad processed things. I could tell he still wasn't happy and probably didn't believe Lisa, and I was waiting anxiously for what came next. Demands for me to join the Wards, questions about who Lisa was, figuring out she was a villain, finding out that I'd only known her for perhaps two hours at most.

Lisa started drawing little circles on the back of my hand with her thumb again, continuing to try to comfort me. I couldn't help but feel that she was wrong, Dad was going to take this poorly, and I'd have to either run away or be stuck in hell with the Wards. And that wasn't even taking school into account. I didn't want to lose Dad, but I also didn't—

Dad started towards me at my obvious growing distress, but before he could really do anything Lisa spoke up once more. "Taylor, breathe," Lisa said gently, briefly interrupting her circles on my hand with a squeeze. "In for four… hold it for two… out for six…" She guided me through the breathing exercises again for a couple minutes, until I stopped panicking and shaking. I had been shaking? Ugh. I saw a flicker of something pass over Dad's face, but I couldn't quite make out what it was.

"There are a couple more things I should mention before explaining things in greater depth," said Lisa, addressing Dad again. "The first is that Taylor and Kirby don't share memories; at best they might occasionally get small amounts of emotional bleedthrough. To put it differently, both of them experience amnesia. You need to be patient with them and understand that reminding them of things you told their respective headmates is normal and going to be necessary. They have an inner world of sorts in which they can communicate with each other, but they can't enter it at will.

"The other thing is that it's not safe for Taylor to go back to school. She needs to get away from traumatic environments to even begin to heal; if she goes back there, she's only going to suffer more and get worse. There's also significant danger of her switching with Kirby who would have no idea what was going on. It's also not really safe for Kirby to attend school in general because they are basically nonverbal, not to mention any problems that arise if they are only comfortable in their Changer form."

"What do you mean switching with Kirby?" Dad asked.

"Changing who's fronting, who's in control. What causes it varies greatly between plural folks, so I can't really say what causes it for Taylor and Kirby," Lisa replied.

"I don't really know either," I said. "I know Kirby and I agreed that they would go out at night, but I don't know what causes them to switch with me, and why only some nights and not others.

"I still don't like it," said Dad. "It's too dangerous being out on your own as a cape, especially here in Brockton Bay. You should join the Wards, you'll be much safer there."

"Please no, Dad, it'll just be more of what I deal with at school." The conversation was going exactly where I had feared it would, and I didn't know what to do.

"Then no more going out as a cape," he said with an air of finality.

As Lisa was starting to reply, I actually managed to gather the willpower to speak up. "That doesn't bother me, but that's not fair to Kirby. They need to get out and wander; they don't like being cooped up, otherwise they get depressed. They also need to spend time with friends, and may want to make more friends as well." After a brief pause, I continued in a slightly more desperate, pleading tone. "Look, Dad, I… Kirby and I both need this. Please?"

"... We'll talk about it later," Dad said, standing up. "I'm late for work, and need to leave. I'll call Winslow and tell them you're out sick today, and you can stay home and rest." I saw Lisa try to say something, but a look from Dad silenced her.

A pit formed in my stomach as the little hope I had drained away, replaced with a growing certainty that the "talk" was just going to be him reiterating what he'd already said just now. And I wouldn't even have Lisa here with me to help.

Dad walked over to his office to get his briefcase. Lisa quickly pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen, and scribbled a phone number on it. "Call me any time night or day if you need me, or even if you just want to talk to someone. I can't promise I'll always pick up, because sometimes I'm out on a job, but if I'm not, I will pick up. I'm here for you," she said softly, wrapping me in a firm hug.

Dad returned with his briefcase, grabbing and donning his coat from the hook by the door. He opened the door and looked at Lisa, making it clear he expected her to leave. She gave my hand a final squeeze, saying, "I'll talk to you soon Taylor, I promise." She got up and walked out the door, Dad following closely after her and closing it behind them.

I lay back on the couch and felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't see tonight going well.



Author's Notes:

Beta'd by @EnygmaSoul, Mirakysriftqa and TortureandHugs.

This chapter took a bit longer than usual; doing a Danny scene justice is hard.

Fun fact: When I was planning this chapter, there was originally going to be a bit at the end where Taylor dissociates for a while while Lisa and Danny talk, and completely misses what they say, but the chapter just decided to write itself differently.
 
Loneliness 1.4
I felt myself getting hungry, and realized that I'd had to leave before Lisa's teammate arrived with breakfast. I got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, glancing at the clock along the way. I'd have to figure out what to do with my day after eating breakf—

I did a double take and looked back at the clock, stumbling as I confirmed that it was nearly 2:00 PM. How was it the afternoon already?! Hadn't Dad and Lisa left just a few minutes ago? I mentally updated my eating plans from 'breakfast' to 'lunch' as I tried to figure out where the time had gone. Kirby probably hadn't gone out, as I was still in the same place I'd been when Dad had left earlier. I think. I didn't actually know when I had gotten back home, but it couldn't have been later than 8:00 AM. Meaning I had just… missed about six hours of the day.

I absently fixed a sandwich—ham and cheese I think?—while doing the breathing exercise Lisa had taught me, desperately trying to keep the panic at bay. It wasn't working though; I kept subconsciously losing the count and starting to hyperventilate. In desperation, I searched my pockets for the scrap of paper with Lisa's phone number, but found nothing. I rushed to the living room, bumping into the wall along the way and absently noting that I would have a lovely bruise there tomorrow. Or later today. Whenever. I saw the note on the coffee table, grabbed it, and ran back to the phone.

I hurriedly tapped in her number, messing up and having to start over twice. When I finally got it right, I waited anxiously through three rings until I heard Lisa pick up and say in a tired voice, "Hmmm? Whosit?" I tried to answer her, but no words came out, just more of my panicked breathing. I was getting lightheaded. "Taylor? Taylor, I'm here. Breathe for me, sweetie." A much more awake-sounding Lisa walked me through the breathing exercise for the third time (or was it the fourth?), eventually calming me down. No longer hyperventilating, my dizziness slowly faded.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Lisa asked gently. Somehow I could hear the kindness and caring in her voice. Hopefully I wasn't imagining it. Hopefully it wasn't a lie.

"I… You left just a few minutes ago, but now it's the afternoon. And I don't remember falling asleep or waking up. Just… suddenly half the day is gone," I said, my voice trembling a bit in fear.

"It's okay, Taylor," she said. "It seems like you dissociated really badly. It sucks, but you've had a really rough morning. It's understandable.

"... Do you want me to come over for a bit, Taylor? I assume your dad won't be home for several hours."

"Please," I whispered, unsure if I'd even said the word loudly enough to be heard.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Lisa said softly, and I heard some background noise that might have been her standing up. "Have you eaten yet, by the way?"

"I… no. I made a sandwich, but I didn't manage to eat it before I started panicking," I said, shame starting to fill me up.

"Hey, there's nothing to feel bad about, sweetie," said Lisa. "You're overwhelmed; doing things is going to be a struggle, and that's okay. How about you eat the sandwich while I drive over to your house, okay? And don't forget to drink something with it too."

I gave a small nod, before remembering after a few moments that she couldn't see me. "Okay," I squeaked out. "And… thanks, Lisa," I continued, trying to put as much gratitude into my voice as I could.

"Of course, Taylor," she replied. "Now eat up, sweetie. I'll be right over."

The line went dead, and I slowly hung up the phone. I stared at the device, trying to wrap my head around the changes happening in my life. Somehow, Kirby had found friends, and then I had maybe made a friend as well, but with a supervillain, and my life was being turned upside down.



A knock at the front door jolted me out of my reverie, and I shuffled over to open it. I'd barely turned the knob before Lisa had me wrapped in a tight hug, one of her hands rubbing my back.

"I'm sorry I gave you bad advice," she said as she took my hand and led me to the kitchen. "I didn't expect your dad to take things that badly. I should have at least asked you more about him first to form a better strategy, but we can talk about that more after you have some food in you."

She sat me down at the table and moved the sandwich in front of me. "Eat up," she said gently. "I'll make you some tea."

I took a bite of the sandwich and chewed slowly. Everything was changing too quickly, and I needed a break. I needed calm. I needed some stability so I could stop falling apart.

I'd just managed a second bite of my sandwich when Lisa set a steaming mug in front of me and sat down to my left. She began rubbing my back with her right hand, and drawing slow circles on my left hand with her own. I felt tears drip down my face, and I slowly collapsed to lean on her shoulder.



I lay on the couch with my eyes closed and my head in Lisa's lap while she slowly carded her fingers through my hair over and over. I wasn't sure exactly how, but she'd managed to coax me through eating the rest of the sandwich and finishing the tea despite me leaning on her shoulder at a precarious angle for drinking. I was no longer crying, but only because I'd run out of tears.

"Why are you taking care of me?" I whispered. "I'm worthless and—"

"Shhhhh," said Lisa softly, cutting me off. "You're not worthless Taylor. You're a wonderful person who's been beaten down over and over again. Some cunts have torn you apart and said horrible things about you, but what they've said isn't true. You're smart, kind, and you deserve the world. You're not worthless, and I'm immensely happy to be your friend. I'm so sorry they've hurt you and made you believe otherwise."

We were quiet for several minutes, before Lisa spoke up quietly once again. "How do you feel about taking a nap, and I'll wake you up in an hour or two to plan what to say to your dad?"

I gave a small nod, and then whined pitifully when Lisa carefully took my head off her lap and stood up. She giggled and said, "I'm just getting you a blanket, silly. I'll be right back."

I heard a click as the light passing through my eyelids dimmed, and then felt the weight of a blanket upon my body. My head was gently lifted and then laid once more in Lisa's lap, and she began stroking my hair once again.

"Thanks Lisa," I murmured, before slowly dozing off.



Author's Notes:

Thanks once again to my lovely beta readers @EnygmaSoul and @Glen. This chapter is up slightly sooner than expected, as it required surprisingly few edits.

Please be aware that the next few chapters will all deal with suicide, and I may take a bit longer with them to ensure I do things properly. Fun fact: this is the first time I've been actively writing more than one chapter at a time.

Thank you to all you lovely commenters as well.
 
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Loneliness 1.5
Content Warning: graphic depiction of active suicidal ideation, and bullying with encouragement to commit suicide.

Each section to which a content warning applies will be preceded by a 'CW(topics)' marker and a section separator, as stated in the work's summary.

Please ensure you are in a safe headspace before reading, whether that means waiting to read, getting comfort food, reading with a friend, or something else.



I awoke from my slumber to Lisa gently shaking my shoulder and saying, "Wakey wakey Taylor."

I giggled quietly and opened my eyes, turning to look up at her.

"Feeling any better?" she asked.

"I think so," I said, before doing a small stretch.

"... Are you ready to plan for later tonight?" Lisa asked hesitantly.

I bit my lip. I dreaded even talking about it, let alone the prospect of actually facing Dad tonight, but I knew it had to be done. "As ready as I'll ever be," I replied.

Lisa started stroking my hair again. "Okay," she said. "Let's break it into small steps. First let's try to figure out all of your and Kirby's needs. I get the feeling you don't consider this as important as I do, but I think it's critical that you don't go back to school. I don't know what happened there, but I know it was bad, and I'm extremely worried for your safety should you return there. Whether that means transferring, homeschooling, or playing hooky, I don't think it particularly matters."

I frowned, and opened my mouth to protest, before Lisa cut me off. "Please just… think about it? It matters to me immensely."

Looking into her eyes, I saw how earnest she was. And while she could be lying, I couldn't come up with a plausible benefit to her from doing so. What could she possibly gain from me not attending school?

"... Okay," I relented. "Fine."

"Thanks Taylor," she said softly. "I can't express how much that means to me. Hopefully one day I'll be able to.

"So," Lisa continued, "what other needs do you have?"

"No Wards," I said without hesitation. "I can't… I just can't."

She nodded, taking my hand and squeezing it. "Anything else for you?"

"Not… Not that I can think of."

"Okay. Don't hesitate to interject if you think of something, sweetie," she implored. "Now, what about Kirby's needs?"

"I think they have two needs," I replied. "Maybe three, depending how you count them. They need the freedom to explore, and the freedom to make and spend time with friends. I don't know if just spending time with your team will be enough for them."

Lisa thought for a moment. "I don't know either, to be honest. We'd have to ask Kirby. Hopefully you can do so tonight? But that will still be too late for the talk with your Dad."

We were both silent for several minutes, pondering the situation. It certainly wasn't a simple or straightforward one. Eventually, Lisa spoke up again.

"You should probably also get therapy. I know it's hard to open up to a shrink, but… I think it will help."

"We can't afford it," I said. "Dad's income is already stretched thin."

Lisa opened her mouth as if to reply, but closed it and pursed her lips without saying anything. "Fine," she sighed. I wanted to ask what she had stopped herself from saying, but she drove the question out of my mind before I was able to.

"There's also the question of whether or not you want me to stick around for the conversation—or to be honest, negotiation—with your dad. He wasn't thrilled about me being here this morning, and probably suspected that I'm a villain. And it wouldn't be hard to rule out me being a hero or a rogue in this city."

"Please," I replied immediately. "I know he might not like it, but I don't think I can do this alone."

"Then I'll be right here with you," she said warmly.

"Thanks Lisa," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.

She gave my hand another squeeze.



I'd managed to shift myself from lying in Lisa's lap to leaning on her shoulder by the time Dad got home. We'd discussed a few possible compromises, but she wasn't thrilled with any of them, and also wasn't sure if Dad would have thought more and changed some of his demands.

… I hated that they were demands.

Dad opened the front door, and saw me sitting on the couch with Lisa immediately. And his eyes narrowed.

Fuck.

I sat up straight, and Lisa started rubbing circles on the back of my hand again. I gave her a brief, grateful smile, before turning back to Dad.

"Hi Dad," I said meekly.

Dad took off his coat and left his things by the door. "Why is Lisa here again?" he asked. "Are you aware that she's a villain? It's not a good idea to hang out with villains, Taylor, and I don't like having one in our house."

I winced, but Lisa jumped in to try to defuse things. "I am a villain, Danny, but I'm just a thief. Mostly corporate espionage, sometimes stealing from the gangs as well. No violent crime. And I'm not recruiting Taylor either. She doesn't want to be a villain, nor do I want her to be one."

"That doesn't make you a good influence to be around," said Dad.

"I will not involve her in any crime of my own volition," said Lisa. "I just want to be her friend."

Dad still didn't look happy, but he at least sat down in his customary armchair and let the topic rest for now. A win of sorts, I hoped.

"Firstly," he said, "you need to go back to school. We can try to apply for a transfer, but we can't afford homeschooling, and you'll be truant otherwise."

Lisa interjected immediately. "It's not safe, Danny. Please. It's going to destroy Taylor mentally and emotionally."

Seeming to fully ignore her, Dad continued. "Secondly, no more going out as a cape, especially not at night. It's just not safe. If you want to do cape things, you have to join the Wards, where it will be safe."

"But Kirby needs to spend time with friends, Dad. They need to be able to go out. And they're not doing cape things, even if they're in our Changer form."

"It's not safe Taylor. I can't lose you too."
I bit my lip, and started to panic. "What about… What if Kirby doesn't wander around, and only goes out to visit friends they've already met? If they go directly there and back, they'll be safe."

Dad was silent for a moment, his brows furrowed. "Maybe," he said eventually. "Going out at night is still dangerous. But maybe they can go out and come back before it gets dark. Or I can drive to pick them up after it's dark. I'll think about it.

"But you have to go back to school. I'm sorry. I'll call Arcadia today to discuss a transfer."

"Okay," I said immediately.

"Taylor, no!" said Lisa, nearly screaming. There was panic in her eyes. "It's not- it's not safe! You can't!"

"I'm sorry kiddo," said Dad, "but you have to go back to school until we can get you transferred. Otherwise you'll be declared truant, and I might lose you."

"Fine," I said. I had to, for Kirby.

"Taylor, please," said Lisa. I turned to her and saw tears in her eyes.

"I have to, Lisa. And I'll survive—I have until now."

She shook her head and clutched my hand with both of her own. "It's not- you won't- please don't go, Taylor."

"And I think it's time for Lisa to leave and for us to eat dinner," said Dad firmly. Once again, clearly a demand and not a request.

Lisa gave me one last pleading look, before running out the door. I thought I heard her crying, though I wasn't really sure why. I'd survive. I had for months. And what was I supposed to do, anyway? Kirby needed their friends.



That night was otherwise uneventful, and I was back at Winslow the next morning. I'd left a note taped to the inside of my door asking Kirby not to go out, but I hadn't dreamed of us in Dreamland, so I didn't know if Kirby even fronted at all. Thoughts of Kirby were soon driven out of my mind, however, when the Trio cornered me as soon as I got inside.

"Look who managed to find her way to school today. Did you get lost yesterday with how absentminded you are?"

"Why do you even bother to show up? It's not like you know how to pay attention anyway."

Someone shoved me against the lockers, and I suppressed a grunt. It was probably Sophia. "Just ignore them," I repeated in my head, over and over. "If I don't react, they'll leave me alone eventually."



CW(suicidal ideation, graphic, bullying)



In the hall after Gladly's class, they cornered me again, this time with a posse of hangers on.

"I'm surprised she isn't constantly bumping into walls with how spaced out she is."

I was shoved again, this time into the cinderblock wall instead of the lockers. I hissed in pain.

"What are you talking about, she bumped into the wall just now. Careful you don't space out like her."

"Why hasn't she offed herself already? She walks around aimlessly, and she has no idea what's going on. Her mom already killed herself to be free from her, why doesn't she at least save her dad the trouble?"

That last one was Emma. Probably. I was struggling to focus, to be honest. I just needed to get through the rest of the school day.

Once I finished the school day, I could go home and be done with the torture forever. Maybe I could drown myself in the bathtub? No, too easy to chicken out before I'd actually run out of oxygen.

Hanging myself didn't seem like it was on the table either. Or off of it, haha. I didn't think we had any rope, and I wasn't sure that light fixtures were actually as strong as depicted on TV anyway.

Maybe I could use a knife from the kitchen? We had a whole bunch—steak knives, paring knives, a bread knife—how about a chef's knife? That was a nice idea. Nice and big.

How would I do it though? Slitting your wrists was a traditional way to do it, but I wasn't actually quite sure where or how to cut. I thought I'd read somewhere that you needed to cut parallel to your arm, because tendons would stop the cut from going deep enough if you cut perpendicularly. But if you cut parallel, where did you have to cut to hit a vein? I wasn't sure.

I decided my neck was the best prospect. I could cut one of the big veins or arteries there. I'd bleed out quickly, no chance of failure, no way to back out after I'd started.

I shouldn't have been thinking about killing myself.

… But I just wanted the misery to end.

Once I got home, I could just go into the kitchen, grab the chef's knife, and stab my neck nice and deep where the big blood vessels were.



Author's Notes:

Oh look, Lisa was right—going to school was a terrible idea.

Huge thanks to the lovely @Glen for beta-ing this chapter.

The next couple chapters will also be pretty rough, but after that Taylor should hopefully start getting more of the promised comfort.
 
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Interlude 1.c: Lisa
Content Warning: mention of past suicide, graphic depiction of attempted suicide.

Each section to which a content warning applies will be preceded by a 'CW(topics)' marker and a section separator, as stated in the work's summary.

Please ensure you are in a safe headspace before reading, whether that means waiting to read, getting comfort food, reading with a friend, or something else.



Thinking about anything other than the road when driving on just a few hours of sleep wasn't a great idea, but Lisa couldn't stop herself. What she'd seen of Taylor and Kirby just didn't match up with what her power had told her, and she was baffled.

Her power had said that they killed cosmic horrors, which seemed to indicate that they had traveled through space in the past. And yet, Taylor seemed like a normal teenage girl from Earth Bet, though quite a depressed one at that. Certainly Taylor hadn't left earth to fly to other stars or universes, and it didn't seem like Kirby had in just a few hours at night either.

And the only thing on Bet that might count as cosmic horrors were the Endbringers, but they didn't seem nearly destructive enough to qualify, and none had ever been killed either.

Lisa's power certainly wasn't perfect, and occasionally made mistakes, but it felt odd to her that the one time it gave her a conclusion that wasn't based on any information she had encountered, that conclusion was wrong. She felt like she was missing information, and she'd have to remember to ask Taylor if she knew what was going on.

As she parked near the loft after driving Taylor back home, Lisa thought about the thing she'd learned that worried her even more. Taylor was a normal girl, powers excluded, but it had been immediately obvious once she had woken up that she was depressed. And every part of Taylor's behavior she'd seen following that had only shown how dangerously depressed Taylor was.

Not for the first time that morning, Lisa shoved down the images of Rex that popped into her mind, as she trudged up the stairs into the loft. She focused on not bumping into anything as she shuffled to her room, got back into her pajamas, and passed out in her bed in mere moments.



Lisa smiled as she sat on the Heberts' couch with Taylor's head in her lap. The raven-haired girl seemed at the very least not sad as she slept with her head in Lisa's lap. It was a big change, and one Lisa was happy to have helped with. Just an hour ago, Taylor had been panicking and falling apart at the seams, and now she seemed mostly at peace, if only temporarily.

Lisa continued to stroke Taylor's hair, and thought about what the sleeping girl had said about the Wards. If the thought of it being somewhat similar to school was such a concern, then school for Taylor must be awful. And with Taylor considering herself worthless and unlovable, Lisa didn't need her power to know that Taylor had been bullied horribly.

She hoped she could help build the sweet, caring girl back up into a confident version of herself.



CW(suicide attempt, graphic)



Lisa was worried. She'd begged Taylor not to go to school. She'd pleaded. But Taylor had insisted on going, because she cared more about Kirby's needs than her own. Taylor thought that if she went to school, Danny would allow Kirby to spend time with friends. And now Lisa had a gnawing pit in her stomach telling her that something terrible was going to happen.

She didn't manage to get anything done after leaving the Heberts' house that night. Images of her brother lying on the floor kept popping into her mind, and shoving them down forcefully didn't help. She locked herself in her room at the loft shortly after returning there, repeating "she's not Rex" and "she'll be okay" to herself over and over. The mantras didn't help, but she eventually managed to cry herself to sleep.

Lisa was no longer crying when she woke up late the next morning, but she was still scared for Taylor. She had to do something to help Taylor, so she figured out approximately when Taylor would get home from Winslow, and prepared accordingly. She went shopping and bought several extremely expensive tins of high-quality loose-leaf tea. She picked out a wide selection of pastries from her favorite shop on the Boardwalk. She even grabbed a few recent Aleph import movies in case Taylor wanted to relax and watch a movie either together with her or alone. And she timed her preparations so that she would reach Taylor's house slightly before Taylor would return from school.

Lisa only needed to wait a couple minutes before she saw Taylor trudging up to her house. As Taylor entered her house and closed the door, Lisa grabbed the bag with her treats from the car and hastily followed Taylor's footsteps. Lisa knocked on the door, and waited.

After a tense minute with no answer, Lisa knocked again—this time harder and for longer. She paced tiny circles in front of the door, her worry quickly turning to dread and panic. She didn't need her power to know that it was taking Taylor too long to answer the door. Lisa squeezed her eyes shut and shoved away the images pushing their way into her mind.

Still getting no answer after another minute, she pounded on the door as hard as she could. She didn't care if the neighbors heard and thought she was suspicious. She needed to know that Taylor was okay. Lisa was scared that the rebound of going back to misery from having a marginally happy day with a friend the day before had destroyed Taylor. If Taylor would just open the door, she could try to cheer the poor girl up.

With no response after a further couple of minutes, Lisa was hyperventilating, and she opened herself fully to her power.

Not overly security-conscious. Spare key likely hidden in rear of house.

Lisa sprinted around the back of the house, the bag bouncing in her hand, and scanned the ground for possible hiding spots.

Spare key hidden under rock.

She grabbed the key and fumbled it in her haste, taking three tries to get it properly into the lock. Finally unlocking the door, she pushed the door open, resolving to replace the key once she knew Taylor was safe.

Lisa burst into the kitchen to see her worst nightmare. Taylor was standing in front of the sink with a chef's knife in her hand, stabbing the blade into her neck. There was no way Taylor could survive an injury like that—she'd exsanguinate in under a minute.

"Taylor no!!" shrieked Lisa, dropping her bag and diving at Taylor in the vain hope that she'd somehow stop Taylor from cutting her jugular vein or carotid artery. But she was too late.



CW(suicide attempt)



Lisa woke up on the floor to a small pink hand—arm?—gently prodding her cheek, with an occasional 'Poyo?' thrown in. Why was she asleep or on the floor?

Host lost consciousness due to Shard connection reconfiguration, known to Host as a 'second trigger'. Reconfiguration modulated by nearby Maximum Priority Recovery Hub, which has assumed direct administrative control of <Inference Engine>. Reconfiguration increased Host utilization limit, changed harmful overutilization penalty to harmless gradual backoff, and added toggle for disabling communication from <Inference Engine>. Recovery Hub removed data restrictions and conflict drive during reconfiguration.

Lisa blinked several times before deciding to deal with that heap of information later. There were definitely multiple important nuggets her power had dropped there, but figuring out what had happened to Taylor was her first priority.

Attempt to harm Host's non-Changer form triggered automatic Change to protect Host. Alter Kirby switched with alter Taylor due to strong protective emotional response.

Lisa let out a sigh of relief. At least Taylor was alive and physically unharmed, even if she was clearly in poor shape emotionally. At the noise, Kirby stopped poking her and leaned closer.

"Hi Kirby," Lisa grunted quietly, grabbing her aching head with both hands.

"Poyo?" asked Kirby, a worried look on their face.

Before Lisa could even begin to try to interpret or answer Kirby's question, Kirby ran down the stairs to the Heberts' basement, and returned just a few moments later wearing a beret and holding a paint-covered paintbrush. Still hopelessly lost, Lisa watched Kirby summon an easel from thin air and paint a pink refrigerator with Kirby eyes on it. The refrigerator then opened while still being painted on the paper and popped out a whole roast chicken into the real world, before vanishing along with the easel it was on. The chicken was somehow floating slightly above the floor, bobbing about three or four inches up and down, and slowly rotating.

Lisa's mind blanked and she begged her power to fill her in.

No data found. Request data from <Kirby>?

Never having had her power prompt her for an answer before, Lisa tentatively thought the word 'yes' before immediately receiving an explanation.

Kirby used the Still Life technique of the Artist ability to create food.

Lisa wasn't sure if her power had actually elucidated things or only confused her more, but before she could ask her power more questions, Kirby gestured repeatedly at the roast chicken.

She hesitantly reached towards the chicken, and at a nod from Kirby, tried to grab it. However, instead of being able to pick the chicken up, it vanished with a weird 'vwoop' noise as soon as she touched it, and she immediately felt better. Her headache from hitting her head on the floor was gone, and she no longer felt like she had any other bruises or aches either. Lisa gaped briefly, before giving up on any hope of understanding and turning back to Kirby.

"Kirby, do you know what happened to Taylor?" she asked tentatively. When Kirby shook their head—body?—Lisa's power decided to chime in.

Because Taylor was the one who attempted to kill the body, but the body was undamaged, Kirby is unaware of what happened other than a vague idea of danger to Taylor. Because when Taylor next fronts, she will be uninjured, Taylor will think that her suicide attempt was merely ideation. Taylor has attempted and failed to kill herself several times, and is unaware.

Lisa paled, and tears began to stream quietly down her face. "Kirby, c-can I hug you?" she asked.

Kirby hopped into her lap as she sobbed on the floor, holding her just as tightly as she held them.



Author's Notes:

Hugs all around. Things will get better.

Huge thanks to the lovely @EnygmaSoul and @Glen for beta-ing this chapter.

The next chapter will be the final one of this group with a significant focus on suicide. It will be Taylor's perspective when she next fronts.
 
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Loneliness 1.6
Content Warning: suicidal ideation and attempted suicide.

Each section to which a content warning applies will be preceded by a 'CW(topics)' marker and a section separator, as stated in the work's summary. This chapter actually only contains one section, but it is marked anyway for consistency with other chapters.

Please ensure you are in a safe headspace before reading, whether that means waiting to read, getting comfort food, reading with a friend, or something else.



CW(suicide attempt, suicidal ideation)



I woke up to the sound of the front door closing, and was met with several unexpected sights when I opened my eyes: I was in Kirby's body, I was sitting in Lisa's lap, Lisa was sitting—apparently asleep—on the floor of my kitchen, and her face was covered in dried tear tracks. I decided I at least wanted to be in my own body before trying to figure anything out, so I Changed back into my human form, which caused the no-longer-huge Lisa to stir.

She looked into my eyes for a moment with her own puffy and bloodshot ones before breaking down in tears and tightening her hug, her face buried in my shoulder. I halfheartedly hugged her back as I tried to get my bearings.

The last thing I remembered was being trapped in the hellhole that was Winslow, wishing I could get out and wishing I was dead. I guess I must have spaced out, missed the rest of the school day and missed coming home? I didn't think it was the first time I'd forgotten getting home from school, but I thought I usually regained awareness lying in bed.

Before I could try to resolve my confusion further, I heard Dad stomp into the room, and turned to see him looking livid.

"Why," Dad ground out, "is the back door hanging open with the key just sitting in the lock, why is there a villain in our house, and why is there a knife on the floor?"

I glanced around briefly until my eyes settled on the knife lying on the floor in front of the sink.

… Huh. That was odd. It was the same knife I had imagined killing myself with earlier. Identical to how I had envisioned it, in fact. And it was lying on the floor right where I'd been standing in my… imagination…

The blood drained from my face, and I whispered hoarsely to Lisa, "I didn't imagine it, did I?"

She shook her head while it was still buried in my shoulder, and I felt myself drawn inexorably to ask the followup question. "Then how-" I whispered, "how am I alive?"

"Y-your power w-w-won't let you h-hurt yourself badly," she sobbed into my shoulder, stuttering and hiccuping.

Right after Lisa said that, I realized that today wasn't the first time I'd imagined killing myself. Or thought I'd imagined killing myself. Not even close. How many of those had actually been—

"D-don't know," Lisa mumbled, preempting my question. "P-power said several," she managed, before she started crying even harder.

I felt sick, and just as I was wondering how I was going to get to a sink or toilet with Lisa clinging to me, she stood up with me and we walked together to the kitchen sink.

I dry heaved for several minutes straight, tears starting to flow down my cheeks as well. Meanwhile, Lisa wouldn't even loosen her grip on me, hugging me as if I might vanish at any moment. And as soon as I noticed that, I was filled with dread.

I finally finished trying to puke nothing, and I whimpered to Lisa, "Wh-what did you see?"

She sniffled into my shoulder and replied just as quietly, "Right as you were doing it, just seconds too late to stop you."

I dry heaved more, wishing there was something in my stomach to get rid of. The water was turned on next to my head, and a few moments later, Dad pushed a glass of water into my hand. After finally managing to regain control of my stomach, I mumbled in thanks to Dad, and started sipping on the beverage.

Unfortunately, once I had regained my composure, he also wanted answers.

"Well?" asked Dad, failing to keep the anger out of his voice. "Let's start with you Lisa. What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear that I don't want villains in this house."

"I'll answer all your questions Danny," Lisa snarled, turning to him but not loosening her grip on me in the slightest. "I'm here because sending Taylor to school was a horrible idea, and I knew she'd need comfort and support when she got home. So I waited in my car until I saw her walk up to the house. The back door is open because Taylor didn't reply when I knocked, and I knew something bad was happening. And when I found your spare key and opened the back door, I got distracted before I could replace the key and close the door. What was I distracted by? I WAS DISTRACTED BY TAYLOR TRYING TO STAB HERSELF WITH THE KNIFE THAT'S NOW ON THE FLOOR, AND ONLY SURVIVING BECAUSE OF HER POWER!"

Dad was rendered speechless, and Lisa turned back to bury her face in my shoulder. Her crying picked up again, and I squeezed her gently, trying to comfort her.

After a few minutes, Lisa's crying had slowed to sniffles, and Dad's speech returned to him.

"I'm sorry Taylor. I shouldn't have sent you back to Winslow," he said. "I didn't know it was hurting you so much, and I didn't know you were doing so badly.

"We'll get you the help you need. We'll sign you up with the Wards, and I'll make sure therapy and immediate transfer to Arcadia are conditions for you joining in the contract."

"Dad, please," I half-whispered. "I can't spend even more time dealing with teenage drama. Or deal with all the rules and bureaucracy. Please."

"Taylor, you have to do this," he said, trying to mix gentleness and firmness. "We can't afford therapy for you on our own. This is the only way to get you the help you need."

"DO YOU NOT HEAR YOURSELF?!" Lisa shrieked. "LISTEN TO YOUR DAUGHTER FOR ONCE! STOP ASSUMING YOU ALWAYS KNOW BEST!"

"Also," said Dad, his voice hardening, "Lisa will not be coming here anymore. You will not be hanging out with her, here or anywhere else. No. More. Villains."

Everything felt far away, and as if through a thick fog. I felt tears streaming down my face. I had to get out. I couldn't do this anymore. Lisa had said she'd take me in, so hopefully I could escape with her.

I tried to pull out of Lisa's grasp, and surprisingly she let me. She gave my hand a quick squeeze followed by a subtle push on my forearm, which I took to mean that she knew what I was planning and supported it. I ran upstairs to my room and slammed the door.

I grabbed my old duffel bag from summer camp out of my closet and started stuffing clothing into it, not really paying attention to what I was doing and just trying to fit as much as possible. Lisa was shrieking a lot at Dad in the background, with Dad now shouting back, but everything was still way too far away for me to understand anything either of them said. I noticed the slippers Lisa had given me sitting by my bed, and made sure to stuff them into the duffel as well; I didn't want to lose my one gift from her. I didn't really have any other personal effects I cared about though, so when I closed the bag, it still only had clothing in it.

Lisa and Dad had stopped arguing and were glaring at each other angrily when I came back down the stairs. Lisa turned to me and gave me a small, silent nod, before walking to the back door and picking up a shopping bag. She then followed me as I walked to the front door carrying the duffel bag.

"Taylor, what are you doing? Put that bag down—you're not going anywhere," he ordered.

"I'm not safe here anymore," I said between sniffles. "I'm sorry Dad. I'll call you."

I rushed out the front door and to Lisa's car that I saw parked a couple houses down. Lisa hurried down the front steps of the house a moment later, seemingly having said one last thing to Dad. She unlocked the car for us, and handed me the shopping bag as we both took our seats.

"I got these for you," she said hoarsely. "Feel free to sample the pastries while I drive. My apartment isn't far."

I sat back and cried as Lisa drove us away.



Author's Notes:

Huge thanks to the lovely @Glen for beta reading this chapter. SPAG corrections in comments always welcome.

This should be the last chapter that deals significantly with suicide. Lisa may tell Taylor what her trigger was in a future chapter, but it will not be detailed.

It's going to be a journey, but this is the start of things getting better for Taylor.
 
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Loneliness 1.7
Content Warning: oblique mention of suicide

Each section to which a content warning applies will be preceded by a 'CW(topics)' marker and a section separator, as stated in the work's summary.

Please ensure you are in a safe headspace before reading, whether that means waiting to read, getting comfort food, reading with a friend, or something else.



I didn't end up touching the pastries in the car, instead staring blankly out the windshield. I didn't want to think about what had just happened. I didn't want to think about how I was now a runaway or how I was now relying on Lisa's goodwill, much less any of the other things that had transpired.

At some point during the ride, Lisa took my hand and gently tugged it over to the center console, and started making circles on the back of it again. I'd have to remember to thank her later for doing that all the time; it always helped me. I couldn't seem to muster up the ability to speak at the moment though.

The ride was overall uneventful, and we arrived at Lisa's apartment in what felt like only a few minutes.



CW(mention of suicide)



Lisa's apartment was fairly plain with modern furnishings, though it had little in the way of personal decoration. She led me to her white couch that looked to be straight out of a real estate listing and encouraged me to sit down and relax. She took her shopping bag back from me and placed a bakery box and a few DVDs from the bag on the coffee table.

"I don't have a tea infuser, but I'll figure out some way to make tea for you. Again, help yourself to the pastries, or maybe pick out a movie you want to watch? I'll just be in the kitchen if you need me."

Lisa walked into the kitchen behind me, and I heard some clanging of pots. I wasn't actually sure how to go about making loose-leaf tea without an infuser or a teapot but I assumed a Thinker could figure something out. Perhaps just dump the tea leaves into a pot and ladle out cups of tea a few minutes later? She probably had a ladle, right?

I was jolted out of my thoughts by a steaming mug of chamomile being set in front of me on the coffee table. My mind had wandered again, hadn't it. Lisa promptly sat down next to me with the box of pastries open on her lap and wrapped an arm tightly around me.

"Drink up sweetie. And have a cinnamon roll." She held the pastry out to me with her left hand, and with much continuous coaxing, I alternated taking sips of tea and bites of the delicious confection.

I eventually finished the tea, cinnamon roll, and a pain au chocolat, and we sat together in silence on the couch. Lisa was clinging to me even more tightly than before, with both of her arms now wrapped around me and her head leaning on my shoulder.

"Lisa?" I asked with some amount of confusion.

The blonde sighed sadly. "I'm sorry for being so clingy, but I'm just so scared." We lapsed back into silence for several minutes, and I was about to ask what she was scared of when she spoke again.

"Do you know what a second trigger is, Taylor?"

Lisa's seemingly unrelated question caught me off guard. "No?" I said tentatively.

She stared down at her lap. "A second trigger occurs when a parahuman experiences a situation similar to but even more severe than the trigger event in which they originally received their powers. The parahuman's powers generally get stronger and have looser restrictions."

My new friend was quiet for so long after that small tangent that I thought she was done talking, but eventually she continued in a whisper interspersed with sniffles.

"My trigger event was finding my brother's body. And I got the power to never again miss the sort of details that would have told me how dangerously depressed he was."

I turned towards Lisa in horror, realizing what I had done to her. I hugged her back just as fiercely and cried into her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Lis—"

"No," she cut me off firmly. "Don't ever be sorry for hurting, or for what you do in response to that. You weren't doing it to cause me pain. I'm just glad you're alive."

We both continued crying into each other's shoulders and held each other for a long time.



A long while later, we partially broke apart and Lisa asked me another important question.

"How do you feel about unmasking to the rest of the Undersiders and living with us at the loft? I usually live there rather than this apartment, though I'm happy to live here with you instead. I'd still have to spend a solid chunk of time there with my team, but I'm certainly not going to leave you all alone. I think it would be better for you to be around more people, but I'll do whatever you're most comfortable with. Obviously, I'd have to ask the rest of my team if they're okay with it first as well."

I pondered the question for a while—perhaps too long—and Lisa cut in. "For what it's worth, Rachel is… prickly around new people, and she seems to have taken to you pretty quickly. She's the hardest person to convince, so I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"… Who was Rachel again?" My cheeks turned pink.

Lisa chuckled softly. "She was the one with the dogs who patted you on the head. Which, as far as I know, she has never done to any other person before."

The pleasant memory of having someone pat my head returned to me at Lisa's words, and I blushed a bit harder. It felt silly to enjoy something like that so much and to have it affect my choice so much, but I reached a decision in just seconds.

"Okay," I said shyly. "I'd like to live with you all at the loft if you'll have me. And I'm happy to unmask."

Lisa smiled gently at me and said, "I'll text them all real quick. But I'll be here for you no matter what, okay?" I nodded to her as she pulled out her phone briefly, and we returned to cuddling a few moments later.

For the first time in a long time, I had a spark of hope in my life.



I was softly shaken awake by a hand on my shoulder, and I peered blearily up at Lisa.

"You should sleep in a proper bed. I've set up the bed in the guest room for you, and brought your stuff in there."

I nodded absently to her as I stood up and regained my bearings. She led me halfway down a short hallway to a cozy looking room with a full size bed.

"You gonna be okay sweetie? I'm just at the end of the hall if you need me."

In lieu of a reply I gave her a quick hug. "Night night, Taylor," she said and then walked away behind me.

I changed quickly into my pajamas and flopped onto the bed, exhausted. The day felt so long that I was barely sure that I had gone to school today and not yesterday. My mind even felt too tired to keep me awake with incessant thoughts.



I was almost asleep when I heard quiet sobs and then quiet footsteps in the hall. A soft knock on my door pulled me fully to consciousness.

"Taylor? Are you still awake?"

I shuffled to the door and pulled it open to reveal Lisa wearing cute fox-print pajamas. More important however were her puffy eyes and the tears dripping down her face.

"C-can you please sleep with me tonight, Taylor? I'm t-t-too scared something will happen to you."

I barely had time to nod before she took my hand and dragged me to her room. She shoved a huge plush fox into my arms and then me into her queen size bed. I squeaked in surprise as she jumped in right after me and hugged me tightly from behind.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you Taylor. I'm just so—"

"I understand, Lisa. It's okay."

I sandwiched her hands between my tummy and her soft fox plushie, and we drifted off to sleep.



Author's Notes:
Huge thanks to the lovely @Glen and @EnygmaSoul for beta reading this chapter. SPAG corrections always welcome.

This should be the last chapter that deals significantly with suicide, for real this time.

I'm sorry for the huge delay since the last chapter. I've started writing two other fics since then, and also had several stressful life events happen. Future updates to this fic will hopefully be a bit more frequent, but will still be less frequent than updates to Sisters in All but Blood and Family of Nine.

I'm planning to do a minor rewrite of this fic, probably before posting the next chapter. The main thing I'm going to do is attempt to make Lisa a bit more bitchy and snarky prior to her second trigger, to help justify Danny distrusting her more. You won't really need to reread the fic for that—just imagine Lisa being bitchy in your head. There are also a bunch of spelling and formatting issues in previous chapters that need fixing, but again, no reread required.

My next few updates will hopefully be to Family of Nine (which is only on AO3 at this time).
 
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