This is my thread for oneshots, loose concepts that I wrote a chapter or two on but probably won't ever continue, and whatever other Worm-related writing I might come up with that doesn't warrant it's own thread.
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Info + Justice
This is my thread for oneshots, loose concepts that I wrote a chapter or two on but probably won't ever continue, and whatever other Worm-related writing I might come up with that doesn't warrant it's own thread.
I'm likely also going to be uploading the start of a long-form story in the near future, but I have no time-frame on this yet (also see the disclaimer below), and I'm not 100% sure it'll get through the content review. I think it will.
Disclaimer: My writing speed is highly irregular. Not day to day, but rather month to month. Sometimes, I write 2000 words per day, every day, for three months straight. Sometimes, I don't write a single word for five months. This means that when the writing is going well, I update regularly, quite possibly weekly. When the writing isn't going well, I might not update for several months. But I will always come back.
Justice
AN: A disproportionate amount of the oneshots posted here will probably have more sympathetic depictions of the Trio than canon. This first one, though... not so much.
Summary: After Taylor triggers, she decides she wants to know just what made Emma turn on her, so she starts using her new powers to spy on her former friend. And during one of those sessions, she learns that perhaps Alan and Zoe are not as aware of Emma's actions at Winslow as she made Taylor believe...
It was about three weeks after the Locker Incident that it happened. After getting used to my bug senses, I'd started to spy on Emma in an attempt to figure out just why she had turned on me. Part of me thought it a long shot, but if nothing else it was good practice for when I became a hero – and my costume wasn't ready yet, anyway.
The best time to learn things was during the family's dinner time, and that was indeed when I overheard the conversation that changed everything.
"How is Taylor doing?" Alan asked.
Inside, I felt fury boil. Emma had threatened both me and the school with legal action, always pointing out that her father was a lawyer, in my view making him complicit in the hell that became my life, and he dared ask that?
"She's around again," Emma said, disinterested. I could almost hear the shrug. "We haven't talked in ages, dad, I told you that before."
"I know you went through a hard time, but isn't it a bit much to still hold it against her that she shouted at you one time a year and a half ago?" he asked gently.
I had no clue what he was talking about.
When Emma replied, it sounded like she wanted to change the topic. "I know it's not big, but seriously, all I want is to hear 'sorry'. I apologized to her about it, you know. And I told her several times that all I wanted was an apology in return."
She had never told me anything about wanting an apology. Neither had she, for that matter, ever apologized for anything after turning on me.
"I'm just worried about her," Alan said. "Danny was, and still is, in a bad place, I've barely even talked to him these last few years, and then you told me she was hospitalized over the holidays."
Over the holidays? Now wait a moment, I was only hospitalized after coming back to school, and because your devilspawn tried to murder me!
"I don't even know what she had," Emma said. "She didn't try to reach out to me either. It's like I don't exist for her. I tried for months, dad, but at some point I figured I should just take the hint. If she doesn't want to apologize, then we won't be friends anymore. Trust me, I don't like it either."
It was in that lull in the conversation that realization suddenly dawned on me. Alan didn't actually know. Emma, the two-faced liar that she was, had told him and Zoe some made-up crap to excuse why I wasn't visiting anymore. And if he didn't know... then that meant Emma's threats regarding legal action might be empty.
Alan cared for Emma, I knew that. But before Emma's change, he'd cared about me too. After mom's death, he and Zoe had stepped in for dad on multiple occasions to make sure I was fine.
Emma had managed to make me believe Alan would back her against me even if I told him about everything she'd done to me. But perhaps... perhaps he wouldn't see it as his daughter being slandered by a random classmate. Perhaps, he might just believe me.
If nothing else, it was worth a try.
I'd spied on Emma for a while already, so I knew that after dinner she tended to either go to her room and spend time online, or leave for at least an hour or two to meet up with her friends. In either case, it meant she wasn't normally seen in the living room for several hours, while that was where Alan spent his time.
So the next day, evidence in my bag, I arrived at their house just when they were about to finish dinner. I waited until dinner was over. Emma went to her room, Alan went to his customary chair in the living room, and for bonus points Zoe was going to visit a friend.
I waited an additional five minutes to make sure Emma didn't suddenly have something she wanted to say to her father, and then I walked up to the door and rang the bell. It took Alan some ten seconds to open the door – I'd carefully tracked his movement through the house, of course.
"Taylor!" he exclaimed, though thankfully not loud enough for the Bitch to hear. "Do you want to talk to Emma? I'll call her."
"No," I said quickly, before he gave a holler and ruined everything. "I'm here to talk with you, Mr Barnes."
He frowned. "I know you and Emma have been going through a rough patch, but you can still call me Uncle Alan, Taylor."
"Alright then," I said neutrally. "Can I come in? I'd actually prefer if Emma doesn't know I'm here, at least for now."
"Well, come on in." I put my coat on the rack, then followed him to the living room.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" he asked.
I considered my words. All day, different ways to approach this conversation had gone through my head. Where to start. How to express certain things. How much detail to tell Alan. By now, I thought I had a decent approach.
"You know that I'm not friends with Emma anymore, right?"
He nodded.
"This week, I overheard her saying something that made me believe she lied to you and Aunt Zoe about the reason for that," I continued.
"I find that hard to believe," he said.
"By now, I don't want to be friends with Emma anymore," I admitted honestly. "But for several months after things went wrong, I tried everything I could to make up. Asking her what's wrong, apologizing even though I didn't know what I'd done wrong, I even begged her at one point. She..." I swallowed. "She was my only real friend at the time, and to lose her..."
"That's not what she told me," Alan said.
"So she did lie, then," I concluded.
"I suppose there's a very easy way to figure that out, right?" Alan said with a strained smile. "I'll call her down here. She said you shouted at her, then refused to apologize for it, and that all she wants is an apology from you. If you apologize to her and it's all fine, well, then it's fine. If you either won't apologize, or she isn't fine with your apology, then we'll talk about the problem and why either of you felt the need to lie."
He went to move to the stairs, but I stopped him again. "Would you mind hearing me out a bit more, first? I... let's just say I'd much rather tell you this without her listening in. After I've told you everything, you can ask her whether it's true."
Already, things were going as well as I'd hoped for. Alan was hearing me out, and didn't dismiss what I told him outright. But Emma had a way with words, and I didn't want to risk her somehow spinning things in a way that might let her get away with things or even convince Alan that I was at fault.
Thankfully, he nodded and told me to continue.
"I'm glad you're willing to hear me out, at least," I said. "To be honest, I was worried you'd back Emma against me no matter what I told you. That's what she did her very best to make me believe, at least."
Alan actually looked concerned now. "You might not be my daughter, but there's a reason I let you call me 'uncle', Taylor. It wouldn't do for me to not at least hear you out."
I reflexively looked down to my feet for a moment. It was the reaction to my next words that would make or break this conversation. "Emma... she just turned into a bully overnight. When I went to camp, we were friends. Then, I came back and she... she just started messing with me."
"In what way?" Alan asked. He sounded serious, thankfully.
"Basically every way. She'd insult me, make fun of mom's death, or talk to her friends about how stupid or ugly or whatever I was while making sure I could hear it."
"Who were these friends?" Alan asked.
"There's quite a few, but the main two are Sophia Hess and Madison Clements."
He nodded and gestured for me to continue.
"They'd also do things like push me in the hallways, or deliberately spill juice over my clothes. It just... it got worse and worse. And whenever I talked to someone else, they'd bully them too, until no one even wanted to talk to me."
"If that's true, why did you not go to the teachers?" Alan asked critically.
"I did!" I responded, barely remembering to keep my voice down lest Emma hear me. "They didn't do anything about it, said I was lying. Every time, until they started to give me detentions for it. So I gathered evidence and showed it to Blackwell, and I just got more detentions. That's when I stopped reporting it to them."
I hesitated momentarily. "And... Emma also threatened me, and maybe the school, by saying you'd sue me if I kept reporting what they did."
Alan looked angry now. "I would never do that, Taylor. At least not without a mountain of evidence that you're lying, and right now the only argument I have against what you're telling me is that I don't want to believe my daughter could do this to her friend, and it's fraying at the edges. Continue."
I shot across the room and hugged him. Tears started to gather in my eyes. "Thank you! I'm... I didn't know what to do anymore." I didn't know what more to say, instead I just cried on his shoulder until I'd calmed down.
He sat me down next to him, closer than I'd been before.
"I started writing everything down," I said. "From September to December." I grabbed the notebook from my bag and showed it to him.
He put an arm around me for comfort as he flipped through the book. With every page, marked with a date and with the offenses written down in detail, he got angrier and angrier.
When he closed it, I spoke up again. "The first day back after the holidays, when I went back to school..." I hesitated. It was hard to speak of that day.
"Emma told me you'd been hospitalized over the holidays," Alan said, though he sounded extremely doubtful of that right now.
"I wasn't," I said. "They'd... they'd put all kinds of trash into my locker before the holidays, at the hospital they described it as 'medical waste'. Let it fester for two weeks, then... when I opened my locker they..." Again, I trailed off, tears welling up in my eyes once more.
Alan hugged me. "Tell me." He sounded furious.
"They pushed me into it. Then... locked it. I... according to the nurse, I needed Panacea's healing to survive."
Alan kept comforting me, asking more questions, and I told him what I'd learned in the hospital once I could speak and listen again after a week of being unresponsive. More than a dozen STD's, which had entered my bloodstream from the scratches I'd suffered in my desperate attempts to get out of the locker. Numerous infections. Septic shock, which was the immediate reason why Panacea had been called in. And then a week's recovery. I needed several more minutes to calm down somewhat, and when Alan finally let go of me, I realized he was shaking.
He walked to the stairs. "Emma! Get down here right now!"
Alan returned, every step incredibly measured. When he picked up my notebook, I froze. "This is vital evidence," he said. "Make sure no one else gets their hands on it."
"What's going on?" Emma turned the corner, then froze when she saw me. "Dad, whatever she told you, I'm sure it's not true."
"Sit down," Alan ordered as he himself sat next to me.
Emma obeyed.
"Emma, you've learned a few things about law and the justice system through me, right?"
She nodded.
"There are some accusations that need to be taken seriously even if you are incredibly skeptical of their veracity. Attempted manslaughter is one of those."
"What the hell did she tell you?" Emma demanded.
"You will wait to speak until I am done talking," Alan responded, steel in his voice. "Even if I were skeptical of what Taylor has told me tonight, my professional duty, let alone my fondness for Taylor, would demand I take it seriously, even if my own daughter is involved. As things stand, I have spent half an hour speaking with Taylor, discussing nothing but her many incredibly detailed accusations of consistent bullying, growing worse and worse over time, so varied it is almost impossible that she's lying. She showed me this notebook, with months of bullying, logged by date, detailing exactly what happened."
"I didn't bully anyone!" Emma defended herself. "She's lying! Why do you think I'm not talking to her anymore? She just wants to screw me over! Screw us over, our family! And what is this bullshit about 'attempted manslaughter'?"
Alan stood up, leaning forward with his hands resting on the table, towering over his daughter. "You told me Taylor had been hospitalized over the holidays. Meanwhile, Taylor told me she was instead hospitalized after the most disgusting, vile attack I have ever had the displeasure of hearing about, and I am a divorce lawyer for a living. Her claims are easily verifiable by simply asking the hospital. She required Panacea's miracle healing to even survive.
"You, Emma, are grounded and confined to your room until further notice. You will not leave, not even for school. You are only allowed out for meals, we will disconnect your internet, and you have to hand in your phone to us."
"You can't do that!" she screamed.
"Silence! When I called you down here, I wanted to hear you out, but the way you are behaving only makes me believe that Taylor's accusations are spot on. If she is lying after all, you will be out tomorrow the moment I've heard back from the hospital, and I will apologize. If she is speaking the truth, being grounded will be the least of your worries."
Emma continued to complain, to the point where Alan had to escort her to her room – though he did not have to bodily drag her there. In the process, I heard how he demanded her phone and paused to disconnect her internet. In fact, he explicitly stated he did not want to let her contact anyone.
Then, he returned downstairs and sat next to me again.
"I want to suggest that you push charges against her and the others," he said. "Attempted manslaughter, I think. Because that's what this was, straight up - though a criminal lawyer might be able to provide more detail. As much as it pains me, I cannot let my love for my daughter impede justice when it is this likely that a crime occurred."
"We can't," I said. "We don't have the money. The school threatened to take things to court if we didn't take the settlement, and we can't pay for that."
"I'll pay for it," Alan said resolutely. "If I can confirm this with the hospital, I'll even see if I can get Carol Dallon from New Wave to chip in."
He was silent for a few seconds, lost in thought.
"There is another thing. Sophia Hess has ties to the PRT, which may explain why the school was so eager to cover things up. I actually put in a word for her a few years ago, and based on what I know, I don't expect the important people at the PRT to be aware of her behavior. On the off-chance that they are, this might become a lot harder, and I'll certainly need Carol. The good news is that no matter her flaws, she has a strong sense of justice, and will absolutely fight the PRT if she thinks they're in the wrong, so everything should work out."
He handed my notebook back to me. "Take this with you, keep it close. If you can, make a copy and keep it separate, or hand it to someone you trust. I'll take tomorrow off work. First thing, I'll be visiting the hospital to confirm the date you were admitted and what you were admitted for. Then, I'll look into the settlement you had with the school, or as much as I'm allowed to view at least. After that, I'll visit the school and request all information involving Emma, detentions, complaints, everything. Once all that's done, I will contact the legal representatives of the PRT about the matter, and then, to end the day, I will come and visit you and your father to tell you how everything went. I recommend you stay home tomorrow. Partly because I can't predict how the school will react, and partly because I'm worried about something I cannot share with you."
I nodded, and once again I felt tears well up in my eyes. I hugged Alan. "Thanks for believing me."
He rubbed the back of my head. "It's the least I can do for you, Taylor. In all honesty, something didn't sit right with what Emma told me about the two of you already, but it was just plausible enough that I didn't feel the need to contact you to confirm it. I realize now that that was a mistake. I'm sorry."
I squeezed the hug one last time, and then said my goodbyes and another thanks before leaving.
Everything went more or less as Alan had predicted. Winslow tried to obstruct him, but they relented once he took a leaf out of his daughter's book and threatened legal action – this time not an empty threat – and the PRT turned out to be unaware and indeed most displeased about Sophia's actions. Over the next few weeks, I learned that the bitch had been a Ward, supposedly a hero, and wasn't that revelation like having a bucket of cold water poured over you.
Somewhere in the entire mess, with adults now finally doing what they were supposed to, I found the confidence to reveal my powers to Alan and my father, and by late March I took Shadow Stalker's old place in the Wards, which my new teammates apparently considered a big improvement – and that was before they learned of the history between me and her.
The month after that, I sat in the courtroom as I witnessed all three of the main tormentors sentenced to several years in juvie. The attempted manslaughter charge had been proven - specifically, the entire thing had been ruled a biocrime - with Panacea's testimony about healing me and more importantly an admission of guilt from Madison making it rather clear-cut even though Emma and Sophia kept denying everything. On top of that, several lesser harassment and abuse charges about the bullying had also gone through.
Alan cried as the verdict was read out, but he'd never once wavered in his quest to dig up the truth. After we'd left the courtroom, he told me that he'd seen the entire thing more as a case between two of his daughters than anything else, and it meant the world to me.
I'm likely also going to be uploading the start of a long-form story in the near future, but I have no time-frame on this yet (also see the disclaimer below), and I'm not 100% sure it'll get through the content review. I think it will.
Disclaimer: My writing speed is highly irregular. Not day to day, but rather month to month. Sometimes, I write 2000 words per day, every day, for three months straight. Sometimes, I don't write a single word for five months. This means that when the writing is going well, I update regularly, quite possibly weekly. When the writing isn't going well, I might not update for several months. But I will always come back.
Justice
AN: A disproportionate amount of the oneshots posted here will probably have more sympathetic depictions of the Trio than canon. This first one, though... not so much.
Summary: After Taylor triggers, she decides she wants to know just what made Emma turn on her, so she starts using her new powers to spy on her former friend. And during one of those sessions, she learns that perhaps Alan and Zoe are not as aware of Emma's actions at Winslow as she made Taylor believe...
It was about three weeks after the Locker Incident that it happened. After getting used to my bug senses, I'd started to spy on Emma in an attempt to figure out just why she had turned on me. Part of me thought it a long shot, but if nothing else it was good practice for when I became a hero – and my costume wasn't ready yet, anyway.
The best time to learn things was during the family's dinner time, and that was indeed when I overheard the conversation that changed everything.
"How is Taylor doing?" Alan asked.
Inside, I felt fury boil. Emma had threatened both me and the school with legal action, always pointing out that her father was a lawyer, in my view making him complicit in the hell that became my life, and he dared ask that?
"She's around again," Emma said, disinterested. I could almost hear the shrug. "We haven't talked in ages, dad, I told you that before."
"I know you went through a hard time, but isn't it a bit much to still hold it against her that she shouted at you one time a year and a half ago?" he asked gently.
I had no clue what he was talking about.
When Emma replied, it sounded like she wanted to change the topic. "I know it's not big, but seriously, all I want is to hear 'sorry'. I apologized to her about it, you know. And I told her several times that all I wanted was an apology in return."
She had never told me anything about wanting an apology. Neither had she, for that matter, ever apologized for anything after turning on me.
"I'm just worried about her," Alan said. "Danny was, and still is, in a bad place, I've barely even talked to him these last few years, and then you told me she was hospitalized over the holidays."
Over the holidays? Now wait a moment, I was only hospitalized after coming back to school, and because your devilspawn tried to murder me!
"I don't even know what she had," Emma said. "She didn't try to reach out to me either. It's like I don't exist for her. I tried for months, dad, but at some point I figured I should just take the hint. If she doesn't want to apologize, then we won't be friends anymore. Trust me, I don't like it either."
It was in that lull in the conversation that realization suddenly dawned on me. Alan didn't actually know. Emma, the two-faced liar that she was, had told him and Zoe some made-up crap to excuse why I wasn't visiting anymore. And if he didn't know... then that meant Emma's threats regarding legal action might be empty.
Alan cared for Emma, I knew that. But before Emma's change, he'd cared about me too. After mom's death, he and Zoe had stepped in for dad on multiple occasions to make sure I was fine.
Emma had managed to make me believe Alan would back her against me even if I told him about everything she'd done to me. But perhaps... perhaps he wouldn't see it as his daughter being slandered by a random classmate. Perhaps, he might just believe me.
If nothing else, it was worth a try.
I'd spied on Emma for a while already, so I knew that after dinner she tended to either go to her room and spend time online, or leave for at least an hour or two to meet up with her friends. In either case, it meant she wasn't normally seen in the living room for several hours, while that was where Alan spent his time.
So the next day, evidence in my bag, I arrived at their house just when they were about to finish dinner. I waited until dinner was over. Emma went to her room, Alan went to his customary chair in the living room, and for bonus points Zoe was going to visit a friend.
I waited an additional five minutes to make sure Emma didn't suddenly have something she wanted to say to her father, and then I walked up to the door and rang the bell. It took Alan some ten seconds to open the door – I'd carefully tracked his movement through the house, of course.
"Taylor!" he exclaimed, though thankfully not loud enough for the Bitch to hear. "Do you want to talk to Emma? I'll call her."
"No," I said quickly, before he gave a holler and ruined everything. "I'm here to talk with you, Mr Barnes."
He frowned. "I know you and Emma have been going through a rough patch, but you can still call me Uncle Alan, Taylor."
"Alright then," I said neutrally. "Can I come in? I'd actually prefer if Emma doesn't know I'm here, at least for now."
"Well, come on in." I put my coat on the rack, then followed him to the living room.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" he asked.
I considered my words. All day, different ways to approach this conversation had gone through my head. Where to start. How to express certain things. How much detail to tell Alan. By now, I thought I had a decent approach.
"You know that I'm not friends with Emma anymore, right?"
He nodded.
"This week, I overheard her saying something that made me believe she lied to you and Aunt Zoe about the reason for that," I continued.
"I find that hard to believe," he said.
"By now, I don't want to be friends with Emma anymore," I admitted honestly. "But for several months after things went wrong, I tried everything I could to make up. Asking her what's wrong, apologizing even though I didn't know what I'd done wrong, I even begged her at one point. She..." I swallowed. "She was my only real friend at the time, and to lose her..."
"That's not what she told me," Alan said.
"So she did lie, then," I concluded.
"I suppose there's a very easy way to figure that out, right?" Alan said with a strained smile. "I'll call her down here. She said you shouted at her, then refused to apologize for it, and that all she wants is an apology from you. If you apologize to her and it's all fine, well, then it's fine. If you either won't apologize, or she isn't fine with your apology, then we'll talk about the problem and why either of you felt the need to lie."
He went to move to the stairs, but I stopped him again. "Would you mind hearing me out a bit more, first? I... let's just say I'd much rather tell you this without her listening in. After I've told you everything, you can ask her whether it's true."
Already, things were going as well as I'd hoped for. Alan was hearing me out, and didn't dismiss what I told him outright. But Emma had a way with words, and I didn't want to risk her somehow spinning things in a way that might let her get away with things or even convince Alan that I was at fault.
Thankfully, he nodded and told me to continue.
"I'm glad you're willing to hear me out, at least," I said. "To be honest, I was worried you'd back Emma against me no matter what I told you. That's what she did her very best to make me believe, at least."
Alan actually looked concerned now. "You might not be my daughter, but there's a reason I let you call me 'uncle', Taylor. It wouldn't do for me to not at least hear you out."
I reflexively looked down to my feet for a moment. It was the reaction to my next words that would make or break this conversation. "Emma... she just turned into a bully overnight. When I went to camp, we were friends. Then, I came back and she... she just started messing with me."
"In what way?" Alan asked. He sounded serious, thankfully.
"Basically every way. She'd insult me, make fun of mom's death, or talk to her friends about how stupid or ugly or whatever I was while making sure I could hear it."
"Who were these friends?" Alan asked.
"There's quite a few, but the main two are Sophia Hess and Madison Clements."
He nodded and gestured for me to continue.
"They'd also do things like push me in the hallways, or deliberately spill juice over my clothes. It just... it got worse and worse. And whenever I talked to someone else, they'd bully them too, until no one even wanted to talk to me."
"If that's true, why did you not go to the teachers?" Alan asked critically.
"I did!" I responded, barely remembering to keep my voice down lest Emma hear me. "They didn't do anything about it, said I was lying. Every time, until they started to give me detentions for it. So I gathered evidence and showed it to Blackwell, and I just got more detentions. That's when I stopped reporting it to them."
I hesitated momentarily. "And... Emma also threatened me, and maybe the school, by saying you'd sue me if I kept reporting what they did."
Alan looked angry now. "I would never do that, Taylor. At least not without a mountain of evidence that you're lying, and right now the only argument I have against what you're telling me is that I don't want to believe my daughter could do this to her friend, and it's fraying at the edges. Continue."
I shot across the room and hugged him. Tears started to gather in my eyes. "Thank you! I'm... I didn't know what to do anymore." I didn't know what more to say, instead I just cried on his shoulder until I'd calmed down.
He sat me down next to him, closer than I'd been before.
"I started writing everything down," I said. "From September to December." I grabbed the notebook from my bag and showed it to him.
He put an arm around me for comfort as he flipped through the book. With every page, marked with a date and with the offenses written down in detail, he got angrier and angrier.
When he closed it, I spoke up again. "The first day back after the holidays, when I went back to school..." I hesitated. It was hard to speak of that day.
"Emma told me you'd been hospitalized over the holidays," Alan said, though he sounded extremely doubtful of that right now.
"I wasn't," I said. "They'd... they'd put all kinds of trash into my locker before the holidays, at the hospital they described it as 'medical waste'. Let it fester for two weeks, then... when I opened my locker they..." Again, I trailed off, tears welling up in my eyes once more.
Alan hugged me. "Tell me." He sounded furious.
"They pushed me into it. Then... locked it. I... according to the nurse, I needed Panacea's healing to survive."
Alan kept comforting me, asking more questions, and I told him what I'd learned in the hospital once I could speak and listen again after a week of being unresponsive. More than a dozen STD's, which had entered my bloodstream from the scratches I'd suffered in my desperate attempts to get out of the locker. Numerous infections. Septic shock, which was the immediate reason why Panacea had been called in. And then a week's recovery. I needed several more minutes to calm down somewhat, and when Alan finally let go of me, I realized he was shaking.
He walked to the stairs. "Emma! Get down here right now!"
Alan returned, every step incredibly measured. When he picked up my notebook, I froze. "This is vital evidence," he said. "Make sure no one else gets their hands on it."
"What's going on?" Emma turned the corner, then froze when she saw me. "Dad, whatever she told you, I'm sure it's not true."
"Sit down," Alan ordered as he himself sat next to me.
Emma obeyed.
"Emma, you've learned a few things about law and the justice system through me, right?"
She nodded.
"There are some accusations that need to be taken seriously even if you are incredibly skeptical of their veracity. Attempted manslaughter is one of those."
"What the hell did she tell you?" Emma demanded.
"You will wait to speak until I am done talking," Alan responded, steel in his voice. "Even if I were skeptical of what Taylor has told me tonight, my professional duty, let alone my fondness for Taylor, would demand I take it seriously, even if my own daughter is involved. As things stand, I have spent half an hour speaking with Taylor, discussing nothing but her many incredibly detailed accusations of consistent bullying, growing worse and worse over time, so varied it is almost impossible that she's lying. She showed me this notebook, with months of bullying, logged by date, detailing exactly what happened."
"I didn't bully anyone!" Emma defended herself. "She's lying! Why do you think I'm not talking to her anymore? She just wants to screw me over! Screw us over, our family! And what is this bullshit about 'attempted manslaughter'?"
Alan stood up, leaning forward with his hands resting on the table, towering over his daughter. "You told me Taylor had been hospitalized over the holidays. Meanwhile, Taylor told me she was instead hospitalized after the most disgusting, vile attack I have ever had the displeasure of hearing about, and I am a divorce lawyer for a living. Her claims are easily verifiable by simply asking the hospital. She required Panacea's miracle healing to even survive.
"You, Emma, are grounded and confined to your room until further notice. You will not leave, not even for school. You are only allowed out for meals, we will disconnect your internet, and you have to hand in your phone to us."
"You can't do that!" she screamed.
"Silence! When I called you down here, I wanted to hear you out, but the way you are behaving only makes me believe that Taylor's accusations are spot on. If she is lying after all, you will be out tomorrow the moment I've heard back from the hospital, and I will apologize. If she is speaking the truth, being grounded will be the least of your worries."
Emma continued to complain, to the point where Alan had to escort her to her room – though he did not have to bodily drag her there. In the process, I heard how he demanded her phone and paused to disconnect her internet. In fact, he explicitly stated he did not want to let her contact anyone.
Then, he returned downstairs and sat next to me again.
"I want to suggest that you push charges against her and the others," he said. "Attempted manslaughter, I think. Because that's what this was, straight up - though a criminal lawyer might be able to provide more detail. As much as it pains me, I cannot let my love for my daughter impede justice when it is this likely that a crime occurred."
"We can't," I said. "We don't have the money. The school threatened to take things to court if we didn't take the settlement, and we can't pay for that."
"I'll pay for it," Alan said resolutely. "If I can confirm this with the hospital, I'll even see if I can get Carol Dallon from New Wave to chip in."
He was silent for a few seconds, lost in thought.
"There is another thing. Sophia Hess has ties to the PRT, which may explain why the school was so eager to cover things up. I actually put in a word for her a few years ago, and based on what I know, I don't expect the important people at the PRT to be aware of her behavior. On the off-chance that they are, this might become a lot harder, and I'll certainly need Carol. The good news is that no matter her flaws, she has a strong sense of justice, and will absolutely fight the PRT if she thinks they're in the wrong, so everything should work out."
He handed my notebook back to me. "Take this with you, keep it close. If you can, make a copy and keep it separate, or hand it to someone you trust. I'll take tomorrow off work. First thing, I'll be visiting the hospital to confirm the date you were admitted and what you were admitted for. Then, I'll look into the settlement you had with the school, or as much as I'm allowed to view at least. After that, I'll visit the school and request all information involving Emma, detentions, complaints, everything. Once all that's done, I will contact the legal representatives of the PRT about the matter, and then, to end the day, I will come and visit you and your father to tell you how everything went. I recommend you stay home tomorrow. Partly because I can't predict how the school will react, and partly because I'm worried about something I cannot share with you."
I nodded, and once again I felt tears well up in my eyes. I hugged Alan. "Thanks for believing me."
He rubbed the back of my head. "It's the least I can do for you, Taylor. In all honesty, something didn't sit right with what Emma told me about the two of you already, but it was just plausible enough that I didn't feel the need to contact you to confirm it. I realize now that that was a mistake. I'm sorry."
I squeezed the hug one last time, and then said my goodbyes and another thanks before leaving.
Everything went more or less as Alan had predicted. Winslow tried to obstruct him, but they relented once he took a leaf out of his daughter's book and threatened legal action – this time not an empty threat – and the PRT turned out to be unaware and indeed most displeased about Sophia's actions. Over the next few weeks, I learned that the bitch had been a Ward, supposedly a hero, and wasn't that revelation like having a bucket of cold water poured over you.
Somewhere in the entire mess, with adults now finally doing what they were supposed to, I found the confidence to reveal my powers to Alan and my father, and by late March I took Shadow Stalker's old place in the Wards, which my new teammates apparently considered a big improvement – and that was before they learned of the history between me and her.
The month after that, I sat in the courtroom as I witnessed all three of the main tormentors sentenced to several years in juvie. The attempted manslaughter charge had been proven - specifically, the entire thing had been ruled a biocrime - with Panacea's testimony about healing me and more importantly an admission of guilt from Madison making it rather clear-cut even though Emma and Sophia kept denying everything. On top of that, several lesser harassment and abuse charges about the bullying had also gone through.
Alan cried as the verdict was read out, but he'd never once wavered in his quest to dig up the truth. After we'd left the courtroom, he told me that he'd seen the entire thing more as a case between two of his daughters than anything else, and it meant the world to me.
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Assault on the Dragon
AN: Another oneshot that doesn't do anything with the Trio - though to be fair, they barely appear on-screen. But the longfic I'll start posting soon does explore them further, so there's that. Which, for the record, isn't the fic I mentioned in the first post's author note. That one didn't make it through content review in the end, so I decided to write another fic first. I will get back to it at some point and just only post it on sites that allow NSFW content, though.
Assault on the Dragon
Summary: When a fight involving Lung is reported, Armsmaster is not the closest Protectorate responder. Instead, it's Assault.
Lung collapsed.
I couldn't believe it. On my very first night out, I'd taken down the most dangerous villain in the Bay. Sure, those other teens had helped a bit, but most of the work had been mine.
I tentatively approached the others, but paused when my bugs noticed someone approaching at high speed – faster than a car on a highway. He – I could now define his gender – slowed down as he approached us.
"Stand down!"
The four teenagers didn't seem interested in doing so, instead climbing on those lizard monsters of theirs and bounding out.
Which left me alone with an incapacitated Lung and the red-clad parahuman that I identified as Assault after a few seconds.
He looked after the lizard monsters, clearly weighing whether he should chase them or confront me, but then decided on the latter.
"What happened here?" He glanced at the downed body. "You killed Lung?"
"He's still alive," I said defensively. I had a bug on his pulse.
Assault knelt next to him to confirm it, then shackled him. "I'm going to have to call in Armsmaster," he said. "I don't know if I have the equipment required to keep Lung down if he wakes up. No sudden moves."
I waited in silence. Assault was clearly speaking over the radio, but not loud enough for me to hear what he was saying.
"Alright, he's on his way," Assault said. "Now, who are you? A new villain? I don't remember anyone who fits your description. Or are you from out of town?"
I muttered something.
"What was that?" Assault asked. It wasn't condescending, but rather it sounded like he genuinely hadn't heard what I said.
"I want to be a hero."
Assault snorted. "Bit of a misleading costume you have, then."
"I didn't realize it was going to look like this until it was already too late to change it," I admitted.
"So, who are you?" he asked, more gently now.
"I uh… I don't have a cape name yet. This was my first night out."
"You're kidding me," he said flatly. "Your first night out, and you take down Lung. Did you know that when Lung first entered this city, he fought the entire Protectorate to a stand-still? Your power has to be seriously strong. If you don't mind me asking, what can you do?"
"Bug control," I replied.
"Bug. Control. You took down Lung with bugs?" He whistled. "Color me impressed, girl. I'll admit, I probably wouldn't have believed you if I hadn't seen the results myself. I'm dying to ask more questions, but I should probably start by asking you what happened tonight."
I started talking, and Assault listened, occasionally nodding along or asking a question. He provided that the teens that had helped out were the Undersiders, a minor villain group with a penchant for escape, and halfway through the story Armsmaster arrived on his motorcycle to make sure Lung would remain properly detained. He and Assault exchanged a few words, but I didn't talk to him directly. Instead, once Armsmaster left, Assault asked me to continue my story.
Afterwards, Assault gave me a look of approval. "If you had asked me yesterday, I would've said that bug control is a useless, or perhaps marginally useful power. But you make it scarier than any other power I've come across here in the Bay."
I hung my head. "I don't want to be scary. I just want to help people."
"Do you want to join the Wards?" he asked.
"I… I don't know," I said hesitatingly.
Assault sighed and, after a brief look around, walked over to a waist-high stone wall, gesturing for me to follow along. He sat down, and after a moment I went to sit next to him.
"I'm going to make a bit of a guess," he said. "I could be completely wrong here, but you probably have bad experiences with authority figures, don't you? Maybe they didn't listen to you, maybe they took advantage of you, or something like that."
I hesitated, but nodded.
"I'm not going to ask you anything about what happened to you, so don't worry about that, but you know that triggering and getting superpowers is something that happens on what is often said to be 'the worst day of your life', right?"
I felt myself clam up just thinking of the locker, but I nodded again.
"I don't know whether these two things are related, and I won't ask," Assault said, "but I want you to realize something that's obvious once you think about it, yet very easily missed otherwise. You, me and everyone else who has superpowers, we've all gone through something terrible. We all know what it's like to have lost all hope, or to be in a life-threatening situation, to be abandoned or to have everything taken away from us.
"One way or another, every parahuman is a bit screwed up. Irrational fears, resentment, violent tendencies, control issues, you could keep going. Most people might not understand you, but most parahumans will. If you join the Wards, you get a group of friends who have all gone through something similar, people you'll spend a lot of time with, and you'll have us Protectorate members to look out for you or take care of you; we've also gone through horrible things ourselves. We know what it's like, and we know how important it is to give you the space you need."
Once more, I felt hesitant. "I… guess I should probably join," I said. "I just… don't know how I'm supposed to go about it."
"I'll help you out, then," Assault said. "Got your phone with you? I'll give you my number."
"I don't have a mobile phone," I admitted.
"…oh." He thought for a few seconds. "I could visit you tomorrow at home, after school, if you're okay with that, and then we can talk about it then?"
I shrank in on myself. "I'd rather not."
"Of course," Assault backtracked immediately. "I wouldn't demand you tell me your civilian identity if you don't want to. We could--"
"It's not that," I said, cutting him off. "I uh… haven't told my father yet. That I have powers."
"Oh," Assault said once again. "You'll have to tell him at some point, though, because he'll need to sign off on it if you want to join the Wards. Well, unless he's part of the problem. Is he?"
I shook my head vehemently. "He tries his best!" I defended him. "It's just… well, things have been difficult since mom died a few years back."
"I'm sorry," Assault said, sounding like he genuinely was. "What if I swung by tomorrow, then helped you tell him? Again, if you're fine with telling me your civilian identity. You can become a Ward without ever telling us anything about your civilian identity, we even have ways to confirm that your guardian signed off on it without actually knowing who he is."
"No, that's fine," I said, feeling immensely thankful that Assault was taking this much time to speak to me and assuage my fears and worries. I gave him my home address and civilian name, as well as my dad's name and job. I also warned him that dad had a tendency to work late, but Assault said that worst case, he'd just call him after arriving at our home.
"Well, I'm glad I got to talk to you, bug girl. I think you should go home and get some rest now, it's been a late and eventful evening after all, and there's more ahead of us. I'll also see if I can think of a good cape name for you. And maybe we can talk about that tomorrow."
"Bye," I replied as I stood up and made for home. "And thanks. For talking to me."
"Any day, kid."
Dad had been a bit worried when a superhero suddenly showed up on the doorstep, but Assault had calmed him down immediately and then brought up the relevant points with more tact than I'd have expected from a guy known as a jokester – in fact, I hadn't seen him joke that much in general, though he showed more tendencies in that direction when visiting at home than he did on our first meeting.
Of course, there was no way to say 'I fought Lung' without dad freaking out a little, but Assault managed to smooth that over better than I'd ever have been able to.
So now I was at the PRT building, about to be introduced as the new Ward Weaver. There'd be changes to my costume on behalf of PR, but it would take a while to actually finish that, as the spider silk from my black widows was a stronger material than anything that was available for a Ward from the PRT, and people agreed I shouldn't handicap myself just because it took a few weeks more. Until then, it would be made clear that my current costume was temporary, and the PR department was actually going to spin it as the new Ward being very eager to use her powers to create high quality materials, which showed how dedicated she was to get started.
Which, again, was a smoother way to handle things than I'd ever been able to. The entire 'I didn't realize how it'd look' was masterfully pushed to the background as a silly and inconsequential rookie mistake. When PR explained things to me, it sounded almost like they were creating a fictional character for me to play – though keeping as close to who I was as possible – and the character was portrayed as overexcited, rather than someone who didn't think things through.
"Weaver, are you okay with revealing your civilian identity to us?" Aegis asked. "Of course, that also means all of us will show you our civilian identities, and in fact we'll reveal ourselves first, with you going last. If you don't want to, that's fine too. You can also unmask to us one by one over the coming weeks if you prefer that."
"It's fine," I replied. They were new people, and they wouldn't be prejudiced against me from Winslow – everyone knew almost all Wards went to Arcadia. Even if one of them would go to Winslow, then I was sure they'd wait and see, and quickly learn that everything Emma always said about me was lies. That was what heroes did, right? Give people a second chance, allow themselves to be proven wrong. And besides, Assault was here as well – he'd said he wanted to make sure I'd be settling in alright.
Aegis unmasked first, revealing his civilian name was Carlos. Next was Clockblocker, then Gallant. One by one, they revealed their faces. The last one, who so far hadn't spoken at all, was Shadow Stalker.
"My name—" she started, but I didn't hear the rest of it when I recognized her face, my blood turning to ice, nothing but a buzzing in my ears – and not one caused by my swarm.
I stood there frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity as a maelstrom of thoughts went through my head, too fast, too many to count.
It was probably not all that long, as no one had yet tried to talk to me when I took two big steps forward, punched Sophia in her face, then fled into the corridor.
I had to get out, I knew, incredulity making way for panic. Not only did Sophia have the PRT's protection – that was why they always got away with everything! – I'd also attacked her. I'd attacked a Ward. There was no way they would ever let me in now. In fact, I'd probably be a wanted person. And, I realized, they knew where I lived, or at least Assault did. I had to leave, I wouldn't be able to stay home, and dad—
I heard footsteps behind me and glanced back to find Assault chasing me. I pushed harder, running as fast as I could, yet he easily caught up to me and grabbed my shoulder.
I struggled, trying to get free, hitting him wherever I could, but there was no way I could physically match him. I considered bringing out a swarm when I realized he was talking to me.
In fact, I realized, he didn't sound angry.
I stopped struggling.
"Finally," he breathed. "Listen, Weaver, I don't know what just happened, but we're going to have to talk about it. I'm sure you had a reason for what you did, the only question is whether it was a good reason."
I froze up. There was no way they would… I tried to get free again.
"Calm down!" Assault barked in a harsher voice than I'd heard from him before. Even still, it felt like an order from a superior, not a demand from an enemy, and I obeyed immediately. "Weaver," he continued more gently, "even if you immediately earn an infraction on your record – which is not a certainty at this point, to clarify – it won't be the end of your time with the Wards. In fact, I can tell you that most of the Wards have at least one infraction. Come, we'll find ourselves a place to sit and we'll talk about it."
He kept his hand on my shoulder, as if to stop me from running off, and though I walked along with him, I carefully gathered a swarm, in case I suddenly needed to escape. I did keep them hidden completely in the walls, however – no need to make Assault distrust me even more.
He led me into what seemed to be a meeting room and sat down at the head of the rectangular table, inviting me to sit in the next seat over.
"I'm assuming you know Sophia Hess?" Assault asked calmly.
I glared at him. Did he know? All the crap she pulled? That she'd been making my life hell for almost two years now? That she turned my best friend against me?
"You could say so," I finally ground out in a mixture of loathing and hate.
Assault had the decency to wince.
I wondered whether he expected me to say anything more, but then he spoke up again. "Please give me a moment to think about how to approach this conversation."
That… did not fill me with confidence. I tensed up slightly, mentally checking on the bugs available that could pour into this room at a moment's notice.
Finally, Assault started talking again.
"I'd love to tell myself otherwise, but the truth is, I can absolutely believe that you've had bad experiences with Sophia. But if we want to address it, and whether or not your reaction was justified, I'm going to need to know what they are."
"You don't know?" I asked, unsure if I could believe him on that.
He put his head in his hands. "This is bad, isn't it?" he sighed. "No, I do not know. While I am familiar with some incidents in Sophia's past, those have all been resolved by the PRT. Whatever is going on here does not sound like it's been resolved."
"That doesn't tell me anything." Was the PRT involved with the locker incident? I didn't know. They could have been, behind the scenes.
"If you've never talked to the PRT before, then I'm not aware of what's going on here."
I hadn't. To my knowledge, at least. It wasn't a certainty, but perhaps I had to take a small leap of faith here. Assault had helped me out a ton, after all.
"She's made my life hell," I spat out. "For almost two years now. Bullying me every single day. She and that backstabbing cunt Emma and that dumb hanger-on Madison."
Assault stilled. "Oh, crap." He held up his hand to stop my oncoming rant. "You don't need to answer if you don't want to, but I have to ask. Is Sophia responsible for your trigger event?"
I drew in a shuddered breath. Fuck, this was not the moment to panic about that. I calmed myself, then nodded.
Assault cursed. "I'm going to have to make a quick call," he said. However, he remained sitting as he fished his phone out of his costume, and allowed me to overhear his side of the conversation.
"Yes, I'm investigating," were the first words he said. "That's what I'm calling you about."
Silence as the person on the other side of the line spoke.
"I need you to detain Shadow Stalker."
I could hear the surprised exclamation on the other side, presumably followed by a request for clarification.
"Reasonable suspicion of bullying severe enough to cause a trigger event," Assault responded. Again, the person on the other side spoke, then Assault replied one last time. "Thank you, I have to get back to Weaver."
"That's really happening?" I asked in disbelief.
"Do you remember what I told you that first night?" Assault asked. "Every parahuman has had a trigger event. Every parahuman has gone through something terrible. Knowing what you've gone through yourself, would you joke about someone else's trigger event? Would you ever go 'oh, it can't have been that bad'?" He didn't wait for my answer. "No. No parahuman ever would. Not even the worst villains."
I scoffed. "I bet she would. At least for me." It was a knee-jerk reaction, but when I thought about it, I definitely believed it true.
Assault winced. "That bad? No, don't answer. I believe you." He sighed and visibly gathered himself.
"If we want to get anywhere with this, I'm going to have to ask you a few questions, some of which may be uncomfortable – feel free to tell me you're not willing to talk about something. And before we get started on that, I want to clarify that with the way it's looking right now, I would be very surprised if your reaction at the unmasking got you an infraction. In fact, if everything you've told me so far is the whole truth, without omissions, there is no way Sophia will remain as a Ward. And whatever else happens, you certainly won't have to deal with her while the investigation is ongoing."
The first question was the hardest, as Assault asked me about my trigger event and everything around it. The hospital stay. The bullying; both the school's reaction to it, and how long it had been going on. Mr Barnes threatening lawsuits. The settlement over the hospital costs. The lack of involvement from the PRT and police at any point. In every single one of those areas, Assault saw inconsistencies. Things that didn't line up.
And, blessedly, he believed me. He trusted me, and didn't blame the inconsistencies on me making things up. And by the time we were done talking, he was shaking with anger. "I think at least five people across three different organizations will be losing their jobs over this clusterfuck," he seethed.
He calmed himself and scribbled a few more things on his notepad. "I should have everything important written down. At the bottom are my phone number, Armsmaster's phone number, Battery's phone number and Director Piggot's phone number. Right now, we're going back to the Wards room, where all Wards except Shadow Stalker are still waiting. I'll give them a brief explanation of everything that's going on. Then, I'm taking you with me as I copy all the notes I made here, and you can take the copy home as evidence that you talked to me. If, for some reason, you feel like you're being stonewalled, feel free to call any of the phone numbers I wrote down. Or the media, for that matter."
Part of me wanted to thank him once again for listening to me, but I'd already done so several times during our conversation, so I held back as we stood and made our way back to the Wards common room.
"Is Shadow Stalker not with you?" Aegis asked when we entered and the door closed behind us again.
Assault responded before I even had the time to parse the statement. "No. We haven't spoken to her at all."
"I thought Armsmaster came to fetch her so you could talk things out," Aegis said.
"I can see why you might think that, but no," Assault said. "Shadow Stalker is currently in detainment based on what I learned while talking to Weaver. In fact, I doubt she will ever return as a Ward."
"Why?" Vista asked. "I mean, I can't say I'm sad to hear that, but…"
Assault glanced at me before turning back to the Wards. "What I'm about to tell you will stay in this room. Got that?" He got a nod from each of them in turn. "Weaver says Shadow Stalker, in her civilian identity, caused her trigger event. I believe her."
Several of the Wards gasped in shock.
"I wish I could say I was surprised," Vista said acidly. Huh, she really didn't like Sophia, did she? Well, points in her favor as far as I was concerned.
"There will likely be a rather big investigation," Assault continued. "There are several instances where things should have come to light, some of them more than a year ago already, as far back as Shadow Stalker first joining the Wards. Expect to be questioned on what you knew of and about her at some point."
"What happens now?" Kid Win asked.
Assault turned to me. "Do you want to finish the unmasking, or would you prefer to wait?"
I hesitated, but realized that I'd already seen the faces and learned the names of the other Wards, and I'd never met any of them.
I nodded. "We can do it now." I took off my helmet. "My name is Taylor Hebert."
Vista smiled. "Nice to finally have a girl on the team who isn't a complete bitch."
"Uh… thanks?" I stammered.
"So, what's with the costume?" Clockblocker asked, distracting me from the awkward silence that was about to form. "Were you planning to go villain at first? I mean, not that I can blame you if Shadow Stalker is your experience with the heroes…"
I blushed, but told him the same thing I'd previously told Assault, and we got into a rather more amicable conversation from that point onward, until Assault dragged me along to get the copy of his notes.
"What did you want to see me for?" I asked as I entered the meeting room where Assault was already seated. It'd been a month since my induction into the Wards, and to my surprise I actually got along well with almost everyone. And the biggest exception – Armsmaster – was more because he didn't have time for pleasantries than anything else. I wasn't worried he was going to screw me over, or anything.
"They've concluded the investigation into the Shadow Stalker situation," Assault said as I sat down across from him.
"And?" I asked hesitantly. She hadn't been at Winslow anymore, and Emma and Madison had both stayed away from me – as had their hanger-ons – which was a big improvement, but I didn't dare hope.
"Long story short, they haven't found anything to make them doubt your story, and they've found quite a few things backing it up. Yesterday, the PRT contacted the state about prosecution, which is only a formality at this point. The actual court case is not going to be a simple formality, of course, but all three of Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes and Madison Clements are likely looking at juvie until they turn eighteen, and potential restrictions after. Emma or Madison may be able to get out of that if they go for a plea deal, which would mean they'd have to back the investigation and, basically, rat the others out and testify on your behalf. Sophia does not have that option because she was already on probation as a Ward, and has broken that probation many times over."
"So… it's actually happening?"
"Yes, it is," Assault said. "And you might be interested in the other findings as well. I actually wrote them out in a list, here." He gestured to a paper in front of him. "If you're curious why I'm the one telling you all this, rather than the investigating PRT officer, it's because they figured you'd appreciate having someone familiar to tell you all this. Not my idea, I'm not exactly the paperwork guy around."
"So what do you have there?" I asked.
"Ah, yes. Let's see. We're going through this in chronological order. When Sophia first joined the Wards, her bullying campaign against you had been going on for four months. The PRT employee who investigated her social situation at the time, both at home and at school, has been fined for not doing his due diligence and uncovering the bullying. He has not been fired, which frankly makes him the lucky one in this list.
"Sophia's handler, the woman who was supposed to ensure she did not break her probation, will be prosecuted for embezzlement, as it appears she and Principal Blackwell were both putting part of the PRT's allowance to Winslow in their own pockets. She has also been fired.
"Speaking of Blackwell, she will almost certainly be fired in the very near future, and is similarly to be put on trial for embezzlement. Thanks to the settlement you and your father made with the school over your hospital bills, there is also hard proof that she was aware of the bullying situation, which means she is additionally going to be prosecuted for criminal negligence across the four months that passed afterwards.
"Then, onto your trigger event and the hospital stay afterwards. Hoo boy, is that a clusterfuck."
"Why?" I asked.
"Let's see. First of all, the hospital is probably the only innocent party here. You were healed by Panacea, and based on her description of your situation, as well as what they heard from responders, they notified the PRT that someone had gone through a traumatic and potentially trigger-inducing experience." Assault grinned at me. "Are you ready for the list of people who are going to be or have been fired?"
I couldn't help but grin back, though I sobered up after a few seconds. "Weren't we going through that list already?"
"Ah, but see, this is a list inside the list," Assault said, as if he was making some grand revelation. "Let's see, first of all. The PRT actually sent someone to visit you and determine whether or not you had triggered. However, you were catatonic at the time, now suspected to be because you were still adjusting to the sense of your bugs. They left, and did not plan another visit, counter to all regulations. He's out on the street starting today.
"Second, the police got involved with the locker. The officer who should have handled your case, however, waved it away as 'just a high school prank'. While they haven't been fired, they have been fined and suspended without pay.
"Third, we're back to Blackwell and her abysmal handling of the situation. The settlement you and your father agreed to was questionable to the extreme, and you will almost certainly be seeing more money while that's being resolved properly.
"Fourth, while it's not a crime to threaten someone with financial ruin through lawsuits, the primary investigator in this situation was feeling vindictive by this point. He informed Carol Dallon, also known as Brandish, of everything that had happened, including Alan Barnes' behavior over a situation that included a trigger event. She has enough pull in the law firm they both work for that he's out on his ass and she's digging into his past to see if she can find anything to sue him with."
He glanced down at his notes. "Oh, right, before I forget, more Blackwell: she's also receiving heat over ignoring that bullying notebook you showed. After all, direct testimony is considered rather important by anyone who isn't covering up for bullies. Certainly, such a notebook should warrant an internal investigation at the very least."
He checked all his notes.
"I think that's everything, so let me summarize for you. Barring major surprises in the courtroom, we're looking at the following. Sophia Hess to juvie. Emma Barnes and Madison Clements joining her unless they rat their friends out completely. Four people fired, two more fined, suspended without pay or otherwise punished. Oh, right, and most of the people I mentioned previously are being prosecuted for failing to act on the situation in one way or another, which usually means they're being sued for damages. And that's in addition to Blackwell and the handler being prosecuted for other crimes."
He grinned at me again. "Feel like justice is being served yet?"
I nodded, a little numb from the revelations. "I can hardly believe it."
Assault gave me a genuine smile. "It's good to remember. Individual people may suck, they may try to ruin your life or care about some dollar bills more than your happiness, but that's no reason to give up on everyone. There's still justice. There's still people who'll fight for you. And as heroes, we fight for them. I'm very glad to have you on our side, Weaver. With this clusterfuck, I know I surely couldn't have blamed you if the constant failing of authorities around you had driven you into the hands of one villain or another."
"I always wanted to be a hero," I admitted. "But… yeah, I was losing faith, bit by bit. That first evening, when you found me after I'd fought Lung, I was about to talk to the Undersiders." I snorted. "Imagine Armsmaster had arrived first. That'd probably have convinced me to join them straight up. And when I found out that Sophia was a Ward… yeah, that was almost enough to make me go villain right there." I smiled back at Assault. "But I'm glad I didn't, because after that rough start, things have been great."
"Then, one last thing," Assault said. "We've spoken to Arcadia, including mentioning some of the academic sabotage you talked about, and based on that and your status as a Ward, they're willing to make an exception to their normal rules of admittance. You can transfer whenever you're ready."
I lit up at that news. Arcadia, here I come!
Today was a great day to be Taylor Hebert.
Assault on the Dragon
Summary: When a fight involving Lung is reported, Armsmaster is not the closest Protectorate responder. Instead, it's Assault.
Lung collapsed.
I couldn't believe it. On my very first night out, I'd taken down the most dangerous villain in the Bay. Sure, those other teens had helped a bit, but most of the work had been mine.
I tentatively approached the others, but paused when my bugs noticed someone approaching at high speed – faster than a car on a highway. He – I could now define his gender – slowed down as he approached us.
"Stand down!"
The four teenagers didn't seem interested in doing so, instead climbing on those lizard monsters of theirs and bounding out.
Which left me alone with an incapacitated Lung and the red-clad parahuman that I identified as Assault after a few seconds.
He looked after the lizard monsters, clearly weighing whether he should chase them or confront me, but then decided on the latter.
"What happened here?" He glanced at the downed body. "You killed Lung?"
"He's still alive," I said defensively. I had a bug on his pulse.
Assault knelt next to him to confirm it, then shackled him. "I'm going to have to call in Armsmaster," he said. "I don't know if I have the equipment required to keep Lung down if he wakes up. No sudden moves."
I waited in silence. Assault was clearly speaking over the radio, but not loud enough for me to hear what he was saying.
"Alright, he's on his way," Assault said. "Now, who are you? A new villain? I don't remember anyone who fits your description. Or are you from out of town?"
I muttered something.
"What was that?" Assault asked. It wasn't condescending, but rather it sounded like he genuinely hadn't heard what I said.
"I want to be a hero."
Assault snorted. "Bit of a misleading costume you have, then."
"I didn't realize it was going to look like this until it was already too late to change it," I admitted.
"So, who are you?" he asked, more gently now.
"I uh… I don't have a cape name yet. This was my first night out."
"You're kidding me," he said flatly. "Your first night out, and you take down Lung. Did you know that when Lung first entered this city, he fought the entire Protectorate to a stand-still? Your power has to be seriously strong. If you don't mind me asking, what can you do?"
"Bug control," I replied.
"Bug. Control. You took down Lung with bugs?" He whistled. "Color me impressed, girl. I'll admit, I probably wouldn't have believed you if I hadn't seen the results myself. I'm dying to ask more questions, but I should probably start by asking you what happened tonight."
I started talking, and Assault listened, occasionally nodding along or asking a question. He provided that the teens that had helped out were the Undersiders, a minor villain group with a penchant for escape, and halfway through the story Armsmaster arrived on his motorcycle to make sure Lung would remain properly detained. He and Assault exchanged a few words, but I didn't talk to him directly. Instead, once Armsmaster left, Assault asked me to continue my story.
Afterwards, Assault gave me a look of approval. "If you had asked me yesterday, I would've said that bug control is a useless, or perhaps marginally useful power. But you make it scarier than any other power I've come across here in the Bay."
I hung my head. "I don't want to be scary. I just want to help people."
"Do you want to join the Wards?" he asked.
"I… I don't know," I said hesitatingly.
Assault sighed and, after a brief look around, walked over to a waist-high stone wall, gesturing for me to follow along. He sat down, and after a moment I went to sit next to him.
"I'm going to make a bit of a guess," he said. "I could be completely wrong here, but you probably have bad experiences with authority figures, don't you? Maybe they didn't listen to you, maybe they took advantage of you, or something like that."
I hesitated, but nodded.
"I'm not going to ask you anything about what happened to you, so don't worry about that, but you know that triggering and getting superpowers is something that happens on what is often said to be 'the worst day of your life', right?"
I felt myself clam up just thinking of the locker, but I nodded again.
"I don't know whether these two things are related, and I won't ask," Assault said, "but I want you to realize something that's obvious once you think about it, yet very easily missed otherwise. You, me and everyone else who has superpowers, we've all gone through something terrible. We all know what it's like to have lost all hope, or to be in a life-threatening situation, to be abandoned or to have everything taken away from us.
"One way or another, every parahuman is a bit screwed up. Irrational fears, resentment, violent tendencies, control issues, you could keep going. Most people might not understand you, but most parahumans will. If you join the Wards, you get a group of friends who have all gone through something similar, people you'll spend a lot of time with, and you'll have us Protectorate members to look out for you or take care of you; we've also gone through horrible things ourselves. We know what it's like, and we know how important it is to give you the space you need."
Once more, I felt hesitant. "I… guess I should probably join," I said. "I just… don't know how I'm supposed to go about it."
"I'll help you out, then," Assault said. "Got your phone with you? I'll give you my number."
"I don't have a mobile phone," I admitted.
"…oh." He thought for a few seconds. "I could visit you tomorrow at home, after school, if you're okay with that, and then we can talk about it then?"
I shrank in on myself. "I'd rather not."
"Of course," Assault backtracked immediately. "I wouldn't demand you tell me your civilian identity if you don't want to. We could--"
"It's not that," I said, cutting him off. "I uh… haven't told my father yet. That I have powers."
"Oh," Assault said once again. "You'll have to tell him at some point, though, because he'll need to sign off on it if you want to join the Wards. Well, unless he's part of the problem. Is he?"
I shook my head vehemently. "He tries his best!" I defended him. "It's just… well, things have been difficult since mom died a few years back."
"I'm sorry," Assault said, sounding like he genuinely was. "What if I swung by tomorrow, then helped you tell him? Again, if you're fine with telling me your civilian identity. You can become a Ward without ever telling us anything about your civilian identity, we even have ways to confirm that your guardian signed off on it without actually knowing who he is."
"No, that's fine," I said, feeling immensely thankful that Assault was taking this much time to speak to me and assuage my fears and worries. I gave him my home address and civilian name, as well as my dad's name and job. I also warned him that dad had a tendency to work late, but Assault said that worst case, he'd just call him after arriving at our home.
"Well, I'm glad I got to talk to you, bug girl. I think you should go home and get some rest now, it's been a late and eventful evening after all, and there's more ahead of us. I'll also see if I can think of a good cape name for you. And maybe we can talk about that tomorrow."
"Bye," I replied as I stood up and made for home. "And thanks. For talking to me."
"Any day, kid."
Dad had been a bit worried when a superhero suddenly showed up on the doorstep, but Assault had calmed him down immediately and then brought up the relevant points with more tact than I'd have expected from a guy known as a jokester – in fact, I hadn't seen him joke that much in general, though he showed more tendencies in that direction when visiting at home than he did on our first meeting.
Of course, there was no way to say 'I fought Lung' without dad freaking out a little, but Assault managed to smooth that over better than I'd ever have been able to.
So now I was at the PRT building, about to be introduced as the new Ward Weaver. There'd be changes to my costume on behalf of PR, but it would take a while to actually finish that, as the spider silk from my black widows was a stronger material than anything that was available for a Ward from the PRT, and people agreed I shouldn't handicap myself just because it took a few weeks more. Until then, it would be made clear that my current costume was temporary, and the PR department was actually going to spin it as the new Ward being very eager to use her powers to create high quality materials, which showed how dedicated she was to get started.
Which, again, was a smoother way to handle things than I'd ever been able to. The entire 'I didn't realize how it'd look' was masterfully pushed to the background as a silly and inconsequential rookie mistake. When PR explained things to me, it sounded almost like they were creating a fictional character for me to play – though keeping as close to who I was as possible – and the character was portrayed as overexcited, rather than someone who didn't think things through.
"Weaver, are you okay with revealing your civilian identity to us?" Aegis asked. "Of course, that also means all of us will show you our civilian identities, and in fact we'll reveal ourselves first, with you going last. If you don't want to, that's fine too. You can also unmask to us one by one over the coming weeks if you prefer that."
"It's fine," I replied. They were new people, and they wouldn't be prejudiced against me from Winslow – everyone knew almost all Wards went to Arcadia. Even if one of them would go to Winslow, then I was sure they'd wait and see, and quickly learn that everything Emma always said about me was lies. That was what heroes did, right? Give people a second chance, allow themselves to be proven wrong. And besides, Assault was here as well – he'd said he wanted to make sure I'd be settling in alright.
Aegis unmasked first, revealing his civilian name was Carlos. Next was Clockblocker, then Gallant. One by one, they revealed their faces. The last one, who so far hadn't spoken at all, was Shadow Stalker.
"My name—" she started, but I didn't hear the rest of it when I recognized her face, my blood turning to ice, nothing but a buzzing in my ears – and not one caused by my swarm.
I stood there frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity as a maelstrom of thoughts went through my head, too fast, too many to count.
It was probably not all that long, as no one had yet tried to talk to me when I took two big steps forward, punched Sophia in her face, then fled into the corridor.
I had to get out, I knew, incredulity making way for panic. Not only did Sophia have the PRT's protection – that was why they always got away with everything! – I'd also attacked her. I'd attacked a Ward. There was no way they would ever let me in now. In fact, I'd probably be a wanted person. And, I realized, they knew where I lived, or at least Assault did. I had to leave, I wouldn't be able to stay home, and dad—
I heard footsteps behind me and glanced back to find Assault chasing me. I pushed harder, running as fast as I could, yet he easily caught up to me and grabbed my shoulder.
I struggled, trying to get free, hitting him wherever I could, but there was no way I could physically match him. I considered bringing out a swarm when I realized he was talking to me.
In fact, I realized, he didn't sound angry.
I stopped struggling.
"Finally," he breathed. "Listen, Weaver, I don't know what just happened, but we're going to have to talk about it. I'm sure you had a reason for what you did, the only question is whether it was a good reason."
I froze up. There was no way they would… I tried to get free again.
"Calm down!" Assault barked in a harsher voice than I'd heard from him before. Even still, it felt like an order from a superior, not a demand from an enemy, and I obeyed immediately. "Weaver," he continued more gently, "even if you immediately earn an infraction on your record – which is not a certainty at this point, to clarify – it won't be the end of your time with the Wards. In fact, I can tell you that most of the Wards have at least one infraction. Come, we'll find ourselves a place to sit and we'll talk about it."
He kept his hand on my shoulder, as if to stop me from running off, and though I walked along with him, I carefully gathered a swarm, in case I suddenly needed to escape. I did keep them hidden completely in the walls, however – no need to make Assault distrust me even more.
He led me into what seemed to be a meeting room and sat down at the head of the rectangular table, inviting me to sit in the next seat over.
"I'm assuming you know Sophia Hess?" Assault asked calmly.
I glared at him. Did he know? All the crap she pulled? That she'd been making my life hell for almost two years now? That she turned my best friend against me?
"You could say so," I finally ground out in a mixture of loathing and hate.
Assault had the decency to wince.
I wondered whether he expected me to say anything more, but then he spoke up again. "Please give me a moment to think about how to approach this conversation."
That… did not fill me with confidence. I tensed up slightly, mentally checking on the bugs available that could pour into this room at a moment's notice.
Finally, Assault started talking again.
"I'd love to tell myself otherwise, but the truth is, I can absolutely believe that you've had bad experiences with Sophia. But if we want to address it, and whether or not your reaction was justified, I'm going to need to know what they are."
"You don't know?" I asked, unsure if I could believe him on that.
He put his head in his hands. "This is bad, isn't it?" he sighed. "No, I do not know. While I am familiar with some incidents in Sophia's past, those have all been resolved by the PRT. Whatever is going on here does not sound like it's been resolved."
"That doesn't tell me anything." Was the PRT involved with the locker incident? I didn't know. They could have been, behind the scenes.
"If you've never talked to the PRT before, then I'm not aware of what's going on here."
I hadn't. To my knowledge, at least. It wasn't a certainty, but perhaps I had to take a small leap of faith here. Assault had helped me out a ton, after all.
"She's made my life hell," I spat out. "For almost two years now. Bullying me every single day. She and that backstabbing cunt Emma and that dumb hanger-on Madison."
Assault stilled. "Oh, crap." He held up his hand to stop my oncoming rant. "You don't need to answer if you don't want to, but I have to ask. Is Sophia responsible for your trigger event?"
I drew in a shuddered breath. Fuck, this was not the moment to panic about that. I calmed myself, then nodded.
Assault cursed. "I'm going to have to make a quick call," he said. However, he remained sitting as he fished his phone out of his costume, and allowed me to overhear his side of the conversation.
"Yes, I'm investigating," were the first words he said. "That's what I'm calling you about."
Silence as the person on the other side of the line spoke.
"I need you to detain Shadow Stalker."
I could hear the surprised exclamation on the other side, presumably followed by a request for clarification.
"Reasonable suspicion of bullying severe enough to cause a trigger event," Assault responded. Again, the person on the other side spoke, then Assault replied one last time. "Thank you, I have to get back to Weaver."
"That's really happening?" I asked in disbelief.
"Do you remember what I told you that first night?" Assault asked. "Every parahuman has had a trigger event. Every parahuman has gone through something terrible. Knowing what you've gone through yourself, would you joke about someone else's trigger event? Would you ever go 'oh, it can't have been that bad'?" He didn't wait for my answer. "No. No parahuman ever would. Not even the worst villains."
I scoffed. "I bet she would. At least for me." It was a knee-jerk reaction, but when I thought about it, I definitely believed it true.
Assault winced. "That bad? No, don't answer. I believe you." He sighed and visibly gathered himself.
"If we want to get anywhere with this, I'm going to have to ask you a few questions, some of which may be uncomfortable – feel free to tell me you're not willing to talk about something. And before we get started on that, I want to clarify that with the way it's looking right now, I would be very surprised if your reaction at the unmasking got you an infraction. In fact, if everything you've told me so far is the whole truth, without omissions, there is no way Sophia will remain as a Ward. And whatever else happens, you certainly won't have to deal with her while the investigation is ongoing."
The first question was the hardest, as Assault asked me about my trigger event and everything around it. The hospital stay. The bullying; both the school's reaction to it, and how long it had been going on. Mr Barnes threatening lawsuits. The settlement over the hospital costs. The lack of involvement from the PRT and police at any point. In every single one of those areas, Assault saw inconsistencies. Things that didn't line up.
And, blessedly, he believed me. He trusted me, and didn't blame the inconsistencies on me making things up. And by the time we were done talking, he was shaking with anger. "I think at least five people across three different organizations will be losing their jobs over this clusterfuck," he seethed.
He calmed himself and scribbled a few more things on his notepad. "I should have everything important written down. At the bottom are my phone number, Armsmaster's phone number, Battery's phone number and Director Piggot's phone number. Right now, we're going back to the Wards room, where all Wards except Shadow Stalker are still waiting. I'll give them a brief explanation of everything that's going on. Then, I'm taking you with me as I copy all the notes I made here, and you can take the copy home as evidence that you talked to me. If, for some reason, you feel like you're being stonewalled, feel free to call any of the phone numbers I wrote down. Or the media, for that matter."
Part of me wanted to thank him once again for listening to me, but I'd already done so several times during our conversation, so I held back as we stood and made our way back to the Wards common room.
"Is Shadow Stalker not with you?" Aegis asked when we entered and the door closed behind us again.
Assault responded before I even had the time to parse the statement. "No. We haven't spoken to her at all."
"I thought Armsmaster came to fetch her so you could talk things out," Aegis said.
"I can see why you might think that, but no," Assault said. "Shadow Stalker is currently in detainment based on what I learned while talking to Weaver. In fact, I doubt she will ever return as a Ward."
"Why?" Vista asked. "I mean, I can't say I'm sad to hear that, but…"
Assault glanced at me before turning back to the Wards. "What I'm about to tell you will stay in this room. Got that?" He got a nod from each of them in turn. "Weaver says Shadow Stalker, in her civilian identity, caused her trigger event. I believe her."
Several of the Wards gasped in shock.
"I wish I could say I was surprised," Vista said acidly. Huh, she really didn't like Sophia, did she? Well, points in her favor as far as I was concerned.
"There will likely be a rather big investigation," Assault continued. "There are several instances where things should have come to light, some of them more than a year ago already, as far back as Shadow Stalker first joining the Wards. Expect to be questioned on what you knew of and about her at some point."
"What happens now?" Kid Win asked.
Assault turned to me. "Do you want to finish the unmasking, or would you prefer to wait?"
I hesitated, but realized that I'd already seen the faces and learned the names of the other Wards, and I'd never met any of them.
I nodded. "We can do it now." I took off my helmet. "My name is Taylor Hebert."
Vista smiled. "Nice to finally have a girl on the team who isn't a complete bitch."
"Uh… thanks?" I stammered.
"So, what's with the costume?" Clockblocker asked, distracting me from the awkward silence that was about to form. "Were you planning to go villain at first? I mean, not that I can blame you if Shadow Stalker is your experience with the heroes…"
I blushed, but told him the same thing I'd previously told Assault, and we got into a rather more amicable conversation from that point onward, until Assault dragged me along to get the copy of his notes.
"What did you want to see me for?" I asked as I entered the meeting room where Assault was already seated. It'd been a month since my induction into the Wards, and to my surprise I actually got along well with almost everyone. And the biggest exception – Armsmaster – was more because he didn't have time for pleasantries than anything else. I wasn't worried he was going to screw me over, or anything.
"They've concluded the investigation into the Shadow Stalker situation," Assault said as I sat down across from him.
"And?" I asked hesitantly. She hadn't been at Winslow anymore, and Emma and Madison had both stayed away from me – as had their hanger-ons – which was a big improvement, but I didn't dare hope.
"Long story short, they haven't found anything to make them doubt your story, and they've found quite a few things backing it up. Yesterday, the PRT contacted the state about prosecution, which is only a formality at this point. The actual court case is not going to be a simple formality, of course, but all three of Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes and Madison Clements are likely looking at juvie until they turn eighteen, and potential restrictions after. Emma or Madison may be able to get out of that if they go for a plea deal, which would mean they'd have to back the investigation and, basically, rat the others out and testify on your behalf. Sophia does not have that option because she was already on probation as a Ward, and has broken that probation many times over."
"So… it's actually happening?"
"Yes, it is," Assault said. "And you might be interested in the other findings as well. I actually wrote them out in a list, here." He gestured to a paper in front of him. "If you're curious why I'm the one telling you all this, rather than the investigating PRT officer, it's because they figured you'd appreciate having someone familiar to tell you all this. Not my idea, I'm not exactly the paperwork guy around."
"So what do you have there?" I asked.
"Ah, yes. Let's see. We're going through this in chronological order. When Sophia first joined the Wards, her bullying campaign against you had been going on for four months. The PRT employee who investigated her social situation at the time, both at home and at school, has been fined for not doing his due diligence and uncovering the bullying. He has not been fired, which frankly makes him the lucky one in this list.
"Sophia's handler, the woman who was supposed to ensure she did not break her probation, will be prosecuted for embezzlement, as it appears she and Principal Blackwell were both putting part of the PRT's allowance to Winslow in their own pockets. She has also been fired.
"Speaking of Blackwell, she will almost certainly be fired in the very near future, and is similarly to be put on trial for embezzlement. Thanks to the settlement you and your father made with the school over your hospital bills, there is also hard proof that she was aware of the bullying situation, which means she is additionally going to be prosecuted for criminal negligence across the four months that passed afterwards.
"Then, onto your trigger event and the hospital stay afterwards. Hoo boy, is that a clusterfuck."
"Why?" I asked.
"Let's see. First of all, the hospital is probably the only innocent party here. You were healed by Panacea, and based on her description of your situation, as well as what they heard from responders, they notified the PRT that someone had gone through a traumatic and potentially trigger-inducing experience." Assault grinned at me. "Are you ready for the list of people who are going to be or have been fired?"
I couldn't help but grin back, though I sobered up after a few seconds. "Weren't we going through that list already?"
"Ah, but see, this is a list inside the list," Assault said, as if he was making some grand revelation. "Let's see, first of all. The PRT actually sent someone to visit you and determine whether or not you had triggered. However, you were catatonic at the time, now suspected to be because you were still adjusting to the sense of your bugs. They left, and did not plan another visit, counter to all regulations. He's out on the street starting today.
"Second, the police got involved with the locker. The officer who should have handled your case, however, waved it away as 'just a high school prank'. While they haven't been fired, they have been fined and suspended without pay.
"Third, we're back to Blackwell and her abysmal handling of the situation. The settlement you and your father agreed to was questionable to the extreme, and you will almost certainly be seeing more money while that's being resolved properly.
"Fourth, while it's not a crime to threaten someone with financial ruin through lawsuits, the primary investigator in this situation was feeling vindictive by this point. He informed Carol Dallon, also known as Brandish, of everything that had happened, including Alan Barnes' behavior over a situation that included a trigger event. She has enough pull in the law firm they both work for that he's out on his ass and she's digging into his past to see if she can find anything to sue him with."
He glanced down at his notes. "Oh, right, before I forget, more Blackwell: she's also receiving heat over ignoring that bullying notebook you showed. After all, direct testimony is considered rather important by anyone who isn't covering up for bullies. Certainly, such a notebook should warrant an internal investigation at the very least."
He checked all his notes.
"I think that's everything, so let me summarize for you. Barring major surprises in the courtroom, we're looking at the following. Sophia Hess to juvie. Emma Barnes and Madison Clements joining her unless they rat their friends out completely. Four people fired, two more fined, suspended without pay or otherwise punished. Oh, right, and most of the people I mentioned previously are being prosecuted for failing to act on the situation in one way or another, which usually means they're being sued for damages. And that's in addition to Blackwell and the handler being prosecuted for other crimes."
He grinned at me again. "Feel like justice is being served yet?"
I nodded, a little numb from the revelations. "I can hardly believe it."
Assault gave me a genuine smile. "It's good to remember. Individual people may suck, they may try to ruin your life or care about some dollar bills more than your happiness, but that's no reason to give up on everyone. There's still justice. There's still people who'll fight for you. And as heroes, we fight for them. I'm very glad to have you on our side, Weaver. With this clusterfuck, I know I surely couldn't have blamed you if the constant failing of authorities around you had driven you into the hands of one villain or another."
"I always wanted to be a hero," I admitted. "But… yeah, I was losing faith, bit by bit. That first evening, when you found me after I'd fought Lung, I was about to talk to the Undersiders." I snorted. "Imagine Armsmaster had arrived first. That'd probably have convinced me to join them straight up. And when I found out that Sophia was a Ward… yeah, that was almost enough to make me go villain right there." I smiled back at Assault. "But I'm glad I didn't, because after that rough start, things have been great."
"Then, one last thing," Assault said. "We've spoken to Arcadia, including mentioning some of the academic sabotage you talked about, and based on that and your status as a Ward, they're willing to make an exception to their normal rules of admittance. You can transfer whenever you're ready."
I lit up at that news. Arcadia, here I come!
Today was a great day to be Taylor Hebert.
Cupid vs Trauma
AN: New oneshot time! This idea has been bouncing through my head for months now, and I decided to put something on paper. I expect that this will turn into a series of semi-connected oneshots, by which I mean they'll all be about the titular character, but I won't go to great length to make them all consistent with one another - the goal is to explore the consequences of our protagonist's differing views compared to canon.
Summary: When Emma is in shock after an attempted mugging, the heroine that saved her falls back on her general life philosophy in order to help her out.
Emma was more scared than she could ever remember being.
She tried to cower behind her father, but he was not much better off as the ABB goons closed in around them. Menacing, knives drawn.
Shit, shit, fuck, what were they—oh god, no, don't think of that.
The small part of Emma that managed to remain rational prayed to anyone willing to listen for help, but she was sure none would come in time.
The gangsters roughly grabbed Emma and pulled her forward, then down to her knees.
What were they—oh god, they wanted to… what? No, no—
Emma froze in panic.
A bright blur of color drew her attention.
She looked in that direction – up on the roof, just over there.
A strange snap sounded, followed immediately by a choking sound from one of the gangsters.
Another snap, and a second gangster keeled over. The rest let Emma go, distracted by whatever was happening.
A cape – it had to be a cape – in an offensively pink outfit dropped down between them and took down two more goons with some impressive acrobatics. The last managed to get a strike in, only for the cape to turn into a fine, pink mist, and his knife went through her without causing harm. Two seconds later, a haymaker had taken him down, too.
Emma collapsed to the side, a multitude of emotions coursing through her at once – relief, panic, fear, and really that was just scratching the surface. She closed in on herself by instinct, her arms around her knees, her face hidden between them, and as she leaned against the car tears started to flow.
"Hey, hey." Emma flinched away from the arm around her shoulders only to relax once she realized it was the cape that had saved her. "Are you okay?" The girl's voice wasn't suited for kindness, which made the empathy she managed to put into her tone all the more impressive.
Not that Emma caught any of that. All she managed was to cry and weakly shake her head.
"Come on," the cape said, sitting down and pulling Emma into an embrace with Emma's head in her chest. "Here, don't worry, everything's going to be alright. Did they hurt you?"
Emma shook her head.
"Just take your time," she said soothingly. "They won't hurt you, I'll tie them up, call the police, and they'll go to jail."
Emma heard the words, but found herself unable to react. They sat there for maybe half a minute, then the cape spoke up again, this time talking to Dad.
"Mister? Perhaps you and your daughter can comfort each other for a moment? I need a few minutes to tie these people up and get the cops involved."
Emma whined in protest when those comforting arms left her, however they were immediately replaced by a set of more familiar arms – her father. Together, they cried out their whirlwind of emotions while the cape secured the gangers and made a phone call.
Then, she returned to them.
"How are you doing? Can you drive, mister?"
"Y-yeah, I think I can," Dad said uncertainly.
"And you?" Emma realized the cape was asking her. "Are you okay?"
Emma didn't know.
After a moment, she shook her head.
"You know what," the cape said, "give me a moment to make another phone call, then I'll come and stay with you for a bit, how's that? That way you know you're safe."
"Yes—yes please, if that's alright with you," Dad said.
"It's no problem," the cape said. "I just need to make sure the PRT knows why I won't be there for my scheduled patrol."
Alan was still shaking slightly when he parked the car in their driveway. The cape – a Ward, if Alan was not mistaken – had proposed that she'd sit in the back together with Emma so she could keep comforting Alan's daughter, which was probably a good idea. Alan knew he was severely shaken, but Emma hadn't said a word since the mugging started, and it was getting concerning.
The cape darted out of her seat and around the car before Alan had even gotten out himself and she was now helping Emma get out.
"I'm sorry," he said as he looked over at the cape, "but I don't actually know your name. I don't exactly keep up with the cape scene."
"No problem at all," she said as she pulled the still near-catatonic Emma out of her chair. "I'm Cupid, I joined the Brockton Bay Wards a few months ago."
"Don't the Wards normally patrol in pairs?" Alan asked. It had always seemed like a reasonable precaution to him considering they were only kids.
"Normally, yes," Cupid said. "I'm uh… not the greatest at moderating, though." She chuckled. "So I tend to do some rounds before and after my actual patrol as well. It's not exactly allowed, but so long as I don't get injured and don't use excessive violence they look the other way. Come, Emma, let's get you inside, nice in your own home, hm?"
She and Emma followed Alan inside and to the living room, where Cupid sat Emma down on a couch.
"Well, I'm glad you were there for us," Alan said. "I don't want to think about… about what might have happened otherwise."
"It's no problem," Cupid said.
The door to the stairs opened and Zoe entered only to freeze at the scene before her.
Over the next fifteen minutes, with a lot of help from Cupid, Alan told her what had happened, and he was more thankful than he'd ever admit that she sat down with him and held him in an embrace.
"And you, Emma?" Zoe asked, turning to their daughter. "Are you okay? I don't remember you saying anything."
Emma opened her mouth, but couldn't force the words out. Again, tears started flowing even as Cupid comforted her again.
Alan reluctantly let Zoe go to sit with Emma instead, leaving him alone.
"I'm worried about her," Cupid said. "Hey, Emma, everything is alright, okay?" She and Zoe continued to try and coax more of a reaction out of the girl, to little success.
After a few minutes, Cupid made a proposal that surprised Alan.
"Shall I unmask?" she suggested. "It's better to look at a face than a mask, isn't it, Emma?"
The girl didn't react.
"Are you sure about that?" Alan asked.
"I trust none of you would out me," Cupid said. She took off her mask – as pink as the rest of her outfit – and revealed her surprisingly youthful black face. She probably wasn't any older than Emma herself, Alan realized.
"I'm Sophia," she introduced herself. "Sophia Hess."
Emma glanced up at her and nodded.
"Nice to meet you, Emma. I wish it'd been in a better situation."
It helped, Alan observed over the next half hour. Emma was responding a little more, reacting to what they said and indicating things, but despite a few more attempts, she just didn't manage to say anything.
In Alan's head, nightmares had started to roam that his daughter might forever be mute, partially locked in a state of shock from trauma.
"She needs a friend," Sophia suddenly said. "I can do whatever I want, but at the end of the day, I'm still a stranger. Do you have the phone number of her best friend? Or a good friend, at least?"
Alan and Zoe shared a glance.
"Well, there's Taylor," Zoe said. "But she's at summer camp."
"Anyone else?" Sophia asked.
"No one she's even nearly as close with as Taylor," Alan said.
Sophia scratched her chin. "You think Taylor would come back from camp for this?"
"Absolutely," Zoe said immediately.
"Then that's what we'll do," Sophia said.
"Taylor! Taylor Hebert! Is Taylor Hebert here?" a counselor called.
"That's me," Taylor said, looking up. "What's going on?"
"We've got someone on the phone asking to speak to you," he said. "Said it's urgent."
Curious, Taylor followed him to the landline.
"Taylor Hebert speaking."
"Hello, Taylor. This is Cupid speaking, Brockton Bay Ward."
Taylor frowned, several thoughts going through her head. Was this a prank call? Why would a Ward be calling her? Or had Emma set up a joke?
She went with a combination of the questions.
"Did Emma set this up as a prank call?" she asked. While she loved Emma dearly, she thought this was in bad taste.
"I'm calling about Emma, but I'm afraid it's nothing as light-hearted as a prank," the girl on the other side said.
Now Taylor felt herself getting worried. She didn't think Emma or someone recruited by Emma would go that far, in particular if she called them out on it.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Earlier this afternoon, I saved Emma and her father from a mugging," Cupid said, and Taylor felt dread settling in.
"Are they okay?" she asked urgently.
"They're physically okay," Cupid placated, and Taylor's heart leapt momentarily only to be stabbed mid-air by the next thing Cupid said. "However, Emma is in shock. She's… almost completely unresponsive, only making the most basic gestures, and she hasn't said a word since."
Taylor gasped. "Emma! I… I have to come see her! I can't… I can't…" Visions of her mother's funeral came to mind as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She couldn't lose her best friend. Not so soon after she'd lost her mother and – in a way – her father. She almost missed what Cupid said next.
"That's exactly what I was thinking. If there's one thing Emma needs right now, it's a friend. Her parents mentioned you, so I decided to call. Could you talk to the counselors and give your dad a call, and get here as soon as possible?"
"Of course!" Taylor exclaimed. "I'm coming as quickly as I can!"
Her eyes were watery with tears, but after she hung up the phone she immediately set out to talk to the counselors. Going to summer camp had been a mistake in the first place – she already hadn't really wanted to go, and this just showed why.
It was already getting late when they arrived back in Brockton Bay, but Taylor had been insistent to visit Emma that same day, and Danny didn't put up any real protest regarding bed times or anything like that, clearly realizing this was more important.
So at ten in the evening, a clearly exhausted Aunt Zoe opened the door and let in Taylor and her dad.
Taylor practically threw her jacket on the coat rack and barely acknowledged Zoe before making her way to the living room.
Emma sat on the couch, by herself, and she simply looked terrible. She turned her head to look when the door opened, but didn't greet Taylor. In fact, her expression barely changed.
Taylor didn't hesitate for a moment and raced towards her friend, grabbing her into a hug even before sitting down next to her. Again, Emma's disposition simply felt wrong. She didn't relax or hug Taylor back, she didn't even start crying. She just… sat there.
After a bit, without letting go of her, Taylor looked through the room, noticing that her father had sat down next to Uncle Alan, who seemed rather shook himself. Aunt Zoe had retaken a chair, and in another chair sat a girl wearing protective clothing and a mask, all in bright pink, contrasting with the dark-colored skin of her hands and unobscured parts of her head and neck.
"Are you Cupid?" Taylor asked, though the answer was obvious.
"I am," the girl said. "I'm glad you could come quickly."
Taylor looked to Emma, who still hadn't really responded to her hug. "And I'm glad you called me. I can't imagine what it would have been like for Emma if I hadn't come back for another two weeks."
"There is something only friends can provide for each other," Cupid said with a nod.
Taylor wasn't entirely sure what she could do to draw Emma out of her shell, so she decided to go with the only thing she could think of. She started talking. Telling Emma about summer camp, asking her about what she'd been up to these last few weeks, before the mugging. While she didn't respond verbally, her reactions showed that she heard what Taylor was saying. So the black-haired girl kept going, all the while hugging her, holding her hand or whatever felt natural in the moment.
Cupid helped the best she could, asking Taylor questions and occasionally throwing in her thoughts, while the adults had taken a bit of a step back and were quietly talking to one another.
Taylor had been at it for more than half an hour, and she was in the middle of relaying a funny story about what some girls at camp had pulled, on occasion pausing to giggle, when Emma suddenly moved. Taylor's story was brought to an instant halt as Emma gripped onto her with the tightest, most desperate hug Taylor had ever felt and started crying into her shoulder.
"Shh, shh, it's okay, Emma," Taylor said as she comforted her, the anecdote forgotten. "Just let it out. It's over now. I'm here. Your parents are here. And Cupid saved you, didn't she?"
Emma nodded into her shoulder, and she kept giving the red-head comforting platitudes. The sudden shift from Emma had drawn everyone's attention, however no one said anything, instead letting Taylor comfort the girl.
It took another ten minutes until the thing everyone had been hoping for happened.
"T-thank you, Taylor," Emma stammered. "F-for being h-here for me."
"Always," Taylor said with a goofy grin as she hugged her sister-in-name tighter. "You didn't think I picked Winslow over Arcadia for nothing, did you?"
Emma just hugged her even more.
"Winslow?" Cupid asked. "I'll be going there too next year. I'd love to have some friends already!"
Taylor smiled at her. "Me too. Well, apart from Emma of course, she'll always remain my bestest friend. I don't even know your civilian identity though."
"Well, that can easily be fixed," Cupid said. "I already unmasked for Emma and her parents anyway." She took off her mask, and Taylor accepted her offered hand. "I'm Sophia Hess, glad to meet you."
"Taylor Hebert," Taylor responded. "And I'm incredibly glad you were there for Emma earlier today."
"That's my job as a superhero," Sophia said. "Making the world a better place one act at a time. And hey, turns out I even made friends for my new school already." She grinned. "To think there are people who believe heroism doesn't pay. Weirdos, right?"
Taylor laughed. "It certainly did for Emma." She looked at her life-long friend.
The redhead seemed to have finally cried out the worst of her emotional turmoil and turned to Sophia. "Thanks for saving us. And for getting Taylor here."
"Anytime," Sophia said. "Friends are the most important thing anyone can have."
AN: I didn't manage to work this into the story but I want to clarify it nonetheless: Sophia's power here is identical to canon Sophia's power. The only observed difference, namely her "shadow" form being pink, is actually a result of her constantly bugging Armsmaster that a black shadow didn't fit her image until he relented and created a tinkertech device that allowed her to change the color.
Summary: When Emma is in shock after an attempted mugging, the heroine that saved her falls back on her general life philosophy in order to help her out.
Emma was more scared than she could ever remember being.
She tried to cower behind her father, but he was not much better off as the ABB goons closed in around them. Menacing, knives drawn.
Shit, shit, fuck, what were they—oh god, no, don't think of that.
The small part of Emma that managed to remain rational prayed to anyone willing to listen for help, but she was sure none would come in time.
The gangsters roughly grabbed Emma and pulled her forward, then down to her knees.
What were they—oh god, they wanted to… what? No, no—
Emma froze in panic.
A bright blur of color drew her attention.
She looked in that direction – up on the roof, just over there.
A strange snap sounded, followed immediately by a choking sound from one of the gangsters.
Another snap, and a second gangster keeled over. The rest let Emma go, distracted by whatever was happening.
A cape – it had to be a cape – in an offensively pink outfit dropped down between them and took down two more goons with some impressive acrobatics. The last managed to get a strike in, only for the cape to turn into a fine, pink mist, and his knife went through her without causing harm. Two seconds later, a haymaker had taken him down, too.
Emma collapsed to the side, a multitude of emotions coursing through her at once – relief, panic, fear, and really that was just scratching the surface. She closed in on herself by instinct, her arms around her knees, her face hidden between them, and as she leaned against the car tears started to flow.
"Hey, hey." Emma flinched away from the arm around her shoulders only to relax once she realized it was the cape that had saved her. "Are you okay?" The girl's voice wasn't suited for kindness, which made the empathy she managed to put into her tone all the more impressive.
Not that Emma caught any of that. All she managed was to cry and weakly shake her head.
"Come on," the cape said, sitting down and pulling Emma into an embrace with Emma's head in her chest. "Here, don't worry, everything's going to be alright. Did they hurt you?"
Emma shook her head.
"Just take your time," she said soothingly. "They won't hurt you, I'll tie them up, call the police, and they'll go to jail."
Emma heard the words, but found herself unable to react. They sat there for maybe half a minute, then the cape spoke up again, this time talking to Dad.
"Mister? Perhaps you and your daughter can comfort each other for a moment? I need a few minutes to tie these people up and get the cops involved."
Emma whined in protest when those comforting arms left her, however they were immediately replaced by a set of more familiar arms – her father. Together, they cried out their whirlwind of emotions while the cape secured the gangers and made a phone call.
Then, she returned to them.
"How are you doing? Can you drive, mister?"
"Y-yeah, I think I can," Dad said uncertainly.
"And you?" Emma realized the cape was asking her. "Are you okay?"
Emma didn't know.
After a moment, she shook her head.
"You know what," the cape said, "give me a moment to make another phone call, then I'll come and stay with you for a bit, how's that? That way you know you're safe."
"Yes—yes please, if that's alright with you," Dad said.
"It's no problem," the cape said. "I just need to make sure the PRT knows why I won't be there for my scheduled patrol."
Alan was still shaking slightly when he parked the car in their driveway. The cape – a Ward, if Alan was not mistaken – had proposed that she'd sit in the back together with Emma so she could keep comforting Alan's daughter, which was probably a good idea. Alan knew he was severely shaken, but Emma hadn't said a word since the mugging started, and it was getting concerning.
The cape darted out of her seat and around the car before Alan had even gotten out himself and she was now helping Emma get out.
"I'm sorry," he said as he looked over at the cape, "but I don't actually know your name. I don't exactly keep up with the cape scene."
"No problem at all," she said as she pulled the still near-catatonic Emma out of her chair. "I'm Cupid, I joined the Brockton Bay Wards a few months ago."
"Don't the Wards normally patrol in pairs?" Alan asked. It had always seemed like a reasonable precaution to him considering they were only kids.
"Normally, yes," Cupid said. "I'm uh… not the greatest at moderating, though." She chuckled. "So I tend to do some rounds before and after my actual patrol as well. It's not exactly allowed, but so long as I don't get injured and don't use excessive violence they look the other way. Come, Emma, let's get you inside, nice in your own home, hm?"
She and Emma followed Alan inside and to the living room, where Cupid sat Emma down on a couch.
"Well, I'm glad you were there for us," Alan said. "I don't want to think about… about what might have happened otherwise."
"It's no problem," Cupid said.
The door to the stairs opened and Zoe entered only to freeze at the scene before her.
Over the next fifteen minutes, with a lot of help from Cupid, Alan told her what had happened, and he was more thankful than he'd ever admit that she sat down with him and held him in an embrace.
"And you, Emma?" Zoe asked, turning to their daughter. "Are you okay? I don't remember you saying anything."
Emma opened her mouth, but couldn't force the words out. Again, tears started flowing even as Cupid comforted her again.
Alan reluctantly let Zoe go to sit with Emma instead, leaving him alone.
"I'm worried about her," Cupid said. "Hey, Emma, everything is alright, okay?" She and Zoe continued to try and coax more of a reaction out of the girl, to little success.
After a few minutes, Cupid made a proposal that surprised Alan.
"Shall I unmask?" she suggested. "It's better to look at a face than a mask, isn't it, Emma?"
The girl didn't react.
"Are you sure about that?" Alan asked.
"I trust none of you would out me," Cupid said. She took off her mask – as pink as the rest of her outfit – and revealed her surprisingly youthful black face. She probably wasn't any older than Emma herself, Alan realized.
"I'm Sophia," she introduced herself. "Sophia Hess."
Emma glanced up at her and nodded.
"Nice to meet you, Emma. I wish it'd been in a better situation."
It helped, Alan observed over the next half hour. Emma was responding a little more, reacting to what they said and indicating things, but despite a few more attempts, she just didn't manage to say anything.
In Alan's head, nightmares had started to roam that his daughter might forever be mute, partially locked in a state of shock from trauma.
"She needs a friend," Sophia suddenly said. "I can do whatever I want, but at the end of the day, I'm still a stranger. Do you have the phone number of her best friend? Or a good friend, at least?"
Alan and Zoe shared a glance.
"Well, there's Taylor," Zoe said. "But she's at summer camp."
"Anyone else?" Sophia asked.
"No one she's even nearly as close with as Taylor," Alan said.
Sophia scratched her chin. "You think Taylor would come back from camp for this?"
"Absolutely," Zoe said immediately.
"Then that's what we'll do," Sophia said.
"Taylor! Taylor Hebert! Is Taylor Hebert here?" a counselor called.
"That's me," Taylor said, looking up. "What's going on?"
"We've got someone on the phone asking to speak to you," he said. "Said it's urgent."
Curious, Taylor followed him to the landline.
"Taylor Hebert speaking."
"Hello, Taylor. This is Cupid speaking, Brockton Bay Ward."
Taylor frowned, several thoughts going through her head. Was this a prank call? Why would a Ward be calling her? Or had Emma set up a joke?
She went with a combination of the questions.
"Did Emma set this up as a prank call?" she asked. While she loved Emma dearly, she thought this was in bad taste.
"I'm calling about Emma, but I'm afraid it's nothing as light-hearted as a prank," the girl on the other side said.
Now Taylor felt herself getting worried. She didn't think Emma or someone recruited by Emma would go that far, in particular if she called them out on it.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Earlier this afternoon, I saved Emma and her father from a mugging," Cupid said, and Taylor felt dread settling in.
"Are they okay?" she asked urgently.
"They're physically okay," Cupid placated, and Taylor's heart leapt momentarily only to be stabbed mid-air by the next thing Cupid said. "However, Emma is in shock. She's… almost completely unresponsive, only making the most basic gestures, and she hasn't said a word since."
Taylor gasped. "Emma! I… I have to come see her! I can't… I can't…" Visions of her mother's funeral came to mind as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She couldn't lose her best friend. Not so soon after she'd lost her mother and – in a way – her father. She almost missed what Cupid said next.
"That's exactly what I was thinking. If there's one thing Emma needs right now, it's a friend. Her parents mentioned you, so I decided to call. Could you talk to the counselors and give your dad a call, and get here as soon as possible?"
"Of course!" Taylor exclaimed. "I'm coming as quickly as I can!"
Her eyes were watery with tears, but after she hung up the phone she immediately set out to talk to the counselors. Going to summer camp had been a mistake in the first place – she already hadn't really wanted to go, and this just showed why.
It was already getting late when they arrived back in Brockton Bay, but Taylor had been insistent to visit Emma that same day, and Danny didn't put up any real protest regarding bed times or anything like that, clearly realizing this was more important.
So at ten in the evening, a clearly exhausted Aunt Zoe opened the door and let in Taylor and her dad.
Taylor practically threw her jacket on the coat rack and barely acknowledged Zoe before making her way to the living room.
Emma sat on the couch, by herself, and she simply looked terrible. She turned her head to look when the door opened, but didn't greet Taylor. In fact, her expression barely changed.
Taylor didn't hesitate for a moment and raced towards her friend, grabbing her into a hug even before sitting down next to her. Again, Emma's disposition simply felt wrong. She didn't relax or hug Taylor back, she didn't even start crying. She just… sat there.
After a bit, without letting go of her, Taylor looked through the room, noticing that her father had sat down next to Uncle Alan, who seemed rather shook himself. Aunt Zoe had retaken a chair, and in another chair sat a girl wearing protective clothing and a mask, all in bright pink, contrasting with the dark-colored skin of her hands and unobscured parts of her head and neck.
"Are you Cupid?" Taylor asked, though the answer was obvious.
"I am," the girl said. "I'm glad you could come quickly."
Taylor looked to Emma, who still hadn't really responded to her hug. "And I'm glad you called me. I can't imagine what it would have been like for Emma if I hadn't come back for another two weeks."
"There is something only friends can provide for each other," Cupid said with a nod.
Taylor wasn't entirely sure what she could do to draw Emma out of her shell, so she decided to go with the only thing she could think of. She started talking. Telling Emma about summer camp, asking her about what she'd been up to these last few weeks, before the mugging. While she didn't respond verbally, her reactions showed that she heard what Taylor was saying. So the black-haired girl kept going, all the while hugging her, holding her hand or whatever felt natural in the moment.
Cupid helped the best she could, asking Taylor questions and occasionally throwing in her thoughts, while the adults had taken a bit of a step back and were quietly talking to one another.
Taylor had been at it for more than half an hour, and she was in the middle of relaying a funny story about what some girls at camp had pulled, on occasion pausing to giggle, when Emma suddenly moved. Taylor's story was brought to an instant halt as Emma gripped onto her with the tightest, most desperate hug Taylor had ever felt and started crying into her shoulder.
"Shh, shh, it's okay, Emma," Taylor said as she comforted her, the anecdote forgotten. "Just let it out. It's over now. I'm here. Your parents are here. And Cupid saved you, didn't she?"
Emma nodded into her shoulder, and she kept giving the red-head comforting platitudes. The sudden shift from Emma had drawn everyone's attention, however no one said anything, instead letting Taylor comfort the girl.
It took another ten minutes until the thing everyone had been hoping for happened.
"T-thank you, Taylor," Emma stammered. "F-for being h-here for me."
"Always," Taylor said with a goofy grin as she hugged her sister-in-name tighter. "You didn't think I picked Winslow over Arcadia for nothing, did you?"
Emma just hugged her even more.
"Winslow?" Cupid asked. "I'll be going there too next year. I'd love to have some friends already!"
Taylor smiled at her. "Me too. Well, apart from Emma of course, she'll always remain my bestest friend. I don't even know your civilian identity though."
"Well, that can easily be fixed," Cupid said. "I already unmasked for Emma and her parents anyway." She took off her mask, and Taylor accepted her offered hand. "I'm Sophia Hess, glad to meet you."
"Taylor Hebert," Taylor responded. "And I'm incredibly glad you were there for Emma earlier today."
"That's my job as a superhero," Sophia said. "Making the world a better place one act at a time. And hey, turns out I even made friends for my new school already." She grinned. "To think there are people who believe heroism doesn't pay. Weirdos, right?"
Taylor laughed. "It certainly did for Emma." She looked at her life-long friend.
The redhead seemed to have finally cried out the worst of her emotional turmoil and turned to Sophia. "Thanks for saving us. And for getting Taylor here."
"Anytime," Sophia said. "Friends are the most important thing anyone can have."
AN: I didn't manage to work this into the story but I want to clarify it nonetheless: Sophia's power here is identical to canon Sophia's power. The only observed difference, namely her "shadow" form being pink, is actually a result of her constantly bugging Armsmaster that a black shadow didn't fit her image until he relented and created a tinkertech device that allowed her to change the color.
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Cute
AN: New oneshot! I think I've managed to find a consistent writing schedule, but I'm not making any promises at this point in time. Hopefully, I'll get around to updating Royal Prerogative sometime in the next few weeks - I already did some very brief writing (200 words) on it. Also, you might've noticed (or probably not) that I changed the title of the Cupid oneshot to Cupid vs Trauma, this is to bring the title in line with any future oneshots I might write featuring the same protagonist. Now, onto the new oneshot, which, just to be clear, is not about Cupid, although I'm once again playing around with making some changes to someone's canon characterization and exploring the fallout.
Summary: Emma really should have known better than to try and bully Taylor. At least Sophia had the excuse that she didn't know what she was getting into. And Madison? She's happy just watching things unfold, really.
"I don't want to be friends anymore," Emma said.
I snorted. "Don't be silly, Ems."
"I've been wanting to break things off for a year now," she continued, unabated. "I just had to figure out a way."
"You know, it's kind of cute when you act like that," I remarked.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she seemed lost for words. Had she really expected me to break down or protest or something?
The other girl in the room, the new friend Emma had made while I was off to summer camp, made an angry noise in her throat, and then was on me in mere moments, pushing me up to the wall of Emma's room. Only because I let her because, come on, I had several inches over her.
"Don't talk to her like that," new girl demanded.
The ghost of a smile played around my lips. "Why not? I've been friends with Emma pretty much since we were born. I think I can decide for myself how to talk to her."
"Didn't you listen?" she asked aggressively. "She doesn't want to be friends with you anymore."
I shrugged. "Everyone says weird stuff sometimes. Doesn't mean they mean it. So, what was your name again?"
"Sophia," she responded, seeming a little lost for words.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look positively adorable when you're angry, Sophia?"
She genuinely bluescreened for a moment, but then she reapplied the pressure, now with a single hand on my neck. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you weirdo?"
I shrugged again. "Emma probably knows better than me."
Sophia seemed to still be confused at the conversation, but let me go after a few more seconds. Emma, meanwhile, seemed to have regained her bearings somewhat.
"You should leave, Taylor," she said.
"Okay," I said. I looked at Sophia. "So, are you also coming to Winslow next year?"
"Yeah I am," she confirmed. "You better not bother Emma there, got it?"
"I'll see you at school, Sophia. Bye. And bye, Emma, see you soon."
I left, as Emma had requested, leaving two confused girls behind. I wasn't sure what Emma's angle was – she seemed different; perhaps something had happened while I was gone? – but had she really expected me to break down crying or something?
Come on Emma, we've been friends our entire lives, you should know me better than that. I'm a little disappointed in you, actually.
Oh well, there'll be time to remedy that.
I slid into the chair in the Winslow cafeteria. "Hi Ems, hi Sophia. How has your first morning of high school been?"
"Did we invite you here?" Sophia demanded.
"No," I said. "I just wanted to sit next to my friend. And besides, you're the only two girls I actually know here."
"I don't want to be friends with you anymore," Emma repeated from last week. "Sorry, Taylor, but you're just…. Lame."
"If you say so," I responded. "So anyway, we never really did talk about our summers. I've got a few funny stories from the camp I visited, you know." I started telling one, ignoring Emma's claim that no one was interested in them.
Come on, Emma, neither of us is buying that.
Halfway through the story – it seemed Sophia and Emma had gone with attempting to ignore me for the moment, not that it really worked – a cute, brown-haired girl arrived at our table.
"Oh hey," Emma said, turning her attention to the new arrival. "Madison, right?"
The girl nodded. "That's me. I figured I could sit with you, if that's alright?"
"Sure," Emma said. "Better you than Taylor here." She gave me a nasty glance.
"Hi," I said, giving Madison a smile. "I'm Taylor, as you probably guessed. Emma seems to be a little moody recently, don't think too much of it, she'll come around."
"Um, pleased to meet you," Madison said, a little awkwardly.
Sorry, Emma, but that awkwardness is entirely on you. I take no responsibility for it.
"I like your look, by the way."
"Thanks," Madison said, clearly pleased.
"What the fuck does it take to get you to shut up?" Sophia demanded.
"Duct tape," I responded promptly.
Madison snorted.
Well, if nothing else high school was looking interesting.
A few days later, Sophia approached from the other side in a busy hallway and tried to shoulder check me into a wall. However, I braced myself in time to hold my balance.
"You know, your intentions are so obvious that it's kind of cute," I remarked.
"Would you stop calling me cute?" she demanded angrily. She seemed to be angry a lot. I'd help her get rid of that, in time.
"Then stop being cute," I parried. "I just call it as I see it."
She tried getting into my face again, but it really wasn't that effective with someone several inches taller than her. Like a Chihuahua yapping at a Great Dane.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she barked.
"You already asked me that when we first met," I said with some amusement. "Didn't I tell you to ask Emma instead? I'm not really a self-diagnosing kind of person, and I dare say no one knows me better than she does."
"I swear, you're not right in the head," Sophia said, a little louder than necessary – no doubt so that the people around us would hear it.
"Whatever you say. Also, you're doing that thing where you're cute again." I smirked. "I'm really starting to take a liking to you, Sophia."
I continued walking, leaving her to glare at me. Meanwhile, our peers seemed to mostly be confused at the altercation. Probably wondering whether it was some kind of sexual tension thing or something.
Well, I wasn't ruling anything out – I hadn't lied a word when I said Sophia was being cute. Any of the times I'd told her that. Though to be fair, I also found Emma's attempts at gossiping about me cute – there was just a lot of stuff that I considered cute. Even if most people wouldn't.
At least Madison tentatively seemed to understand me. Then again, she was a connoisseur of the cute. If she kept going the way she'd been so far, I might even have to promote her to the position of Taylor-whisperer in Emma's stead; after all, Emma had been failing at that job quite spectacularly recently.
"Who are you even? Why are you here?" the vapid girl asked. What was her name? I hadn't bothered learning it. She was blonde and had a rather particular attitude.
I smiled. "I'm Taylor. And there's no need to be so rude, you know. We can get along perfectly well."
"Yeah, but not with you," she said, trying to look down at me across her nose.
Well, time to do something about that, huh?
"You know, that look works way better if you're taller than the person you want to look down at. This way it's a bit silly. Also cute though, I'll admit. Eight out of ten for the attempt, four out of ten execution."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Just myself," I half-shrugged. "Which is far better than being some stuck-up bitch who imagines herself as the queen bee of the school but actually has the creativity of a stone brick, so instead has to suck up to the real queen bee. Which I imagine is Emma, in your case?"
She spluttered. "Now listen—"
I interrupted her. "I'll take that as a yes. Again, you're pretty cute like this, but you really don't have the intimidation factor to back up your words. Leave it to the professionals."
I turned and left, leaving the confounded would-be bully behind.
"Hey Ems," I greeted as I slid down in the chair next to her in class.
"Can't you sit somewhere else?" she asked, face scrunched up in distaste.
"Nope," I said cheerily. "I've had to shut down three attempts at bullying me today, you know. Girls I don't even know the name of. I need a moment to relax with someone I'm familiar with."
"Bullying?" Emma scoffed. "I bet you just can't handle it when people say the truth to your face."
"That, or someone's prompting them," I responded easily. "It's kind of silly, really. But hey, at least you have known me for long enough to understand how unlikely that is to work, right?"
Just poking a little. I still wasn't sure what had prompted Emma to change so much and pursue such a futile endeavor, but I was going to get it out to her. She was my friend and no one was going to take that away. Not even Emma herself.
Meanwhile, she scoffed in response, but did actually seem lost for words for a bit. In fact, it took her long enough to answer that I'd almost brought up another subject to natter on about when she finally opened her mouth.
"You really believe that, don't you?" She smiled nastily. Oh, this was going to be good. The kind of response that was the difference between Emma and that girl from this morning. "Your confidence would be admirable if it weren't so misplaced, Taylor. I'd almost be worried for you, because it'll make things even more painful when you realize the truth, but I guess you wouldn't take me seriously anyway, so I won't bother."
I gave her a dreamy smile, but didn't respond.
"What's with that weird look?" she demanded.
"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how cute you are with all the backhanded compliments and veiled insults. You're really talented."
Her face went through several expressions of confusion, but before she could muster up a response, the teacher started the class, drawing our attention away from each other.
Madison froze, awkwardly holding the carton of juice in both hands, ready to squeeze it.
I brought the full force of my gaze to bear.
"Eep!"
She turned and got ready to bolt.
"Stay."
She did.
I caught up to her, and she fell in line with me – although I had to measure my steps somewhat.
She started to apologize.
"Shh-sh-sh," I said, shutting her up.
"That, uhm, that was a bad idea, wasn't it?"
"It was," I agreed. "But at least you realized that, didn't you?" I gave her a smile.
She nodded frantically.
"No harm, no foul," I said, patting her shoulder. "You just got carried away by Emma."
"What's the deal with the two of you?" Madison asked.
"Honestly? I'm not sure," I said with a half-shrug. "She seems to have decided she wants to bully me, even though we've been friends all our lives."
"When you put it like that, that's kind of a dick move," Madison observed.
"And now you're forgetting that you were about to participate in said bullying," I pointed out.
"But I didn't," she said defensively.
"Only because you realized it wouldn't end well for you. But you misunderstood me, about Emma. It's cute what she's trying to do, but it's never, ever going to work. And I don't understand for the life of me how she didn't realize that before ever starting this, specifically because she's known me for this long. And that's what I meant when I made that remark."
I snorted. "Unless she's got some kind of crush on Sophia and is trying to impress her this way?"
Madison giggled.
"I mean, if you ask me, Sophia is absolutely adorable," I continued, drawing a surprised look from Madison, "but my standards for that aren't really average."
"You're… kind of weird," Madison said. "Um, but like, not in a mean way. I mean, I didn't mean it in a mean way. Or, um… ugh." She made a very undignified noise at the way she'd tied her tongue up.
"I get it," I said with some amusement. "Thing is, Emma has always been the one with a lot of friends who spent all her time social networking, meanwhile I'd stick to her and maybe one or two others. It's as if she's forgotten that's not because I'm bad at social interaction, but because I don't bother with it as much.
"But if it's needed? I can be absolutely vicious, as I've already had to show quite a few girls this year. As you actually saw coming before you crossed the line, unlike the others. Not to mention I tend to just find the attempts amusing. And while I don't care about those idiots, because if you're going to bully someone you don't deserve any mercy, I do worry about Emma, if I'm being honest. She's my friend, after all."
"She doesn't seem to want to be friends with you anymore," Madison observed. It wasn't a criticism.
"And yet, she needs me more than ever. I get the appeal of wanting to be on top of the social pyramid, intellectually at least, but the way Emma is doing it right now isn't healthy. Or nice."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Madison asked. "Aren't you worried I'll just run to Emma and tell her?"
"Go ahead, if that's what you want – she should already know it. I'm telling you because I like being able to talk to someone, and you seem to be the only one in this shithole of a school who actually understands me right now. Normally that would be Emma, but, well, that's the problem, right?"
"I don't think I understand you. At all."
I gave her a genuine smile. "Maybe not to the degree Emma should, but that's because we've only known each other for a few weeks. But you did show the instinctive understanding that emptying that carton over my clothes was a capital letters Bad Idea. That's more than most of this school manages after they've had some encouragement from Emma. So, you've been promoted to my confidante."
"Um. Thanks?"
"No problem," I laughed. When I reached over to fuss her hair, she went beet red. "And it doesn't hurt that you look so cute."
Sophia pushed me up against a wall.
"You need to shut up for once," she hissed, no doubt referring to our exchange from before she got physical.
I gave her a vaguely amused look. "It's hardly like I can't stop talking, you know. But if you talk to me, why wouldn't I respond?"
"Because you don't talk back to your betters, and certainly not like that."
"Well, okay," I said, bringing my hand up and lightly placing it on her waist.
She immediately batted it away. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I'm running out of ways to tell you that you're cute without repeating myself, so I'm trying to find other methods to communicate that."
Her finger practically poked my breastbone. "I. Am. Not. Cute. You. Weirdo."
"Whatever you say, Sophie."
I grabbed her arm out of the air before she could slap me in the face. "Cute and spicy," I grinned. "If you don't mind, I'm almost late for class."
I pushed her aside, dodged the obvious strike that came after I turned my back to her, and walked away, leaving Sophia to stumble in full view of the classmates that had been watching.
Bad form, Sophia. Never assume your target is oblivious to your intentions.
"Hey, Mads."
"Hey."
"Sophie."
Growl.
"Ems."
"What are you doing here?"
"Nine out of ten, that expression of disgust is very well-crafted." I sorted out everything on my tray and started eating.
"Are you a masochist, Taylor?" Emma asked.
I looked at her as I considered the question, briefly tilting my head. "Not when it comes to physical pain. Psychological pain? No clue, in order to figure that out someone would have to hurt me first. Can't say that's happened yet."
Madison giggled.
"Do you think you're funny?" Sophia demanded.
I shrugged. "Wasn't particularly trying to. I'm pretty sure it amused Madison though."
All eyes turned to the girl in question, who quickly adopted a blank look. "No clue what she's talking about."
Emma shrugged, apparently having practically zero interest in being mean to someone who wasn't me. Well, that was a good thing at least.
"I'm pretty sure there's just something wrong with Taylor," she said to Sophia in a voice quite a bit louder than needed. Meant for not just me, but also the adjacent tables to hear. "I don't know how I never noticed it before, really."
I snorted. "Did you really forget about that girl two grades above us in elementary school?"
Emma ignored me, so I started retelling the story to Madison, making sure I was talking loudly enough that the people at the adjacent table, who were now listening in, could follow it, without being as obvious about it as Emma.
Then again, that was something of an unfair comparison, as I already had their attention, precisely thanks to what Emma had done.
In short, a girl had attempted to bully me and Emma, and I'd shut her down in much the same way I had been shutting down Emma and Sophia ever since high school started.
Though with a bit less calling her cute. I blamed puberty on that one.
"She lives in a fantasy world, I think," Emma told Sophia. Still talking about me, of course.
"Now you're just projecting," I said.
Emma blinked, clearly needing a moment to process the statement. "And what, exactly, are you implying with that, you skinny frog?"
Did I mention she'd started coming up with insults about my appearance? Come on, Emma, I'm lesbian and you know it, if I want to know whether I'm attractive all I have to do is look in the mirror.
I opened my mouth to give a rather sarcastic response, but paused when I realized this was Emma I was talking to. Not just one of the many random bullies I'd shut up recently. I didn't want to just verbally obliterate Emma. Sure, it would get her off my back, but it'd also end our friendship.
"See? She doesn't have a clue what she's talking about."
"You got me there, in my one moment of weakness," I said with a chuckle. "I've said this before, but I'm really not trying to make fun of you when I'm telling you that you're very good at this kind of thing, Emma." I reached over and patted her hand, which she jerked away.
I smiled. "It's still kind of adorable that you really seem to believe you can hurt me like this, though."
"Why are you so obsessed with calling anything I do cute or adorable?" she asked snidely.
"Because it kind of is," I said frankly. "You're like a two year old that's trying to prepare their own food. Your dedication is immense, and while the execution is somewhat lacking, it doesn't really hurt anyone, so there's no need to get mad about it."
"…"
Wow.
Had I just left Emma speechless in a verbal spar?
I mean, I was no slouch in that department, but neither was Emma, and usually I'd expect at least some reply from her, even if it might not be adequate.
Just then, she restarted with a splutter, and her face turned red. Wait, she was losing her calm?
Damn, there must be some deeper issue here that I hadn't been aware of. But maybe this could be the first step towards doing something about it.
Emma threw her remaining food all over me, then stormed off angrily, Sophia following right behind her.
I glanced at my ruined clothes, then to Emma's retreating form.
"Well, that wasn't very nice."
Madison lost her self-control and started howling with laughter.
Sophia roughly pushed me up against a wall.
Again.
This had to be at least a weekly occurrence.
"If you want to talk to me you can just say so, you know," I remarked with some amusement.
"I am going to make this very clear," she growled, ignoring my comment. "You are not welcome at our table, and you stay away from Emma unless she approaches you. Got it?"
"Sophie…" I sighed as I slowly shook my head. She snarled. "I'm glad to see you care so much about her, I really am. But I only have Emma's best interests in mind. She's my best friend and I'll do anything for her. Even if she's behaving a little oddly at the moment."
"How about you stop backtalking to her then, hm?" Sophia demanded.
I put my hand on her waist again. She shook it off. "Emma is one of those people who needs a bit of resistance every now and then so that she doesn't get carried away," I explained calmly. "I know her. I've been wondering for some time, and with the way she reacted yesterday I'm now sure that there's something deeper. And I'm going to keep bugging her about it until she acknowledges it and lets herself move on."
Sophia scoffed. "Sentimental tripe. Emma is fine, you're just mad she has new friends."
"Like you?" I asked. "I wouldn't mind being friends with you too, you know," I said, playing up a bit of a smirk as I moved my hand back to Sophia's waist. "It's not as if people can only have one friend at a time."
She batted my hand away. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you weirdo?"
"I'm sorry," I said with a playful undertone. "I fear I've caught a terminal case of cuteness appreciation. Which I'm sure there's a fancy Latin term for to make it sound more medical."
"I. Am. Not. Cute," Sophia hissed in my face once more.
"Sophie… cuteness is in the eye of the beholder. I like your spice, I like your attitude – although I'll admit you should probably tone it down towards the less resilient people sometimes – and I like your straightforwardness. I like you." My lips turned into another smirk. "And you don't get a say in that. Deal with it."
She gave an annoyed sigh, then backed away. "I'm too tired to deal with this shit. Fuck off."
I chuckled as I resumed my way. "You're the one who approached me, you know."
As the track field came into view, I just saw Sophia walk over to a bench after finishing her exercise, where she grabbed and mostly downed a bottle of water.
Perfect timing, then. By the time I arrived at the same bench, she'd caught her breath.
"Hey Sophie," I greeted, sitting down.
"The fuck are you doing here?"
"I'm thinking of joining one of the teams," I said. Mostly because I was somewhat concerned that the girl I was talking to right now might actually genuinely hurt me at some point, upon which she'd rapidly stop being cute and start being annoying instead, and I wanted to avoid that, but I wasn't going to tell her that.
"No one fucking wants you here."
"Do you think track would fit me? I'd say I have the right body type for it, don't I?"
Despite still recovering from her exercise, she turned to me and got into my face. "I repeat, Hebert, no one fucking wants you here. You'd just drag the team down. We need fighters, not weaklings."
I responded with an indulgent smile. "Are you still going on about that? You won't need to worry about that, Sophie. I've never been one to do things by half, and I'm not planning on starting now."
"Stop. Fucking. Calling. Me. That," she growled.
I smirked. "Why? A cute girl deserves a cute nickname." Okay, I'll admit that at this point I was deliberately trying to get a rise on her. I guess maybe I was getting addicted to her cuteness?
"Fuck you."
I bit my tongue to avoid asking the obvious question – 'is that an invitation?'. That probably wouldn't go over well at this point, and frankly?
I kind of wanted to see where this was going long-term.
"So anyway, could you give me an overview of the schedule and things like that for track?"
"Why do you have to bother me with this shit? Fuck off and go talk to the coach. Just don't cry when he tells you it's too difficult for you. Or do, that'd be funny."
I smirked. "Wait. You, Sophia Hess, are actually familiar with the concept of amusement?"
She squirted the water bottle at me, which just made me laugh more.
"I swear, fuck off, Hebert. I have far too much to do to deal with your annoying bullshit as well."
She got up – how rude, we were in the middle of a conversation – and started grabbing her things when I heard a new voice.
"Hey Sophia, I was wonder—what is she doing here?"
Emma, predictably, gave me her best look of disgust.
"Being a nuisance," Sophia answered for me.
I got the impression that Emma tried to find something demeaning to say about me, but gave up. "Anyway, do you want to go do something fun this afternoon?"
"Can't," Sophia said. "I need to prepare a few things for my job."
Sophia had a job? Huh. She didn't strike me as the type.
Emma's face fell, but she didn't even protest. "Alright then." She glanced at me, then turned back to Sophia. "Good luck with that."
"Yeah, thanks," Sophia said before leaving in the direction of the changing rooms.
Emma turned to me.
"You should probably be thanking Sophia for being patient enough to not hit you in the face."
"That would have been kinda rude," I responded easily.
"Knowing how you usually clown around, you probably deserve it, you know."
"I find her enjoyable company, most of the time." Not necessarily pleasant, but certainly enjoyable.
"You're just a total waste of oxygen, aren't you?"
I frowned. "Bit of a non sequitur, Emma. And I'm afraid I can't give it more than a four out of ten for creativity, either."
"Look at you, going back to that dumb rating coping mechanism again. Just admit that it's true."
"I'm going to be completely honest here, Emma. I don't know what you're trying, but I'm incredibly surprised you thought it was going to work. You know me, right? You've watched me deal with nasty comments for years. More than once, after we were home, you'd clutch on to me and look to comfort me because of the terrible things someone had said that no doubt hurt me even if I didn't show it, only for me to reply that I thought it was kind of amusing. What makes you think it'd be any different with you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, seeming a little defensive. "I'm only showing the truth to your face. I never should've pretended otherwise in the first place. If anything, that was mean of me, giving you false hope like that."
I snorted. "Okay, I'll admit, that one was pretty creative."
"What, does that mean you felt bad about it?"
She almost sounded hopeful. Weird.
"No, not really. I was just appreciating the creativity. Though… I guess it's an obvious follow-up to claiming you never wanted to be my friend, huh?" I made a thinking face. "Maybe it's not as inventive as I thought at first, because that one is easy to prepare ahead of time."
Emma scoffed. "Do you really think I'm going to waste my free time thinking about what I'm going to say to you, of all people?"
"Considering how eager you are to talk to me at any opportunity? Yeah, kind of."
"Stop living in your fantasy world."
"I'm not the one living in a fantasy world here, Emma. You've been failing to get a rise out of me for weeks. It's cute, but by this point it's also getting a little repetitive and boring. It hasn't worked, it's not working, it's not going to work. And I'm pretty sure you know that, deep down."
"That's not true!" Emma responded with a surprising amount of heat, making me realize that somehow, that seemed to be the touchy subject for her. It was the same thing that had made her throw her food over me last week.
"Yes it is," I said, finally standing up. "Emma, you've watched me find amusement in bullying attempts for years. Did you make it a challenge for yourself to try and get past that, or something? See if it was a coping mechanism after all? Because if so, I'm afraid I have to tell you that no, it's not." I smirked. "Just look at me and Sophia. You think I'd have sat down on that bench if I was just deflecting? Nah, I'd have gone straight to the coach to learn more about what joining track would mean. I like Sophia. She's incredibly cute, in particular if she's angry. This is just who I am."
Emma seemed to be shaking, although I wasn't sure with what emotion, until suddenly her face contorted in rage and she charged at me.
I responded as quickly as I could, grabbing her arms before she had a chance to punch me properly, although that still left me having to deal with her kicks against my shins. I forced her arms down despite her struggles, taking two, three kicks in the process, then put my arms around her in something that was half a hug and half a hold to stop her from moving her own arms.
At the same time, I tried to step forward and lock our legs together, which worked when her next kick went in between my legs, allowing me to hook my knee into hers.
It was a somewhat awkward and close – almost to the point of intimate – position, but she was neutralized.
Then she bit me, and I finally lost my calm, briefly breaking the hold on her arms to cuff her on the head.
"Don't do that again, or you'll regret it," I hissed venomously.
"Why are you like this?" Emma wailed, and I wasn't sure if it was in anger, despair or pain. "I just—I don't—I want to—"
Despair, I decided.
I moved my leg back – the position was kind of awkward otherwise – and turned the half-hug into an actual hug, ignoring how she immediately went back to bruising my shins.
"Shhh, it's going to be okay, Emma. Everything's going to be fine."
"No it won't be!" she screamed.
"Yes it will," I objected, pushing her head into my shoulder. "I'm not sure what's got you so worked up, but I'm going to help you get through it. Best friends, Emma. Always."
"No you're not!" she responded, her voice bordering on the hysterical. "You've been screwing it up for weeks! I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I HATE YOU!"
I pulled her closer to me, and suddenly… the dam broke. She collapsed into me and started crying.
Carefully, I guided her to the bench I'd been sitting on and sat both of us down, Emma now clutching onto me like a lifeline.
She continued sobbing while we sat there, one minute, then two, and I continued to comfort her, making the appropriate noises and gently rubbing her shoulder, while I ignored the pain still coming from my shins – I could deal with that if Emma needed it.
"I'm so weak," Emma whimpered, the first thing she'd said.
"No, you aren't," I responded reflexively.
"I am!" she insisted. "I'm pathetic, I'm worthless, I can't do anything right."
"Oh, Emma," I lamented as my heart lurched. "Who told you such nonsense?"
"I just wanted to show that I'm strong," she continued. "And, and if I could get a reaction out of you, make you angry or make you cry just once, that'd be enough because I know how resilient you are, but… but you just keep shrugging everything off. I'm worthless. I know everything about you and I still can't hurt you, that's how pathetic I am."
"Emma… strength isn't breaking other people. Strength is not letting other people break you." I forced her to look at me. "Are you going to let other people break you?"
We met eyes for a moment, before she let out a sob and clutched onto me as she started crying again, with renewed vigor.
"They already broke me," she wailed.
And then, bit by bit, the story came out. How she and her father had been ambushed by the ABB. How terrified she'd been, and how Shadow Stalker had saved her at the last moment. How she'd hidden in her room. How, when she'd finally dared leave the house again, she'd met Sophia. What Sophia had told her, about being strong. About strong people and weak people.
And then, the plan formed. Emma wanted to prove that she was strong, that her act of resistance with the ABB wasn't a fluke. And to do so, she wanted to get a reaction out of me, because that would make her stronger than me, and I was the strongest person she knew. Unlike what she'd insisted on over the last month, when she kept saying one way or another that I was weak, as if she were trying to make it true by repeating it over and over, and elevating herself in the process. Apparently, much of Sophia's antagonism stemmed from that as well, as Emma had insisted to her that I was weak.
"And a part of you was thinking it might be easier if she was also working to erode my self-confidence?" I asked.
Emma hesitated, then nodded. "I think so."
"Oh, Emma. Poor, foolish Emma. My dear friend." I contemplated what to say next. "I'm always here for you, Emma. Don't bottle things up like that, don't keep your struggles from me. You can get through it, through anything, and I'm here to help you, every step of the way. We'll figure something out."
"But why?" she asked.
"Because you're my friend. Isn't that enough?"
"So, what—what are we going to do?"
I considered the question.
"I'm thinking we're going to start off by going home together and watching a nice movie while hanging on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in our hands. And after that… we'll see."
Emma nodded. "That sounds as good as anything."
I foresaw a lot of talking in our future. With one another, with our parents, and maybe, if I was being honest, even with a therapist. But this was a start.
"What the hell did you do to Emma?" Sophia demanded the next morning.
I was, once more, pushed up against a wall.
"I showed her friendship," I responded, unfazed. "Through the good times, and the bad ones. She told me what happened while I was gone, you know. I'm glad you were there for her while I couldn't be, even if she latched onto your philosophy a little too much."
Sophia scoffed. "Too much? You're just weak, Hebert. Admit it."
I smiled and put my hand on her waist, intending to reveal why Emma had convinced Sophia of that in the first place. However, the moment I touched her, she flinched.
It wasn't the 'get your hands off of me' annoyed response she'd shown previously. No, this one was instinctive.
"Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice suddenly filled with concern.
She narrowed her eyes in anger. "None of your business, Hebert."
"Hell yes it is," I rebutted. "I care about you, Sophia. I don't like seeing you hurt."
She scoffed. "Just some E88 idiot. Trust me, he got off worse."
"Hah." I grinned despite myself. "I'm willing to believe that." After a moment, I put my other arm around her upper back in a brief half-hug. "He probably deserved that and more, well done."
Sophia's expression was complicated, though I was pretty sure there was some imperfectly hidden embarrassment in there.
"I still don't like seeing you hurt though. Be careful, this city is dangerous for black people, and girls in particular."
She scoffed, regaining her earlier nonchalance. "I know that."
"If you're ever in any kind of trouble, I'll do my best to help you out, Sophia."
That seemed to confuse her, although her expression turned calculating after a moment. I didn't bother figuring out what she was thinking, however, instead slipping away and heading off to my next class.
"I'll see you later, Sophie."
"Bitch!"
"How are you doing, Emma?"
She averted her gaze as I sat down next to her in the cafeteria, so I grabbed her hand.
"Hey, no sulking allowed."
"I'm sorry," she responded. "I just… it's been a lot."
"Did I hear that right?"
"Oh, hey Mads," I greeted as the brunette sat down. "Did you hear what right?"
"Emma saying sorry? And to you of all people?"
"We had a heart-to-heart yesterday," I responded evasively. "Emma has been a bit of a fool and kept some important things to herself even though it was eating her up inside."
Madison stared at us for a second, then nodded. "I won't pry."
"Thanks."
"Why the fuck are you two holding hands?" Sophia demanded as she approached.
Emma and I both glanced down, then let go.
"Just comforting my friend a bit," I responded, shielding Emma. I grinned. "You don't need to be worried about competition, Sophie."
Her eyes narrowed. "Competition for what?"
"My affections, duh."
Madison blinked in confusion, then sent me a shrewd look.
Sophia, meanwhile, stared at me. "I don't even fucking want to know."
"Well, come sit down," I invited. "Unless you'd rather eat while standing?"
"You're weird."
"Thank you."
Madison giggled, although she silenced herself quickly when Sophia turned her gaze upon her.
"Well," I said before the silence could turn awkward, "anyone had anything interesting happen in class today? Mine were completely sleep-inducing, if I'm being honest."
Luckily, Madison had something to get the conversation started.
Push. Shove.
"Why the fuck are you joining the track team?"
I glanced at Sophia's arms on either side of me, forcing me to stay where I was against the wall.
I smirked at her. "Is 'there's a cute girl on the track team' not enough reason?"
"No," she growled. "No, it isn't."
I couldn't help but smile. She was just so… ugh. It was hard to find words that could properly express the things she made me feel when she acted all aggressive like that. Like a kitten enthusiastically fighting a ball of yarn.
I placed my hands on her waist. "Well, I also want to exercise some more, and I figured I've got a good body for running, don't you agree?"
She scoffed. "You're a stick."
I smirked. "Then I better start training soon, right? But I've got the long legs already."
"I think you're just fucking with me."
"Nope, genuinely not," I responded. Although I had to admit that Sophia doing track was part of the reason why I joined this team in particular. "That would be unfair to the coach and all my teammates, Sophie."
She growled again, getting into my face. "Stop calling me that, bitch."
I smirked. "No."
In response, she actually bared her teeth at me. I almost cooed, it was so adorable.
Instead, I went for a brief hug and then released her. "I'll see you soon, Sophie. Just gotta get to class now."
"Fuck you, Hebert."
"You're limping."
"Fuck off."
"No, I won't. What is it with you, Sophia? Yes, I'm using your full name, I want your attention. This is what, at least the third time this year that you have an injury. That I know of. And it's barely even November! What's going on?"
"None of your business," she growled.
I glanced around the cafeteria. "Look, if you don't want to say it in public, I get that. Let's go somewhere else."
I turned and made for the door, only to realize Sophia wasn't following, and Emma was undecided.
So I went back to grab Sophia's arm and started tugging her along. And even though she gave an indignant squawk, she let me. Under protest, that is. And a few expletives and insults, but that was part of what made her so cute in the first place.
I pulled her into an empty classroom, Emma following behind.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on?"
"I don't have to tell you anything," Sophia bristled.
"Maybe you should," Emma suggested. "It's not like Taylor is going to tell anyone. Right, Taylor?"
I frowned. "That depends on whether anyone needs to be told. If someone's hurting Sophie…"
"I'm not a fucking baby! I can take care of myself. Also, stop calling me that!"
"Then stop being so damn cute."
"I'm not cute," she hissed aggressively. Okay, fair enough, she was definitely crossing the line into adorable territory right now.
I was still concerned about her limp though.
"So what is going on that's got you limping, but apparently under your control?" I asked, putting a healthy dose of doubt in my tone for those last few words. "It's not your home life, is it?"
She scoffed. "No. Steven's an ass, but he wouldn't dare to do this."
"So who would?"
"Some E88 thug," she replied evasively.
I gave her a very skeptical look. "Again? What, are you looking for them on purpose or something?"
Sophia gave me a defiant look.
"You should tell her," Emma repeated.
Apparently, Emma already knew.
"Why should I?" Sophia responded.
"Taylor has done much more to show you that she can be trusted than I'd shown you when you told me."
"Taylor is also a stupid dork and a weakling." Derisive tone or not, I was impressed that she actually used my first name.
"That's not true and you know it," Emma said hotly, coming to my defense. "The only reason you think so is because I told you that back in summer, and I've already told you I was being stupid and trying to make you hate Taylor!"
"Don't bother, Emma, I'm sure Sophia has a good understanding of me at this point," I said, though I gave my friend a smile.
"Alright, fine," Sophia relented. "But if anyone else hears about this, you're dead, Hebert. I'm not exaggerating here."
I nodded, but didn't respond. I wasn't entirely sure whether it really was this serious or whether she was exaggerating after all, but I could withhold judgement on that until I'd actually heard it.
"I'm a cape."
My eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oookay. Yeah, I can see why you don't want anyone else to know that." I thought for a moment, and suddenly the puzzle pieces fit together. "You're Shadow Stalker!"
"What? How the fuck?"
"That's why you got to know Emma," I reasoned. "She'd been rather vague about that when she told me, but it makes total sense now. Actually, I could've probably figured that out before. Guess I just didn't expect someone I'd met myself to be a cape, huh. So, what, you've been going out and fighting crime, and that's where you've been getting injured?"
"Yeah," Sophia said, sounding like she was sulking somewhat.
"Well, I guess that's a better reason than I expected. Good on you, Sophie, I'm proud of you."
"Yeah, well, maybe stop using that stupid nickname then," she mumbled irritably.
I gave her a quick hug, not giving her the time to interrupt it or comment on it. "Never. Keep it up, Sophia. And if you ever need help, just tell me." I started making my way to the door.
"I swear, you're such a baby."
"If you say so, babe," I said, winking at her.
I heard her splutter something to Emma just before I left the classroom and started walking back to the cafeteria. I figured Sophia would require a few moments to compose herself before they followed me.
Teasing her was just so much fun.
Sophia roughly grabbed me by the upper arms to push me back.
I took one step to balance myself, then refused to budge.
"What the…?"
I smirked. "You don't have to push me into a wall every time you want a hug, Sophie. You can just ask for it. Or even just go for the hug."
"I don't want to hug you," she denied.
I put my arms around her. "Sure you don't. And you certainly don't seek me out like this practically every day, hm?"
She grumbled something unintelligible, but her arms slowly snuck up to return the hug.
I snorted quietly, our heads on each other's shoulders. "Yeah, I thought so. Finally done with the posturing, huh?"
"I don't posture."
I smirked.
"Stop smirking."
"How do you even know I'm smirking?" I teased. "You can't see my face."
"I know what you're doing, you insufferable dork."
"And you enjoy it."
"No, I don't. I hate you," she said as she snuggled deeper into her favorite spot in my neck.
"From you, I'll consider that the declaration of love that it is."
She shot out of the hug. "The what?"
"You heard me the first time," I said smugly.
She gave me a completely flabbergasted look, which was arguably even more adorable than her aggression.
So I leaned forward and placed a brief kiss on her lips. "You're my girlfriend now."
With one last grin at Sophia, I turned and walked away, towards my next class.
I was almost around the corner when she called out.
"I'm your what now?"
"You heard me!" I called back.
After a moment of hesitation, I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed, and smirked at her as she walked up to me in a daze.
"Are you, like… are you fucking with me?" she asked. For once, she wasn't being aggressive.
"No, I'm not," I said, pulling her into another, shorter, embrace. "You are incredibly cute, as I've been telling you ever since we first met, and I like you a lot."
"But I've been giving you shit the entire time."
"And it has entertained me for just as long. You're stuck with me, Sophie. Deal with it."
She averted her face in what I was pretty sure was embarrassment.
I grasped her hand as I waited for her to gather herself.
"How the fuck did you end up in charge?" It was a genuine question.
I smirked, radiating amusement. "It's a skill. Honestly, you should blame Emma, she misled you completely about me. You had no way to know what you were getting into."
Sophia hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and snuggled into my chest.
I put my arms around her, one up on her head to play with her hair. "Though from what I can tell, you don't particularly mind."
"No," she admitted. "I guess I don't."
I placed a kiss on her scalp. "Mine."
Sophia just mumbled contently.
All was good.
Summary: Emma really should have known better than to try and bully Taylor. At least Sophia had the excuse that she didn't know what she was getting into. And Madison? She's happy just watching things unfold, really.
"I don't want to be friends anymore," Emma said.
I snorted. "Don't be silly, Ems."
"I've been wanting to break things off for a year now," she continued, unabated. "I just had to figure out a way."
"You know, it's kind of cute when you act like that," I remarked.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she seemed lost for words. Had she really expected me to break down or protest or something?
The other girl in the room, the new friend Emma had made while I was off to summer camp, made an angry noise in her throat, and then was on me in mere moments, pushing me up to the wall of Emma's room. Only because I let her because, come on, I had several inches over her.
"Don't talk to her like that," new girl demanded.
The ghost of a smile played around my lips. "Why not? I've been friends with Emma pretty much since we were born. I think I can decide for myself how to talk to her."
"Didn't you listen?" she asked aggressively. "She doesn't want to be friends with you anymore."
I shrugged. "Everyone says weird stuff sometimes. Doesn't mean they mean it. So, what was your name again?"
"Sophia," she responded, seeming a little lost for words.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look positively adorable when you're angry, Sophia?"
She genuinely bluescreened for a moment, but then she reapplied the pressure, now with a single hand on my neck. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you weirdo?"
I shrugged again. "Emma probably knows better than me."
Sophia seemed to still be confused at the conversation, but let me go after a few more seconds. Emma, meanwhile, seemed to have regained her bearings somewhat.
"You should leave, Taylor," she said.
"Okay," I said. I looked at Sophia. "So, are you also coming to Winslow next year?"
"Yeah I am," she confirmed. "You better not bother Emma there, got it?"
"I'll see you at school, Sophia. Bye. And bye, Emma, see you soon."
I left, as Emma had requested, leaving two confused girls behind. I wasn't sure what Emma's angle was – she seemed different; perhaps something had happened while I was gone? – but had she really expected me to break down crying or something?
Come on Emma, we've been friends our entire lives, you should know me better than that. I'm a little disappointed in you, actually.
Oh well, there'll be time to remedy that.
I slid into the chair in the Winslow cafeteria. "Hi Ems, hi Sophia. How has your first morning of high school been?"
"Did we invite you here?" Sophia demanded.
"No," I said. "I just wanted to sit next to my friend. And besides, you're the only two girls I actually know here."
"I don't want to be friends with you anymore," Emma repeated from last week. "Sorry, Taylor, but you're just…. Lame."
"If you say so," I responded. "So anyway, we never really did talk about our summers. I've got a few funny stories from the camp I visited, you know." I started telling one, ignoring Emma's claim that no one was interested in them.
Come on, Emma, neither of us is buying that.
Halfway through the story – it seemed Sophia and Emma had gone with attempting to ignore me for the moment, not that it really worked – a cute, brown-haired girl arrived at our table.
"Oh hey," Emma said, turning her attention to the new arrival. "Madison, right?"
The girl nodded. "That's me. I figured I could sit with you, if that's alright?"
"Sure," Emma said. "Better you than Taylor here." She gave me a nasty glance.
"Hi," I said, giving Madison a smile. "I'm Taylor, as you probably guessed. Emma seems to be a little moody recently, don't think too much of it, she'll come around."
"Um, pleased to meet you," Madison said, a little awkwardly.
Sorry, Emma, but that awkwardness is entirely on you. I take no responsibility for it.
"I like your look, by the way."
"Thanks," Madison said, clearly pleased.
"What the fuck does it take to get you to shut up?" Sophia demanded.
"Duct tape," I responded promptly.
Madison snorted.
Well, if nothing else high school was looking interesting.
A few days later, Sophia approached from the other side in a busy hallway and tried to shoulder check me into a wall. However, I braced myself in time to hold my balance.
"You know, your intentions are so obvious that it's kind of cute," I remarked.
"Would you stop calling me cute?" she demanded angrily. She seemed to be angry a lot. I'd help her get rid of that, in time.
"Then stop being cute," I parried. "I just call it as I see it."
She tried getting into my face again, but it really wasn't that effective with someone several inches taller than her. Like a Chihuahua yapping at a Great Dane.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she barked.
"You already asked me that when we first met," I said with some amusement. "Didn't I tell you to ask Emma instead? I'm not really a self-diagnosing kind of person, and I dare say no one knows me better than she does."
"I swear, you're not right in the head," Sophia said, a little louder than necessary – no doubt so that the people around us would hear it.
"Whatever you say. Also, you're doing that thing where you're cute again." I smirked. "I'm really starting to take a liking to you, Sophia."
I continued walking, leaving her to glare at me. Meanwhile, our peers seemed to mostly be confused at the altercation. Probably wondering whether it was some kind of sexual tension thing or something.
Well, I wasn't ruling anything out – I hadn't lied a word when I said Sophia was being cute. Any of the times I'd told her that. Though to be fair, I also found Emma's attempts at gossiping about me cute – there was just a lot of stuff that I considered cute. Even if most people wouldn't.
At least Madison tentatively seemed to understand me. Then again, she was a connoisseur of the cute. If she kept going the way she'd been so far, I might even have to promote her to the position of Taylor-whisperer in Emma's stead; after all, Emma had been failing at that job quite spectacularly recently.
"Who are you even? Why are you here?" the vapid girl asked. What was her name? I hadn't bothered learning it. She was blonde and had a rather particular attitude.
I smiled. "I'm Taylor. And there's no need to be so rude, you know. We can get along perfectly well."
"Yeah, but not with you," she said, trying to look down at me across her nose.
Well, time to do something about that, huh?
"You know, that look works way better if you're taller than the person you want to look down at. This way it's a bit silly. Also cute though, I'll admit. Eight out of ten for the attempt, four out of ten execution."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Just myself," I half-shrugged. "Which is far better than being some stuck-up bitch who imagines herself as the queen bee of the school but actually has the creativity of a stone brick, so instead has to suck up to the real queen bee. Which I imagine is Emma, in your case?"
She spluttered. "Now listen—"
I interrupted her. "I'll take that as a yes. Again, you're pretty cute like this, but you really don't have the intimidation factor to back up your words. Leave it to the professionals."
I turned and left, leaving the confounded would-be bully behind.
"Hey Ems," I greeted as I slid down in the chair next to her in class.
"Can't you sit somewhere else?" she asked, face scrunched up in distaste.
"Nope," I said cheerily. "I've had to shut down three attempts at bullying me today, you know. Girls I don't even know the name of. I need a moment to relax with someone I'm familiar with."
"Bullying?" Emma scoffed. "I bet you just can't handle it when people say the truth to your face."
"That, or someone's prompting them," I responded easily. "It's kind of silly, really. But hey, at least you have known me for long enough to understand how unlikely that is to work, right?"
Just poking a little. I still wasn't sure what had prompted Emma to change so much and pursue such a futile endeavor, but I was going to get it out to her. She was my friend and no one was going to take that away. Not even Emma herself.
Meanwhile, she scoffed in response, but did actually seem lost for words for a bit. In fact, it took her long enough to answer that I'd almost brought up another subject to natter on about when she finally opened her mouth.
"You really believe that, don't you?" She smiled nastily. Oh, this was going to be good. The kind of response that was the difference between Emma and that girl from this morning. "Your confidence would be admirable if it weren't so misplaced, Taylor. I'd almost be worried for you, because it'll make things even more painful when you realize the truth, but I guess you wouldn't take me seriously anyway, so I won't bother."
I gave her a dreamy smile, but didn't respond.
"What's with that weird look?" she demanded.
"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how cute you are with all the backhanded compliments and veiled insults. You're really talented."
Her face went through several expressions of confusion, but before she could muster up a response, the teacher started the class, drawing our attention away from each other.
Madison froze, awkwardly holding the carton of juice in both hands, ready to squeeze it.
I brought the full force of my gaze to bear.
"Eep!"
She turned and got ready to bolt.
"Stay."
She did.
I caught up to her, and she fell in line with me – although I had to measure my steps somewhat.
She started to apologize.
"Shh-sh-sh," I said, shutting her up.
"That, uhm, that was a bad idea, wasn't it?"
"It was," I agreed. "But at least you realized that, didn't you?" I gave her a smile.
She nodded frantically.
"No harm, no foul," I said, patting her shoulder. "You just got carried away by Emma."
"What's the deal with the two of you?" Madison asked.
"Honestly? I'm not sure," I said with a half-shrug. "She seems to have decided she wants to bully me, even though we've been friends all our lives."
"When you put it like that, that's kind of a dick move," Madison observed.
"And now you're forgetting that you were about to participate in said bullying," I pointed out.
"But I didn't," she said defensively.
"Only because you realized it wouldn't end well for you. But you misunderstood me, about Emma. It's cute what she's trying to do, but it's never, ever going to work. And I don't understand for the life of me how she didn't realize that before ever starting this, specifically because she's known me for this long. And that's what I meant when I made that remark."
I snorted. "Unless she's got some kind of crush on Sophia and is trying to impress her this way?"
Madison giggled.
"I mean, if you ask me, Sophia is absolutely adorable," I continued, drawing a surprised look from Madison, "but my standards for that aren't really average."
"You're… kind of weird," Madison said. "Um, but like, not in a mean way. I mean, I didn't mean it in a mean way. Or, um… ugh." She made a very undignified noise at the way she'd tied her tongue up.
"I get it," I said with some amusement. "Thing is, Emma has always been the one with a lot of friends who spent all her time social networking, meanwhile I'd stick to her and maybe one or two others. It's as if she's forgotten that's not because I'm bad at social interaction, but because I don't bother with it as much.
"But if it's needed? I can be absolutely vicious, as I've already had to show quite a few girls this year. As you actually saw coming before you crossed the line, unlike the others. Not to mention I tend to just find the attempts amusing. And while I don't care about those idiots, because if you're going to bully someone you don't deserve any mercy, I do worry about Emma, if I'm being honest. She's my friend, after all."
"She doesn't seem to want to be friends with you anymore," Madison observed. It wasn't a criticism.
"And yet, she needs me more than ever. I get the appeal of wanting to be on top of the social pyramid, intellectually at least, but the way Emma is doing it right now isn't healthy. Or nice."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Madison asked. "Aren't you worried I'll just run to Emma and tell her?"
"Go ahead, if that's what you want – she should already know it. I'm telling you because I like being able to talk to someone, and you seem to be the only one in this shithole of a school who actually understands me right now. Normally that would be Emma, but, well, that's the problem, right?"
"I don't think I understand you. At all."
I gave her a genuine smile. "Maybe not to the degree Emma should, but that's because we've only known each other for a few weeks. But you did show the instinctive understanding that emptying that carton over my clothes was a capital letters Bad Idea. That's more than most of this school manages after they've had some encouragement from Emma. So, you've been promoted to my confidante."
"Um. Thanks?"
"No problem," I laughed. When I reached over to fuss her hair, she went beet red. "And it doesn't hurt that you look so cute."
Sophia pushed me up against a wall.
"You need to shut up for once," she hissed, no doubt referring to our exchange from before she got physical.
I gave her a vaguely amused look. "It's hardly like I can't stop talking, you know. But if you talk to me, why wouldn't I respond?"
"Because you don't talk back to your betters, and certainly not like that."
"Well, okay," I said, bringing my hand up and lightly placing it on her waist.
She immediately batted it away. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I'm running out of ways to tell you that you're cute without repeating myself, so I'm trying to find other methods to communicate that."
Her finger practically poked my breastbone. "I. Am. Not. Cute. You. Weirdo."
"Whatever you say, Sophie."
I grabbed her arm out of the air before she could slap me in the face. "Cute and spicy," I grinned. "If you don't mind, I'm almost late for class."
I pushed her aside, dodged the obvious strike that came after I turned my back to her, and walked away, leaving Sophia to stumble in full view of the classmates that had been watching.
Bad form, Sophia. Never assume your target is oblivious to your intentions.
"Hey, Mads."
"Hey."
"Sophie."
Growl.
"Ems."
"What are you doing here?"
"Nine out of ten, that expression of disgust is very well-crafted." I sorted out everything on my tray and started eating.
"Are you a masochist, Taylor?" Emma asked.
I looked at her as I considered the question, briefly tilting my head. "Not when it comes to physical pain. Psychological pain? No clue, in order to figure that out someone would have to hurt me first. Can't say that's happened yet."
Madison giggled.
"Do you think you're funny?" Sophia demanded.
I shrugged. "Wasn't particularly trying to. I'm pretty sure it amused Madison though."
All eyes turned to the girl in question, who quickly adopted a blank look. "No clue what she's talking about."
Emma shrugged, apparently having practically zero interest in being mean to someone who wasn't me. Well, that was a good thing at least.
"I'm pretty sure there's just something wrong with Taylor," she said to Sophia in a voice quite a bit louder than needed. Meant for not just me, but also the adjacent tables to hear. "I don't know how I never noticed it before, really."
I snorted. "Did you really forget about that girl two grades above us in elementary school?"
Emma ignored me, so I started retelling the story to Madison, making sure I was talking loudly enough that the people at the adjacent table, who were now listening in, could follow it, without being as obvious about it as Emma.
Then again, that was something of an unfair comparison, as I already had their attention, precisely thanks to what Emma had done.
In short, a girl had attempted to bully me and Emma, and I'd shut her down in much the same way I had been shutting down Emma and Sophia ever since high school started.
Though with a bit less calling her cute. I blamed puberty on that one.
"She lives in a fantasy world, I think," Emma told Sophia. Still talking about me, of course.
"Now you're just projecting," I said.
Emma blinked, clearly needing a moment to process the statement. "And what, exactly, are you implying with that, you skinny frog?"
Did I mention she'd started coming up with insults about my appearance? Come on, Emma, I'm lesbian and you know it, if I want to know whether I'm attractive all I have to do is look in the mirror.
I opened my mouth to give a rather sarcastic response, but paused when I realized this was Emma I was talking to. Not just one of the many random bullies I'd shut up recently. I didn't want to just verbally obliterate Emma. Sure, it would get her off my back, but it'd also end our friendship.
"See? She doesn't have a clue what she's talking about."
"You got me there, in my one moment of weakness," I said with a chuckle. "I've said this before, but I'm really not trying to make fun of you when I'm telling you that you're very good at this kind of thing, Emma." I reached over and patted her hand, which she jerked away.
I smiled. "It's still kind of adorable that you really seem to believe you can hurt me like this, though."
"Why are you so obsessed with calling anything I do cute or adorable?" she asked snidely.
"Because it kind of is," I said frankly. "You're like a two year old that's trying to prepare their own food. Your dedication is immense, and while the execution is somewhat lacking, it doesn't really hurt anyone, so there's no need to get mad about it."
"…"
Wow.
Had I just left Emma speechless in a verbal spar?
I mean, I was no slouch in that department, but neither was Emma, and usually I'd expect at least some reply from her, even if it might not be adequate.
Just then, she restarted with a splutter, and her face turned red. Wait, she was losing her calm?
Damn, there must be some deeper issue here that I hadn't been aware of. But maybe this could be the first step towards doing something about it.
Emma threw her remaining food all over me, then stormed off angrily, Sophia following right behind her.
I glanced at my ruined clothes, then to Emma's retreating form.
"Well, that wasn't very nice."
Madison lost her self-control and started howling with laughter.
Sophia roughly pushed me up against a wall.
Again.
This had to be at least a weekly occurrence.
"If you want to talk to me you can just say so, you know," I remarked with some amusement.
"I am going to make this very clear," she growled, ignoring my comment. "You are not welcome at our table, and you stay away from Emma unless she approaches you. Got it?"
"Sophie…" I sighed as I slowly shook my head. She snarled. "I'm glad to see you care so much about her, I really am. But I only have Emma's best interests in mind. She's my best friend and I'll do anything for her. Even if she's behaving a little oddly at the moment."
"How about you stop backtalking to her then, hm?" Sophia demanded.
I put my hand on her waist again. She shook it off. "Emma is one of those people who needs a bit of resistance every now and then so that she doesn't get carried away," I explained calmly. "I know her. I've been wondering for some time, and with the way she reacted yesterday I'm now sure that there's something deeper. And I'm going to keep bugging her about it until she acknowledges it and lets herself move on."
Sophia scoffed. "Sentimental tripe. Emma is fine, you're just mad she has new friends."
"Like you?" I asked. "I wouldn't mind being friends with you too, you know," I said, playing up a bit of a smirk as I moved my hand back to Sophia's waist. "It's not as if people can only have one friend at a time."
She batted my hand away. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you weirdo?"
"I'm sorry," I said with a playful undertone. "I fear I've caught a terminal case of cuteness appreciation. Which I'm sure there's a fancy Latin term for to make it sound more medical."
"I. Am. Not. Cute," Sophia hissed in my face once more.
"Sophie… cuteness is in the eye of the beholder. I like your spice, I like your attitude – although I'll admit you should probably tone it down towards the less resilient people sometimes – and I like your straightforwardness. I like you." My lips turned into another smirk. "And you don't get a say in that. Deal with it."
She gave an annoyed sigh, then backed away. "I'm too tired to deal with this shit. Fuck off."
I chuckled as I resumed my way. "You're the one who approached me, you know."
As the track field came into view, I just saw Sophia walk over to a bench after finishing her exercise, where she grabbed and mostly downed a bottle of water.
Perfect timing, then. By the time I arrived at the same bench, she'd caught her breath.
"Hey Sophie," I greeted, sitting down.
"The fuck are you doing here?"
"I'm thinking of joining one of the teams," I said. Mostly because I was somewhat concerned that the girl I was talking to right now might actually genuinely hurt me at some point, upon which she'd rapidly stop being cute and start being annoying instead, and I wanted to avoid that, but I wasn't going to tell her that.
"No one fucking wants you here."
"Do you think track would fit me? I'd say I have the right body type for it, don't I?"
Despite still recovering from her exercise, she turned to me and got into my face. "I repeat, Hebert, no one fucking wants you here. You'd just drag the team down. We need fighters, not weaklings."
I responded with an indulgent smile. "Are you still going on about that? You won't need to worry about that, Sophie. I've never been one to do things by half, and I'm not planning on starting now."
"Stop. Fucking. Calling. Me. That," she growled.
I smirked. "Why? A cute girl deserves a cute nickname." Okay, I'll admit that at this point I was deliberately trying to get a rise on her. I guess maybe I was getting addicted to her cuteness?
"Fuck you."
I bit my tongue to avoid asking the obvious question – 'is that an invitation?'. That probably wouldn't go over well at this point, and frankly?
I kind of wanted to see where this was going long-term.
"So anyway, could you give me an overview of the schedule and things like that for track?"
"Why do you have to bother me with this shit? Fuck off and go talk to the coach. Just don't cry when he tells you it's too difficult for you. Or do, that'd be funny."
I smirked. "Wait. You, Sophia Hess, are actually familiar with the concept of amusement?"
She squirted the water bottle at me, which just made me laugh more.
"I swear, fuck off, Hebert. I have far too much to do to deal with your annoying bullshit as well."
She got up – how rude, we were in the middle of a conversation – and started grabbing her things when I heard a new voice.
"Hey Sophia, I was wonder—what is she doing here?"
Emma, predictably, gave me her best look of disgust.
"Being a nuisance," Sophia answered for me.
I got the impression that Emma tried to find something demeaning to say about me, but gave up. "Anyway, do you want to go do something fun this afternoon?"
"Can't," Sophia said. "I need to prepare a few things for my job."
Sophia had a job? Huh. She didn't strike me as the type.
Emma's face fell, but she didn't even protest. "Alright then." She glanced at me, then turned back to Sophia. "Good luck with that."
"Yeah, thanks," Sophia said before leaving in the direction of the changing rooms.
Emma turned to me.
"You should probably be thanking Sophia for being patient enough to not hit you in the face."
"That would have been kinda rude," I responded easily.
"Knowing how you usually clown around, you probably deserve it, you know."
"I find her enjoyable company, most of the time." Not necessarily pleasant, but certainly enjoyable.
"You're just a total waste of oxygen, aren't you?"
I frowned. "Bit of a non sequitur, Emma. And I'm afraid I can't give it more than a four out of ten for creativity, either."
"Look at you, going back to that dumb rating coping mechanism again. Just admit that it's true."
"I'm going to be completely honest here, Emma. I don't know what you're trying, but I'm incredibly surprised you thought it was going to work. You know me, right? You've watched me deal with nasty comments for years. More than once, after we were home, you'd clutch on to me and look to comfort me because of the terrible things someone had said that no doubt hurt me even if I didn't show it, only for me to reply that I thought it was kind of amusing. What makes you think it'd be any different with you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, seeming a little defensive. "I'm only showing the truth to your face. I never should've pretended otherwise in the first place. If anything, that was mean of me, giving you false hope like that."
I snorted. "Okay, I'll admit, that one was pretty creative."
"What, does that mean you felt bad about it?"
She almost sounded hopeful. Weird.
"No, not really. I was just appreciating the creativity. Though… I guess it's an obvious follow-up to claiming you never wanted to be my friend, huh?" I made a thinking face. "Maybe it's not as inventive as I thought at first, because that one is easy to prepare ahead of time."
Emma scoffed. "Do you really think I'm going to waste my free time thinking about what I'm going to say to you, of all people?"
"Considering how eager you are to talk to me at any opportunity? Yeah, kind of."
"Stop living in your fantasy world."
"I'm not the one living in a fantasy world here, Emma. You've been failing to get a rise out of me for weeks. It's cute, but by this point it's also getting a little repetitive and boring. It hasn't worked, it's not working, it's not going to work. And I'm pretty sure you know that, deep down."
"That's not true!" Emma responded with a surprising amount of heat, making me realize that somehow, that seemed to be the touchy subject for her. It was the same thing that had made her throw her food over me last week.
"Yes it is," I said, finally standing up. "Emma, you've watched me find amusement in bullying attempts for years. Did you make it a challenge for yourself to try and get past that, or something? See if it was a coping mechanism after all? Because if so, I'm afraid I have to tell you that no, it's not." I smirked. "Just look at me and Sophia. You think I'd have sat down on that bench if I was just deflecting? Nah, I'd have gone straight to the coach to learn more about what joining track would mean. I like Sophia. She's incredibly cute, in particular if she's angry. This is just who I am."
Emma seemed to be shaking, although I wasn't sure with what emotion, until suddenly her face contorted in rage and she charged at me.
I responded as quickly as I could, grabbing her arms before she had a chance to punch me properly, although that still left me having to deal with her kicks against my shins. I forced her arms down despite her struggles, taking two, three kicks in the process, then put my arms around her in something that was half a hug and half a hold to stop her from moving her own arms.
At the same time, I tried to step forward and lock our legs together, which worked when her next kick went in between my legs, allowing me to hook my knee into hers.
It was a somewhat awkward and close – almost to the point of intimate – position, but she was neutralized.
Then she bit me, and I finally lost my calm, briefly breaking the hold on her arms to cuff her on the head.
"Don't do that again, or you'll regret it," I hissed venomously.
"Why are you like this?" Emma wailed, and I wasn't sure if it was in anger, despair or pain. "I just—I don't—I want to—"
Despair, I decided.
I moved my leg back – the position was kind of awkward otherwise – and turned the half-hug into an actual hug, ignoring how she immediately went back to bruising my shins.
"Shhh, it's going to be okay, Emma. Everything's going to be fine."
"No it won't be!" she screamed.
"Yes it will," I objected, pushing her head into my shoulder. "I'm not sure what's got you so worked up, but I'm going to help you get through it. Best friends, Emma. Always."
"No you're not!" she responded, her voice bordering on the hysterical. "You've been screwing it up for weeks! I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I HATE YOU!"
I pulled her closer to me, and suddenly… the dam broke. She collapsed into me and started crying.
Carefully, I guided her to the bench I'd been sitting on and sat both of us down, Emma now clutching onto me like a lifeline.
She continued sobbing while we sat there, one minute, then two, and I continued to comfort her, making the appropriate noises and gently rubbing her shoulder, while I ignored the pain still coming from my shins – I could deal with that if Emma needed it.
"I'm so weak," Emma whimpered, the first thing she'd said.
"No, you aren't," I responded reflexively.
"I am!" she insisted. "I'm pathetic, I'm worthless, I can't do anything right."
"Oh, Emma," I lamented as my heart lurched. "Who told you such nonsense?"
"I just wanted to show that I'm strong," she continued. "And, and if I could get a reaction out of you, make you angry or make you cry just once, that'd be enough because I know how resilient you are, but… but you just keep shrugging everything off. I'm worthless. I know everything about you and I still can't hurt you, that's how pathetic I am."
"Emma… strength isn't breaking other people. Strength is not letting other people break you." I forced her to look at me. "Are you going to let other people break you?"
We met eyes for a moment, before she let out a sob and clutched onto me as she started crying again, with renewed vigor.
"They already broke me," she wailed.
And then, bit by bit, the story came out. How she and her father had been ambushed by the ABB. How terrified she'd been, and how Shadow Stalker had saved her at the last moment. How she'd hidden in her room. How, when she'd finally dared leave the house again, she'd met Sophia. What Sophia had told her, about being strong. About strong people and weak people.
And then, the plan formed. Emma wanted to prove that she was strong, that her act of resistance with the ABB wasn't a fluke. And to do so, she wanted to get a reaction out of me, because that would make her stronger than me, and I was the strongest person she knew. Unlike what she'd insisted on over the last month, when she kept saying one way or another that I was weak, as if she were trying to make it true by repeating it over and over, and elevating herself in the process. Apparently, much of Sophia's antagonism stemmed from that as well, as Emma had insisted to her that I was weak.
"And a part of you was thinking it might be easier if she was also working to erode my self-confidence?" I asked.
Emma hesitated, then nodded. "I think so."
"Oh, Emma. Poor, foolish Emma. My dear friend." I contemplated what to say next. "I'm always here for you, Emma. Don't bottle things up like that, don't keep your struggles from me. You can get through it, through anything, and I'm here to help you, every step of the way. We'll figure something out."
"But why?" she asked.
"Because you're my friend. Isn't that enough?"
"So, what—what are we going to do?"
I considered the question.
"I'm thinking we're going to start off by going home together and watching a nice movie while hanging on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in our hands. And after that… we'll see."
Emma nodded. "That sounds as good as anything."
I foresaw a lot of talking in our future. With one another, with our parents, and maybe, if I was being honest, even with a therapist. But this was a start.
"What the hell did you do to Emma?" Sophia demanded the next morning.
I was, once more, pushed up against a wall.
"I showed her friendship," I responded, unfazed. "Through the good times, and the bad ones. She told me what happened while I was gone, you know. I'm glad you were there for her while I couldn't be, even if she latched onto your philosophy a little too much."
Sophia scoffed. "Too much? You're just weak, Hebert. Admit it."
I smiled and put my hand on her waist, intending to reveal why Emma had convinced Sophia of that in the first place. However, the moment I touched her, she flinched.
It wasn't the 'get your hands off of me' annoyed response she'd shown previously. No, this one was instinctive.
"Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice suddenly filled with concern.
She narrowed her eyes in anger. "None of your business, Hebert."
"Hell yes it is," I rebutted. "I care about you, Sophia. I don't like seeing you hurt."
She scoffed. "Just some E88 idiot. Trust me, he got off worse."
"Hah." I grinned despite myself. "I'm willing to believe that." After a moment, I put my other arm around her upper back in a brief half-hug. "He probably deserved that and more, well done."
Sophia's expression was complicated, though I was pretty sure there was some imperfectly hidden embarrassment in there.
"I still don't like seeing you hurt though. Be careful, this city is dangerous for black people, and girls in particular."
She scoffed, regaining her earlier nonchalance. "I know that."
"If you're ever in any kind of trouble, I'll do my best to help you out, Sophia."
That seemed to confuse her, although her expression turned calculating after a moment. I didn't bother figuring out what she was thinking, however, instead slipping away and heading off to my next class.
"I'll see you later, Sophie."
"Bitch!"
"How are you doing, Emma?"
She averted her gaze as I sat down next to her in the cafeteria, so I grabbed her hand.
"Hey, no sulking allowed."
"I'm sorry," she responded. "I just… it's been a lot."
"Did I hear that right?"
"Oh, hey Mads," I greeted as the brunette sat down. "Did you hear what right?"
"Emma saying sorry? And to you of all people?"
"We had a heart-to-heart yesterday," I responded evasively. "Emma has been a bit of a fool and kept some important things to herself even though it was eating her up inside."
Madison stared at us for a second, then nodded. "I won't pry."
"Thanks."
"Why the fuck are you two holding hands?" Sophia demanded as she approached.
Emma and I both glanced down, then let go.
"Just comforting my friend a bit," I responded, shielding Emma. I grinned. "You don't need to be worried about competition, Sophie."
Her eyes narrowed. "Competition for what?"
"My affections, duh."
Madison blinked in confusion, then sent me a shrewd look.
Sophia, meanwhile, stared at me. "I don't even fucking want to know."
"Well, come sit down," I invited. "Unless you'd rather eat while standing?"
"You're weird."
"Thank you."
Madison giggled, although she silenced herself quickly when Sophia turned her gaze upon her.
"Well," I said before the silence could turn awkward, "anyone had anything interesting happen in class today? Mine were completely sleep-inducing, if I'm being honest."
Luckily, Madison had something to get the conversation started.
Push. Shove.
"Why the fuck are you joining the track team?"
I glanced at Sophia's arms on either side of me, forcing me to stay where I was against the wall.
I smirked at her. "Is 'there's a cute girl on the track team' not enough reason?"
"No," she growled. "No, it isn't."
I couldn't help but smile. She was just so… ugh. It was hard to find words that could properly express the things she made me feel when she acted all aggressive like that. Like a kitten enthusiastically fighting a ball of yarn.
I placed my hands on her waist. "Well, I also want to exercise some more, and I figured I've got a good body for running, don't you agree?"
She scoffed. "You're a stick."
I smirked. "Then I better start training soon, right? But I've got the long legs already."
"I think you're just fucking with me."
"Nope, genuinely not," I responded. Although I had to admit that Sophia doing track was part of the reason why I joined this team in particular. "That would be unfair to the coach and all my teammates, Sophie."
She growled again, getting into my face. "Stop calling me that, bitch."
I smirked. "No."
In response, she actually bared her teeth at me. I almost cooed, it was so adorable.
Instead, I went for a brief hug and then released her. "I'll see you soon, Sophie. Just gotta get to class now."
"Fuck you, Hebert."
"You're limping."
"Fuck off."
"No, I won't. What is it with you, Sophia? Yes, I'm using your full name, I want your attention. This is what, at least the third time this year that you have an injury. That I know of. And it's barely even November! What's going on?"
"None of your business," she growled.
I glanced around the cafeteria. "Look, if you don't want to say it in public, I get that. Let's go somewhere else."
I turned and made for the door, only to realize Sophia wasn't following, and Emma was undecided.
So I went back to grab Sophia's arm and started tugging her along. And even though she gave an indignant squawk, she let me. Under protest, that is. And a few expletives and insults, but that was part of what made her so cute in the first place.
I pulled her into an empty classroom, Emma following behind.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on?"
"I don't have to tell you anything," Sophia bristled.
"Maybe you should," Emma suggested. "It's not like Taylor is going to tell anyone. Right, Taylor?"
I frowned. "That depends on whether anyone needs to be told. If someone's hurting Sophie…"
"I'm not a fucking baby! I can take care of myself. Also, stop calling me that!"
"Then stop being so damn cute."
"I'm not cute," she hissed aggressively. Okay, fair enough, she was definitely crossing the line into adorable territory right now.
I was still concerned about her limp though.
"So what is going on that's got you limping, but apparently under your control?" I asked, putting a healthy dose of doubt in my tone for those last few words. "It's not your home life, is it?"
She scoffed. "No. Steven's an ass, but he wouldn't dare to do this."
"So who would?"
"Some E88 thug," she replied evasively.
I gave her a very skeptical look. "Again? What, are you looking for them on purpose or something?"
Sophia gave me a defiant look.
"You should tell her," Emma repeated.
Apparently, Emma already knew.
"Why should I?" Sophia responded.
"Taylor has done much more to show you that she can be trusted than I'd shown you when you told me."
"Taylor is also a stupid dork and a weakling." Derisive tone or not, I was impressed that she actually used my first name.
"That's not true and you know it," Emma said hotly, coming to my defense. "The only reason you think so is because I told you that back in summer, and I've already told you I was being stupid and trying to make you hate Taylor!"
"Don't bother, Emma, I'm sure Sophia has a good understanding of me at this point," I said, though I gave my friend a smile.
"Alright, fine," Sophia relented. "But if anyone else hears about this, you're dead, Hebert. I'm not exaggerating here."
I nodded, but didn't respond. I wasn't entirely sure whether it really was this serious or whether she was exaggerating after all, but I could withhold judgement on that until I'd actually heard it.
"I'm a cape."
My eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oookay. Yeah, I can see why you don't want anyone else to know that." I thought for a moment, and suddenly the puzzle pieces fit together. "You're Shadow Stalker!"
"What? How the fuck?"
"That's why you got to know Emma," I reasoned. "She'd been rather vague about that when she told me, but it makes total sense now. Actually, I could've probably figured that out before. Guess I just didn't expect someone I'd met myself to be a cape, huh. So, what, you've been going out and fighting crime, and that's where you've been getting injured?"
"Yeah," Sophia said, sounding like she was sulking somewhat.
"Well, I guess that's a better reason than I expected. Good on you, Sophie, I'm proud of you."
"Yeah, well, maybe stop using that stupid nickname then," she mumbled irritably.
I gave her a quick hug, not giving her the time to interrupt it or comment on it. "Never. Keep it up, Sophia. And if you ever need help, just tell me." I started making my way to the door.
"I swear, you're such a baby."
"If you say so, babe," I said, winking at her.
I heard her splutter something to Emma just before I left the classroom and started walking back to the cafeteria. I figured Sophia would require a few moments to compose herself before they followed me.
Teasing her was just so much fun.
Sophia roughly grabbed me by the upper arms to push me back.
I took one step to balance myself, then refused to budge.
"What the…?"
I smirked. "You don't have to push me into a wall every time you want a hug, Sophie. You can just ask for it. Or even just go for the hug."
"I don't want to hug you," she denied.
I put my arms around her. "Sure you don't. And you certainly don't seek me out like this practically every day, hm?"
She grumbled something unintelligible, but her arms slowly snuck up to return the hug.
I snorted quietly, our heads on each other's shoulders. "Yeah, I thought so. Finally done with the posturing, huh?"
"I don't posture."
I smirked.
"Stop smirking."
"How do you even know I'm smirking?" I teased. "You can't see my face."
"I know what you're doing, you insufferable dork."
"And you enjoy it."
"No, I don't. I hate you," she said as she snuggled deeper into her favorite spot in my neck.
"From you, I'll consider that the declaration of love that it is."
She shot out of the hug. "The what?"
"You heard me the first time," I said smugly.
She gave me a completely flabbergasted look, which was arguably even more adorable than her aggression.
So I leaned forward and placed a brief kiss on her lips. "You're my girlfriend now."
With one last grin at Sophia, I turned and walked away, towards my next class.
I was almost around the corner when she called out.
"I'm your what now?"
"You heard me!" I called back.
After a moment of hesitation, I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed, and smirked at her as she walked up to me in a daze.
"Are you, like… are you fucking with me?" she asked. For once, she wasn't being aggressive.
"No, I'm not," I said, pulling her into another, shorter, embrace. "You are incredibly cute, as I've been telling you ever since we first met, and I like you a lot."
"But I've been giving you shit the entire time."
"And it has entertained me for just as long. You're stuck with me, Sophie. Deal with it."
She averted her face in what I was pretty sure was embarrassment.
I grasped her hand as I waited for her to gather herself.
"How the fuck did you end up in charge?" It was a genuine question.
I smirked, radiating amusement. "It's a skill. Honestly, you should blame Emma, she misled you completely about me. You had no way to know what you were getting into."
Sophia hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and snuggled into my chest.
I put my arms around her, one up on her head to play with her hair. "Though from what I can tell, you don't particularly mind."
"No," she admitted. "I guess I don't."
I placed a kiss on her scalp. "Mine."
Sophia just mumbled contently.
All was good.
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Omake: Cute - Alternate Scene
Alternate version of the Madison scene:
Madison: *sets off to bully Taylor by emptying a carton of juice on her, but stays her hand when confronted with Taylor's domme aura*
Taylor: *promotes Madison to confidante because of her self-preservation skills*
Madison: *confused minion noises*
Madison: *sets off to bully Taylor by emptying a carton of juice on her, but stays her hand when confronted with Taylor's domme aura*
Taylor: *promotes Madison to confidante because of her self-preservation skills*
Madison: *confused minion noises*