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.
