A few hours after the locker, something happens to Taylor's power. A trigger, except the requirements aren't in place. Her powers change completely from those she'd originally received, and it's not conflict that drives her; it's a desire to collect and lead parahumans. But for what, she isn't sure.
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1.1 Awakening
AN: And here it is, as promised in the oneshots thread, a Worm longfic! No update schedule for now, though I do have a few chapters pre-written and a good idea of where to take the story.
This work is also available on Fanfiction.net, Archiveofourown and SufficientVelocity, if you prefer one of those sites.
21/10/2023 edit: The opening scene of this chapter has been rewritten as the old version was of low quality. If you wish to read the old version, you can find it under the Apocrypha tag on SpaceBattles.
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.
Amy removed the pathogens and other toxic contaminants from the girl's blood to avoid further complications, and finished off by healing her cuts. The black-haired teen – Amy's age – had already been thoroughly cleaned and showered by a nurse when she'd arrived at the hospital, yet Amy still thought she could smell whatever nasty biological waste she'd been exposed to.
Quite frankly, she did not want to know anything more. The hospital was always a gallery of the stupidest, most disgusting and most fucked up things humanity could conceive of, and there were already far too many people who told her about those things when she had not volunteered and was not volunteering to hear about them.
Though she hated herself for thinking it, she was kind of glad that the girl had gone through a trigger event this morning – that meant she likely didn't want to talk about it. Though, with the way the parts of the brain that were processing information were buzzing, she suspected the girl wasn't going to wake up for several more days in the first place, even now that she was completely healed. Amy figured she probably had some kind of power that gave her more sensory inputs.
Then, Amy briefly lost consciousness, though she hadn't even planted her face on the girl's bed before it returned. The memory faded too quickly for her to make sense of, but that didn't matter to her.
Amy had gone through this exact feeling before. A trigger event. Befuddled, she reached out to the girl on the bed and checked the information she received about her brain.
It didn't add up.
Her brain was far quieter now than it had been, no longer processing a flood of information, and Amy could only assume that this was because the girl had indeed been the one to trigger – second trigger, presumably. Rare, but possible. However, second triggers were said to require situations very similar to the first trigger.
Not only was there no such situation, but the girl wasn't showing any fresh trauma. Sure, there were some lingering traces from the trauma she'd gone through this morning, but that was all.
Also, she was about to wake up.
Amy backed off, standing next to the bed and trying to avoid showing a threatening posture.
Strange lights and incomprehensible noises invaded my senses. The constant torrent was overwhelming, unending. Amidst the impressions, a reduction in pain signals was barely noticeable, even when they were more vivid and familiar than the other constant pain signals, here and there and everywhere, like tiny pinpricks in the overwhelming whole. Because no matter how frequent, they were still negligible compared to the other sensations. Lights and sounds and feelings and smells and everything at once.
Then, an interruption.
And suddenly, all those sensations were gone. Before my mind had learned to comprehend them, they had been cut off, like they had never existed.
I stirred, realizing I was in an unfamiliar bed. I blinked against the lights, and as I looked around I realized I was in a hospital. To one side, a few steps away from my bed, was a person-shaped blur of white and red that I managed to interpret as Panacea.
"How did I end up here?" I asked out loud, even as memories started to return to me.
"You were covered in numerous cuts and bruises," Panacea said in a clinical voice. "Some of them had become infected, and several STDs had entered your bloodstream through them. I was called in when you developed sepsis."
While she spoke, I had looked around for and found my glasses, which I'd then put on, allowing me to resolve her facial features, partially hidden inside her costume's hood as they were.
Her response seemed somewhat blunt considering I, as her patient, had only just woken up. Then again, it was probably because she disliked spending so much time in the hospital and only using her power for healing.
I slammed the brakes on my thoughts. Where had that come from, and why did I feel so confident that it was right?
The answer was just as natural as the thought had been, and equally strange. My powers gave me an intuitive understanding of powers, apparently including my own, and also provided information about other people that'd help me recruit them.
Okay. Finding out about having powers because your powers are informing you both that they exist and what they can do is seriously weird.
I turned my head to look at Panacea, who seemed to be indecisive about something. "Say, just before I woke up I was having all these strange sensations. Flashing lights, weird noises, just all kinds of incomprehensible things. But all of that is gone now. Do you know anything about that?"
Panacea sighed in annoyance, then stepped a little closer to the bed. "You triggered and got powers. Your brain was in overdrive for some reason that I thought was related to them. While I was healing you, you second triggered. Your brain was no longer in overdrive. You woke up. No, I won't tell anyone about your powers. Happy?"
"Second trigger?" I asked. "What's that?"
"Usually," Panacea said, still radiating annoyance, "a second trigger occurs when a parahuman encounters a situation very similar to their original trigger event. Here, I don't know why the fuck it happened because you weren't showing any signs of stress or trauma other than the last remnants of whatever did cause your trigger this morning."
Despite her disposition, I could tell she was intrigued by that.
"Weird," I commented in an attempt to strike up a conversation. The motivation for that was two-fold, I realized. Part of it was because my power was pushing me to use it, which was apparently something it was willing to let me know through my intuition about how it worked, which I found kind of surprising. And part of it was my own doing, albeit influenced by what I learned from my power. Namely, Panacea seemed to be lonely, just like me.
"What do you think could've caused that?" I asked.
"No fucking clue," Panacea said. "You don't seem surprised that you have powers."
I considered that. "I think it's because they seem to come with an intuitive understanding of them," I said. It was a rather varied collection, when I thought about it. There was the part that helped me understand powers and – to a degree – people, but there was also another surprisingly unrelated part to it, which I wouldn't be able to analyze properly until doing so wouldn't give it away to someone I barely knew.
"You mean that you know how to use them?" Panacea said. "That's normal."
"No," I said. "It's more… part of my power seems to be that I get an intuitive understanding of powers in general. Mostly meant for others, but it also works on my own power."
I hesitated. I was certainly feeling a push here, and my intuition – which was almost certainly augmented by my power – told me this would probably work, but it was still something of a risk. If Panacea reacted wrong, I'd probably forever lose the chance to get on her good side.
In the end, it was a very subtle feeling that something didn't match up about her power – beyond the obvious that I was about to state – that pushed me to take my chance.
"For example," I said, "my power tells me that yours is much more versatile than just healing."
Amy froze.
"I don't know what you mean by that."
That was some very dangerous information for a stranger to have. She reassessed the girl, who was still lying on the bed.
"Don't get me wrong," the girl said. "I think it's admirable that you decided to become a healer." She gave a small smile. "Most of the other ways you could've advertised yourself probably wouldn't have gone over nearly as well."
"No," Amy said, practically on autopilot as she considered the ramifications and tried not to panic. "No, I guess not."
"I'm not planning on telling anyone. Don't worry about that. You're doing great work, that shouldn't change just because some people can't tell the difference between a supervillain and a hero that's trying to help others and decide to raise a stink."
Assuming Amy wouldn't one day snap from all the pressure put on her. But at least the girl's assurance that she wouldn't spread anything around did help her not panic.
"You should probably experiment a bit more, though," the girl continued a moment later.
Amy's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"
"That you should actually use the powers you have for something that isn't healing on occasion."
"What, and reveal the exact thing I've been keeping hidden, which you said was a good idea?" Amy sniped.
"I never said you should create a species of man-eating super-mantises that overruns Brockton Bay. Just, you know… try out something new every now and then. Figure out how to make a tropical plant grow in our weather. Recolor an insect to have better urban camouflage. Things like that."
"Yeah. No, thanks," Amy said dismissively. That was a dangerous road to go down. Too dangerous.
The girl remained silent for several seconds, and Amy was about to say her goodbyes when she spoke up again.
"I'm still really new to this powers thing, but I'm getting the idea, from both you and myself, that powers want to be used. In new ways, if possible. I don't know, I just think it might improve your mood. Plus, I just think it'd be fun, you know? To fiddle around with things a bit. You don't need to create a crime against the natural order just because you can. You can also just explore why the natural order is the way it is in the first place."
"We've got biologists for that."
"And I'm pretty sure you can tell more about how a biological organism functions than all of them together, just from a touch."
Amy once more considered how to put an end to this conversation. It was touching on some uncomfortable topics, and she simply didn't want her thoughts to go down that road. Not in the least because of how appealing it was. Like whenever Amy's own mind suggested those same things.
"Look, maybe just think about it, okay?" the girl suggested. "Different topic. That second trigger you mentioned. Do you think it'd be a good idea to follow up on that? Meet each other in like, a week from now, and see how things are progressing? I get the feeling that even my own power finds it weird."
"It did your second trigger," Amy pointed out.
"Exactly."
Amy hesitated. That second trigger was one of the more intriguing things she'd come across. If that was what it was in the first place.
"Why do you want to meet up with me so badly?"
"I'll admit I do have a bit of an ulterior motive," the black-haired girl said, confirming Amy's suspicions. "I don't really have any friends right now, and I definitely don't have any parahuman friends. If I'm going to be a parahuman myself, then a heroic-aligned parahuman seems like the best place to start."
"Try talking to my sister," Amy deflected, pretty much reflexively. "She actually likes talking to people all day." She tried ignoring the voice that told her that Vicky was also the only person who was her actual friend, and that she could do with another. She was too busy for that anyway, between school, homework, her healing duties and trying to keep a sane sleep schedule.
"I've never even met your sister and I don't know if I'd have anything in common with her," the girl explained far too reasonably. "Meanwhile I know I've at least got the interest in my second trigger in common with you, plus I'm actually talking to you while I have no way to even contact her. Also, I think I'd rather have a friend who appreciates the quiet every now and then."
Vicky could be quiet. Sometimes. She was better at it than most people believed, at least. Okay, she was definitely an extravert, while Amy was an introvert, but still. She did respect the needs of introverts, Amy included.
Although having someone else to maybe talk to on occasion might actually be nice. Other than Vicky's friends, who never really were Amy's friends; they just talked to her because they were courteous and wouldn't exclude someone who was right there.
Together with the oddness of that trigger, it was enough to make Amy consider it.
"How about we just meet up in a week or so and see if we've got any common ground when, you know, we're not in a hospital with a doctor-patient relationship?"
And then there was the risk that this girl might be trying to take advantage of Amy. On the other hand, there was no way she could've planned being here and talking to Amy in the first place – doubly so because it was a trigger event that led to her going to the hospital – so she'd have had to come up with that plan on the fly, which seemed unrealistic.
Plus, a thought went through Amy's head, perhaps she needed some support in the wake of that same trigger event. Although there was absolutely no fucking way Amy would be the right person to provide that.
But maybe the other arguments were enough. She grabbed her phone.
"Alright, we can meet up once, somewhere in public. But I'm not making any promises about next time. What's your number?"
"Ah," the girl said, seeming a bit embarrassed now. "I uhm, don't have a phone right now. Though I should maybe get one. You know what, if you give me your number, I'll contact you. Either from my new phone, or worst case by landline."
"Oh, uhm, yeah, that's fine," Amy said, scrambling around for pen and paper. Luckily, both were present in her costume's pockets. "What's your name, actually?"
"Taylor Hebert," the girl introduced herself. "And yours? I've probably heard it before, but…"
"Amy Dallon." She handed over a strip of paper, now with her mobile number on it.
"Nice to meet you, even if the circumstances aren't the best," Taylor said. "Do you have any idea how long it'll be before I can go home? Or whether my dad is coming, for that matter?"
"You should be able to go home sometime today, I'll get the doctor to give you a final check-up. As for your relatives, I'm assuming they've been informed, but that's not something I handle."
Taylor nodded. "Well, either way, thanks again for healing me, and I hope things will work out. I'll get in touch with you in the next few days."
Amy nodded, said her good-byes, then stood and left, still feeling conflicted about accepting the invitation to meet up with the girl again. She might talk to Vicky about it. Then again, she already knew that Vicky would be enthusiastically in favor – but maybe it still wasn't a bad idea.
She sighed. She did rely on Vicky too much. It was just so easy and appealing. She talked to the doctor, keeping it down to relevant information only, and then set out to heal the next patient.
"Let's order food for dinner," Dad suggested as we entered the house in the late afternoon – it was just getting dark outside. "I don't think either of us feels up for cooking right now."
I voiced my agreement. I'd told him – in brief terms – about the bullying, mostly because I needed to explain how I'd ended up in the hospital in the first place. However, there was much more left to discuss, and I was starting to assemble a few plans in my head – plans with which Dad might interfere if we didn't discuss things, which meant we'd have to do exactly that. I hadn't even named my bullies yet, as I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to keep Dad from calling Alan if I did, but I wouldn't be able to delay forever.
"Let's sit down," Dad suggested.
I took my favorite place on the couch, mentally reviewing what I wanted out of this conversation.
"There's something I didn't tell you yet," I started.
"You mean apart from who your bullies are?" he asked. I couldn't blame him for not understanding why I was withholding the names for the moment.
"Yes," I said. "Panacea told me after I woke up, though I'd probably have realized it quite quickly myself, but… I got powers, with what happened today."
His eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. "You mean… you're a cape?"
I nodded. "Yeah. That's got to do with the other things I only wanted to talk about now that we're home, as well."
He looked pensive for a second or two. "That's going to require some getting used to. But perhaps, before anything else, I should ask you what your powers can do?"
"I don't quite understand the limits myself yet, but I do have some instinctual understanding."
I stood, checking that I had enough space to my left and right. Things should fit, so long as I was careful. Then, with a mental command, I changed. My body and clothes turned to something that could only be described as solid light, no matter what physics thought of the idea, and two large wings unfurled from my shoulders, almost touching the wall on one side and the window on the other – and I didn't have them extended all the way. My wingspan had to be close to twenty feet. The wings were made from the same solid light as the rest of my body, though they showed a pattern as if they were made from feathers, and every part of my body glowed softly, though it was difficult to see in the late afternoon light of January.
Dad looked at me with wide eyes. "Wow… You definitely look the part of a cape, Taylor."
"Thanks," I said with a smile. My voice had changed with my appearance; I sounded powerful, yet not overbearing, and my intuition told me that a very faint echo was present – though I couldn't discern it through the distortion inherent in hearing my own voice.
Dad returned the smile – and how long it had been since I'd seen him smile. "Is it your power that's making me feel better?"
"Probably," I said. "While I'm in this form, I inspire hope and resolve in my friends and allies, and doubt and fear in my enemies."
"Hope that things might get better…" Dad said softly. "I don't think I realized how much I missed that feeling until now." He refocused. "So can you fly?"
I hovered a foot into the air. "Yes," I replied. "And I don't need my wings for that, though I'll probably use them if I'm outside, just because it feels more appropriate." I held up my hand and formed a sword out of the same solid light that I was currently made of. "I can also make a variety of weapons like this, mostly medieval stuff, I think; no guns, but I can make a bow and arrow. I'm also difficult to hurt or harm, and I heal more quickly."
I changed back to my normal form, gently dropping the foot back down to the ground, and sat down again.
"A very impressive power indeed," Dad said, still working to get over his surprise.
"It's not quite all I can do," I said. "The things I showed you, they only work while I'm in that form. The other stuff… I don't understand it as well as my alternate form, but I think that when it comes down to things, it makes me good at being a leader, or just being in charge of people? It's like… I'm better at figuring out how to convince people to follow me and listen to me, and after that I'm better at decisions like who should do what? I'm not sure, my intuition isn't as clear as it is on the other form I can take."
"Either way, it sounds like parenting you in the future is going to be a breeze, with no difficulties at all," Dad teased. I was pretty sure he was still riding the high from feeling hope for the first time in years.
"Of course," I replied magnanimously. "Also, I think I can recognize other parahumans with it, but I'm not certain of that. It feels right, but maybe the only reason I recognized Panacea as a cape was because I already knew that she was. Oh, right, and I'm pretty sure I can help other parahumans understand their powers better, or something."
"That's… a lot," Danny said. "Don't most parahumans have just one single ability?"
"There's… what are they called?" I snapped my finger a few times, trying to remember. "Oh, right! Grab-bag capes. Maybe that's why? I don't know."
And then there was the bit Panacea had told me, about the weird trigger event or whatever it was in the hospital, and the strange, unfocused sensory inputs I'd received before that. But I kept that bit to myself for now. It would probably only make things more confusing.
Dad asked me what I wanted for dinner and then went to make the phone call, briefly leaving me alone with my thoughts.
"Alright," he said, after hanging up. "With that out of the way, let's talk about what happened at Winslow next."
I nodded. "Yeah. But there's a reason I wanted to tell you about my powers first."
"And that is?" Dad asked.
"I want to know what I can get done myself, using my power," I revealed. I'd considered keeping Dad in the dark on this plan, but I'd decided there was no way he'd leave things alone long enough for me to actually have a chance of executing it, unless he knew about it.
"Explain," he said, seemingly barely refraining from using his Dad Voice.
I took a deep breath. "The main bullies are two girls I've never told you about, Madison Clements and Sophia Hess, and… Emma."
Dad looked shocked for a second before anger overtook his expression. "Emma? As in Alan's daughter?" He practically jumped out of his chair, clearly meaning to give his old friend a call.
"Dad, wait!" I called out.
He took a deep breath and turned to me. "Why?" he asked. "What made her decide to do… this?"
"I don't know," I responded honestly. "But I was thinking, with the power I have now… I might be able to finally figure it out. And maybe… just maybe…" my voice grew small, "maybe I can use it to get old Emma back. My Emma."
I choked down a sob, and just like that my resolve broke. Dad was next to me in a second, holding me as I cried into his chest. And for the first time, in a year and a half, I cried for Emma. Not tears of anger over the hurtful things she said, not tears of grief over my loneliness, not even tears of hate over how she'd ruined my life. No, tears for the friend I'd lost, my sister that had been consumed by a monster wearing her face. Never before had I actually lamented her; first I had been in disbelief, then by the time that wore off, she was already so distant that I thought only of the demon that used me for her own amusement.
Please, I thought to myself, please let her still be alive, somewhere in there. I wasn't sure if I could live with the alternative. It certainly hadn't been a success so far.
There were days Rebecca was incredibly glad for her eidetic memory.
Today was absolutely one of them.
Dozens of cape profiles were freshly burned into her mind, every single cape known to the PRT that operated in Brockton Bay. From big hitters like Armsmaster and Lung to small-time thieves and rogues like Regent and Parian. Even Cauldron's resources had chimed in, with files on Coil – the PRT didn't even know whether he was parahuman – as well as a few other vial recipients.
This morning, Contessa had reported major changes in her active Paths, some growing and others shrinking in length, and she'd determined the source of those changes to be Brockton Bay. Most likely, a newly triggered parahuman that was going to quickly rise to prominence, potentially to the point of removing or taking over one or more of the gangs.
This meant that, when Contessa suddenly video called Rebecca, it didn't exactly do wonders for Rebecca's mood.
She accepted the call, turning her attention to the screen. On the other side, Contessa was of course not doing the same, instead typing away on two keyboards at once and using tinkertech eye-tracking software to operate a third computer. Her feet were likely active as well. Perfect motor control made typing with your toes surprisingly possible.
Rebecca was used to not having eye contact with Contessa during these calls, so she just moved on. "Please tell me it's not Brockton Bay again."
"It's Brockton Bay again," Contessa said.
"Did it start already?" Rebecca asked. That was unlikely, however; if unrest in Brockton Bay was already starting right now, then Contessa would've known about it this morning already, and she'd have told Rebecca. Well, unless her Paths had told her not to.
"No, worse," Contessa said.
Well, fuck.
"Worse?" Rebecca repeated.
"A blind spot appeared in Brockton Bay just earlier this afternoon."
Fuck, indeed.
The total number of blind spots Contessa had across all of Earth Bet could be counted on two hands. Scion, the three Endbringers, Eidolon, Glaistig Uaine, Jack Slash and the Butcher. There were a few more capes that gave her trouble, such as that one leader of the Fallen, but actual blind spots were vanishingly rare. And this was the first one to appear since the Butcher in 1992 – in the same city, in fact. Well, the first one since then unless you counted the Endbringers, but this wasn't one of those.
Or was it?
"Could it be a fourth Endbringer?" Rebecca questioned. She was sure she would've heard something about that already, right? She did a quick check-up. Brockton Bay had sent no distress signals, and neither were normal communications interrupted.
"So far, I haven't seen anything to imply that," Contessa said. For this very reason, she had Paths that would trigger automatically if a blind spot appeared. They would look for sudden cape deaths, large-scale civilian casualties or a number of other, similar things happening in the area near the blind spot.
"Let's hope it stays that way," Rebecca said. "Not that it's worth much, considering all blind spots are major headaches anyway."
"Except Eidolon."
"I said what I said."
The woman giggled. Rebecca sometimes wondered how she could be amused by things when her Path saw everything coming a long time in advance, but when she'd asked, Contessa had given a somewhat vague reply that it 'just worked that way'.
"I'll keep an eye on Brockton Bay," Rebecca said. "If it's not an Endbringer, it has to be a cape unless it's something completely new. That means they'll have to show up in the regular reports at some point, at the latest when they first act in public."
"And blind spots don't have a habit of sitting around doing nothing," Contessa finished her thoughts. "Send all information you gather on them to me immediately so I can start working on the model."
"Of course," Rebecca responded.
Contessa ended the call.
Rebecca sighed. It was amazing how much she could feel like she had a headache even though it was impossible for her to have one. And that on the first day after the Christmas break.
This work is also available on Fanfiction.net, Archiveofourown and SufficientVelocity, if you prefer one of those sites.
21/10/2023 edit: The opening scene of this chapter has been rewritten as the old version was of low quality. If you wish to read the old version, you can find it under the Apocrypha tag on SpaceBattles.
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.
Amy removed the pathogens and other toxic contaminants from the girl's blood to avoid further complications, and finished off by healing her cuts. The black-haired teen – Amy's age – had already been thoroughly cleaned and showered by a nurse when she'd arrived at the hospital, yet Amy still thought she could smell whatever nasty biological waste she'd been exposed to.
Quite frankly, she did not want to know anything more. The hospital was always a gallery of the stupidest, most disgusting and most fucked up things humanity could conceive of, and there were already far too many people who told her about those things when she had not volunteered and was not volunteering to hear about them.
Though she hated herself for thinking it, she was kind of glad that the girl had gone through a trigger event this morning – that meant she likely didn't want to talk about it. Though, with the way the parts of the brain that were processing information were buzzing, she suspected the girl wasn't going to wake up for several more days in the first place, even now that she was completely healed. Amy figured she probably had some kind of power that gave her more sensory inputs.
Then, Amy briefly lost consciousness, though she hadn't even planted her face on the girl's bed before it returned. The memory faded too quickly for her to make sense of, but that didn't matter to her.
Amy had gone through this exact feeling before. A trigger event. Befuddled, she reached out to the girl on the bed and checked the information she received about her brain.
It didn't add up.
Her brain was far quieter now than it had been, no longer processing a flood of information, and Amy could only assume that this was because the girl had indeed been the one to trigger – second trigger, presumably. Rare, but possible. However, second triggers were said to require situations very similar to the first trigger.
Not only was there no such situation, but the girl wasn't showing any fresh trauma. Sure, there were some lingering traces from the trauma she'd gone through this morning, but that was all.
Also, she was about to wake up.
Amy backed off, standing next to the bed and trying to avoid showing a threatening posture.
Strange lights and incomprehensible noises invaded my senses. The constant torrent was overwhelming, unending. Amidst the impressions, a reduction in pain signals was barely noticeable, even when they were more vivid and familiar than the other constant pain signals, here and there and everywhere, like tiny pinpricks in the overwhelming whole. Because no matter how frequent, they were still negligible compared to the other sensations. Lights and sounds and feelings and smells and everything at once.
Then, an interruption.
And suddenly, all those sensations were gone. Before my mind had learned to comprehend them, they had been cut off, like they had never existed.
I stirred, realizing I was in an unfamiliar bed. I blinked against the lights, and as I looked around I realized I was in a hospital. To one side, a few steps away from my bed, was a person-shaped blur of white and red that I managed to interpret as Panacea.
"How did I end up here?" I asked out loud, even as memories started to return to me.
"You were covered in numerous cuts and bruises," Panacea said in a clinical voice. "Some of them had become infected, and several STDs had entered your bloodstream through them. I was called in when you developed sepsis."
While she spoke, I had looked around for and found my glasses, which I'd then put on, allowing me to resolve her facial features, partially hidden inside her costume's hood as they were.
Her response seemed somewhat blunt considering I, as her patient, had only just woken up. Then again, it was probably because she disliked spending so much time in the hospital and only using her power for healing.
I slammed the brakes on my thoughts. Where had that come from, and why did I feel so confident that it was right?
The answer was just as natural as the thought had been, and equally strange. My powers gave me an intuitive understanding of powers, apparently including my own, and also provided information about other people that'd help me recruit them.
Okay. Finding out about having powers because your powers are informing you both that they exist and what they can do is seriously weird.
I turned my head to look at Panacea, who seemed to be indecisive about something. "Say, just before I woke up I was having all these strange sensations. Flashing lights, weird noises, just all kinds of incomprehensible things. But all of that is gone now. Do you know anything about that?"
Panacea sighed in annoyance, then stepped a little closer to the bed. "You triggered and got powers. Your brain was in overdrive for some reason that I thought was related to them. While I was healing you, you second triggered. Your brain was no longer in overdrive. You woke up. No, I won't tell anyone about your powers. Happy?"
"Second trigger?" I asked. "What's that?"
"Usually," Panacea said, still radiating annoyance, "a second trigger occurs when a parahuman encounters a situation very similar to their original trigger event. Here, I don't know why the fuck it happened because you weren't showing any signs of stress or trauma other than the last remnants of whatever did cause your trigger this morning."
Despite her disposition, I could tell she was intrigued by that.
"Weird," I commented in an attempt to strike up a conversation. The motivation for that was two-fold, I realized. Part of it was because my power was pushing me to use it, which was apparently something it was willing to let me know through my intuition about how it worked, which I found kind of surprising. And part of it was my own doing, albeit influenced by what I learned from my power. Namely, Panacea seemed to be lonely, just like me.
"What do you think could've caused that?" I asked.
"No fucking clue," Panacea said. "You don't seem surprised that you have powers."
I considered that. "I think it's because they seem to come with an intuitive understanding of them," I said. It was a rather varied collection, when I thought about it. There was the part that helped me understand powers and – to a degree – people, but there was also another surprisingly unrelated part to it, which I wouldn't be able to analyze properly until doing so wouldn't give it away to someone I barely knew.
"You mean that you know how to use them?" Panacea said. "That's normal."
"No," I said. "It's more… part of my power seems to be that I get an intuitive understanding of powers in general. Mostly meant for others, but it also works on my own power."
I hesitated. I was certainly feeling a push here, and my intuition – which was almost certainly augmented by my power – told me this would probably work, but it was still something of a risk. If Panacea reacted wrong, I'd probably forever lose the chance to get on her good side.
In the end, it was a very subtle feeling that something didn't match up about her power – beyond the obvious that I was about to state – that pushed me to take my chance.
"For example," I said, "my power tells me that yours is much more versatile than just healing."
Amy froze.
"I don't know what you mean by that."
That was some very dangerous information for a stranger to have. She reassessed the girl, who was still lying on the bed.
"Don't get me wrong," the girl said. "I think it's admirable that you decided to become a healer." She gave a small smile. "Most of the other ways you could've advertised yourself probably wouldn't have gone over nearly as well."
"No," Amy said, practically on autopilot as she considered the ramifications and tried not to panic. "No, I guess not."
"I'm not planning on telling anyone. Don't worry about that. You're doing great work, that shouldn't change just because some people can't tell the difference between a supervillain and a hero that's trying to help others and decide to raise a stink."
Assuming Amy wouldn't one day snap from all the pressure put on her. But at least the girl's assurance that she wouldn't spread anything around did help her not panic.
"You should probably experiment a bit more, though," the girl continued a moment later.
Amy's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"
"That you should actually use the powers you have for something that isn't healing on occasion."
"What, and reveal the exact thing I've been keeping hidden, which you said was a good idea?" Amy sniped.
"I never said you should create a species of man-eating super-mantises that overruns Brockton Bay. Just, you know… try out something new every now and then. Figure out how to make a tropical plant grow in our weather. Recolor an insect to have better urban camouflage. Things like that."
"Yeah. No, thanks," Amy said dismissively. That was a dangerous road to go down. Too dangerous.
The girl remained silent for several seconds, and Amy was about to say her goodbyes when she spoke up again.
"I'm still really new to this powers thing, but I'm getting the idea, from both you and myself, that powers want to be used. In new ways, if possible. I don't know, I just think it might improve your mood. Plus, I just think it'd be fun, you know? To fiddle around with things a bit. You don't need to create a crime against the natural order just because you can. You can also just explore why the natural order is the way it is in the first place."
"We've got biologists for that."
"And I'm pretty sure you can tell more about how a biological organism functions than all of them together, just from a touch."
Amy once more considered how to put an end to this conversation. It was touching on some uncomfortable topics, and she simply didn't want her thoughts to go down that road. Not in the least because of how appealing it was. Like whenever Amy's own mind suggested those same things.
"Look, maybe just think about it, okay?" the girl suggested. "Different topic. That second trigger you mentioned. Do you think it'd be a good idea to follow up on that? Meet each other in like, a week from now, and see how things are progressing? I get the feeling that even my own power finds it weird."
"It did your second trigger," Amy pointed out.
"Exactly."
Amy hesitated. That second trigger was one of the more intriguing things she'd come across. If that was what it was in the first place.
"Why do you want to meet up with me so badly?"
"I'll admit I do have a bit of an ulterior motive," the black-haired girl said, confirming Amy's suspicions. "I don't really have any friends right now, and I definitely don't have any parahuman friends. If I'm going to be a parahuman myself, then a heroic-aligned parahuman seems like the best place to start."
"Try talking to my sister," Amy deflected, pretty much reflexively. "She actually likes talking to people all day." She tried ignoring the voice that told her that Vicky was also the only person who was her actual friend, and that she could do with another. She was too busy for that anyway, between school, homework, her healing duties and trying to keep a sane sleep schedule.
"I've never even met your sister and I don't know if I'd have anything in common with her," the girl explained far too reasonably. "Meanwhile I know I've at least got the interest in my second trigger in common with you, plus I'm actually talking to you while I have no way to even contact her. Also, I think I'd rather have a friend who appreciates the quiet every now and then."
Vicky could be quiet. Sometimes. She was better at it than most people believed, at least. Okay, she was definitely an extravert, while Amy was an introvert, but still. She did respect the needs of introverts, Amy included.
Although having someone else to maybe talk to on occasion might actually be nice. Other than Vicky's friends, who never really were Amy's friends; they just talked to her because they were courteous and wouldn't exclude someone who was right there.
Together with the oddness of that trigger, it was enough to make Amy consider it.
"How about we just meet up in a week or so and see if we've got any common ground when, you know, we're not in a hospital with a doctor-patient relationship?"
And then there was the risk that this girl might be trying to take advantage of Amy. On the other hand, there was no way she could've planned being here and talking to Amy in the first place – doubly so because it was a trigger event that led to her going to the hospital – so she'd have had to come up with that plan on the fly, which seemed unrealistic.
Plus, a thought went through Amy's head, perhaps she needed some support in the wake of that same trigger event. Although there was absolutely no fucking way Amy would be the right person to provide that.
But maybe the other arguments were enough. She grabbed her phone.
"Alright, we can meet up once, somewhere in public. But I'm not making any promises about next time. What's your number?"
"Ah," the girl said, seeming a bit embarrassed now. "I uhm, don't have a phone right now. Though I should maybe get one. You know what, if you give me your number, I'll contact you. Either from my new phone, or worst case by landline."
"Oh, uhm, yeah, that's fine," Amy said, scrambling around for pen and paper. Luckily, both were present in her costume's pockets. "What's your name, actually?"
"Taylor Hebert," the girl introduced herself. "And yours? I've probably heard it before, but…"
"Amy Dallon." She handed over a strip of paper, now with her mobile number on it.
"Nice to meet you, even if the circumstances aren't the best," Taylor said. "Do you have any idea how long it'll be before I can go home? Or whether my dad is coming, for that matter?"
"You should be able to go home sometime today, I'll get the doctor to give you a final check-up. As for your relatives, I'm assuming they've been informed, but that's not something I handle."
Taylor nodded. "Well, either way, thanks again for healing me, and I hope things will work out. I'll get in touch with you in the next few days."
Amy nodded, said her good-byes, then stood and left, still feeling conflicted about accepting the invitation to meet up with the girl again. She might talk to Vicky about it. Then again, she already knew that Vicky would be enthusiastically in favor – but maybe it still wasn't a bad idea.
She sighed. She did rely on Vicky too much. It was just so easy and appealing. She talked to the doctor, keeping it down to relevant information only, and then set out to heal the next patient.
"Let's order food for dinner," Dad suggested as we entered the house in the late afternoon – it was just getting dark outside. "I don't think either of us feels up for cooking right now."
I voiced my agreement. I'd told him – in brief terms – about the bullying, mostly because I needed to explain how I'd ended up in the hospital in the first place. However, there was much more left to discuss, and I was starting to assemble a few plans in my head – plans with which Dad might interfere if we didn't discuss things, which meant we'd have to do exactly that. I hadn't even named my bullies yet, as I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to keep Dad from calling Alan if I did, but I wouldn't be able to delay forever.
"Let's sit down," Dad suggested.
I took my favorite place on the couch, mentally reviewing what I wanted out of this conversation.
"There's something I didn't tell you yet," I started.
"You mean apart from who your bullies are?" he asked. I couldn't blame him for not understanding why I was withholding the names for the moment.
"Yes," I said. "Panacea told me after I woke up, though I'd probably have realized it quite quickly myself, but… I got powers, with what happened today."
His eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. "You mean… you're a cape?"
I nodded. "Yeah. That's got to do with the other things I only wanted to talk about now that we're home, as well."
He looked pensive for a second or two. "That's going to require some getting used to. But perhaps, before anything else, I should ask you what your powers can do?"
"I don't quite understand the limits myself yet, but I do have some instinctual understanding."
I stood, checking that I had enough space to my left and right. Things should fit, so long as I was careful. Then, with a mental command, I changed. My body and clothes turned to something that could only be described as solid light, no matter what physics thought of the idea, and two large wings unfurled from my shoulders, almost touching the wall on one side and the window on the other – and I didn't have them extended all the way. My wingspan had to be close to twenty feet. The wings were made from the same solid light as the rest of my body, though they showed a pattern as if they were made from feathers, and every part of my body glowed softly, though it was difficult to see in the late afternoon light of January.
Dad looked at me with wide eyes. "Wow… You definitely look the part of a cape, Taylor."
"Thanks," I said with a smile. My voice had changed with my appearance; I sounded powerful, yet not overbearing, and my intuition told me that a very faint echo was present – though I couldn't discern it through the distortion inherent in hearing my own voice.
Dad returned the smile – and how long it had been since I'd seen him smile. "Is it your power that's making me feel better?"
"Probably," I said. "While I'm in this form, I inspire hope and resolve in my friends and allies, and doubt and fear in my enemies."
"Hope that things might get better…" Dad said softly. "I don't think I realized how much I missed that feeling until now." He refocused. "So can you fly?"
I hovered a foot into the air. "Yes," I replied. "And I don't need my wings for that, though I'll probably use them if I'm outside, just because it feels more appropriate." I held up my hand and formed a sword out of the same solid light that I was currently made of. "I can also make a variety of weapons like this, mostly medieval stuff, I think; no guns, but I can make a bow and arrow. I'm also difficult to hurt or harm, and I heal more quickly."
I changed back to my normal form, gently dropping the foot back down to the ground, and sat down again.
"A very impressive power indeed," Dad said, still working to get over his surprise.
"It's not quite all I can do," I said. "The things I showed you, they only work while I'm in that form. The other stuff… I don't understand it as well as my alternate form, but I think that when it comes down to things, it makes me good at being a leader, or just being in charge of people? It's like… I'm better at figuring out how to convince people to follow me and listen to me, and after that I'm better at decisions like who should do what? I'm not sure, my intuition isn't as clear as it is on the other form I can take."
"Either way, it sounds like parenting you in the future is going to be a breeze, with no difficulties at all," Dad teased. I was pretty sure he was still riding the high from feeling hope for the first time in years.
"Of course," I replied magnanimously. "Also, I think I can recognize other parahumans with it, but I'm not certain of that. It feels right, but maybe the only reason I recognized Panacea as a cape was because I already knew that she was. Oh, right, and I'm pretty sure I can help other parahumans understand their powers better, or something."
"That's… a lot," Danny said. "Don't most parahumans have just one single ability?"
"There's… what are they called?" I snapped my finger a few times, trying to remember. "Oh, right! Grab-bag capes. Maybe that's why? I don't know."
And then there was the bit Panacea had told me, about the weird trigger event or whatever it was in the hospital, and the strange, unfocused sensory inputs I'd received before that. But I kept that bit to myself for now. It would probably only make things more confusing.
Dad asked me what I wanted for dinner and then went to make the phone call, briefly leaving me alone with my thoughts.
"Alright," he said, after hanging up. "With that out of the way, let's talk about what happened at Winslow next."
I nodded. "Yeah. But there's a reason I wanted to tell you about my powers first."
"And that is?" Dad asked.
"I want to know what I can get done myself, using my power," I revealed. I'd considered keeping Dad in the dark on this plan, but I'd decided there was no way he'd leave things alone long enough for me to actually have a chance of executing it, unless he knew about it.
"Explain," he said, seemingly barely refraining from using his Dad Voice.
I took a deep breath. "The main bullies are two girls I've never told you about, Madison Clements and Sophia Hess, and… Emma."
Dad looked shocked for a second before anger overtook his expression. "Emma? As in Alan's daughter?" He practically jumped out of his chair, clearly meaning to give his old friend a call.
"Dad, wait!" I called out.
He took a deep breath and turned to me. "Why?" he asked. "What made her decide to do… this?"
"I don't know," I responded honestly. "But I was thinking, with the power I have now… I might be able to finally figure it out. And maybe… just maybe…" my voice grew small, "maybe I can use it to get old Emma back. My Emma."
I choked down a sob, and just like that my resolve broke. Dad was next to me in a second, holding me as I cried into his chest. And for the first time, in a year and a half, I cried for Emma. Not tears of anger over the hurtful things she said, not tears of grief over my loneliness, not even tears of hate over how she'd ruined my life. No, tears for the friend I'd lost, my sister that had been consumed by a monster wearing her face. Never before had I actually lamented her; first I had been in disbelief, then by the time that wore off, she was already so distant that I thought only of the demon that used me for her own amusement.
Please, I thought to myself, please let her still be alive, somewhere in there. I wasn't sure if I could live with the alternative. It certainly hadn't been a success so far.
There were days Rebecca was incredibly glad for her eidetic memory.
Today was absolutely one of them.
Dozens of cape profiles were freshly burned into her mind, every single cape known to the PRT that operated in Brockton Bay. From big hitters like Armsmaster and Lung to small-time thieves and rogues like Regent and Parian. Even Cauldron's resources had chimed in, with files on Coil – the PRT didn't even know whether he was parahuman – as well as a few other vial recipients.
This morning, Contessa had reported major changes in her active Paths, some growing and others shrinking in length, and she'd determined the source of those changes to be Brockton Bay. Most likely, a newly triggered parahuman that was going to quickly rise to prominence, potentially to the point of removing or taking over one or more of the gangs.
This meant that, when Contessa suddenly video called Rebecca, it didn't exactly do wonders for Rebecca's mood.
She accepted the call, turning her attention to the screen. On the other side, Contessa was of course not doing the same, instead typing away on two keyboards at once and using tinkertech eye-tracking software to operate a third computer. Her feet were likely active as well. Perfect motor control made typing with your toes surprisingly possible.
Rebecca was used to not having eye contact with Contessa during these calls, so she just moved on. "Please tell me it's not Brockton Bay again."
"It's Brockton Bay again," Contessa said.
"Did it start already?" Rebecca asked. That was unlikely, however; if unrest in Brockton Bay was already starting right now, then Contessa would've known about it this morning already, and she'd have told Rebecca. Well, unless her Paths had told her not to.
"No, worse," Contessa said.
Well, fuck.
"Worse?" Rebecca repeated.
"A blind spot appeared in Brockton Bay just earlier this afternoon."
Fuck, indeed.
The total number of blind spots Contessa had across all of Earth Bet could be counted on two hands. Scion, the three Endbringers, Eidolon, Glaistig Uaine, Jack Slash and the Butcher. There were a few more capes that gave her trouble, such as that one leader of the Fallen, but actual blind spots were vanishingly rare. And this was the first one to appear since the Butcher in 1992 – in the same city, in fact. Well, the first one since then unless you counted the Endbringers, but this wasn't one of those.
Or was it?
"Could it be a fourth Endbringer?" Rebecca questioned. She was sure she would've heard something about that already, right? She did a quick check-up. Brockton Bay had sent no distress signals, and neither were normal communications interrupted.
"So far, I haven't seen anything to imply that," Contessa said. For this very reason, she had Paths that would trigger automatically if a blind spot appeared. They would look for sudden cape deaths, large-scale civilian casualties or a number of other, similar things happening in the area near the blind spot.
"Let's hope it stays that way," Rebecca said. "Not that it's worth much, considering all blind spots are major headaches anyway."
"Except Eidolon."
"I said what I said."
The woman giggled. Rebecca sometimes wondered how she could be amused by things when her Path saw everything coming a long time in advance, but when she'd asked, Contessa had given a somewhat vague reply that it 'just worked that way'.
"I'll keep an eye on Brockton Bay," Rebecca said. "If it's not an Endbringer, it has to be a cape unless it's something completely new. That means they'll have to show up in the regular reports at some point, at the latest when they first act in public."
"And blind spots don't have a habit of sitting around doing nothing," Contessa finished her thoughts. "Send all information you gather on them to me immediately so I can start working on the model."
"Of course," Rebecca responded.
Contessa ended the call.
Rebecca sighed. It was amazing how much she could feel like she had a headache even though it was impossible for her to have one. And that on the first day after the Christmas break.
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i can't wait to see how Taylor fixes shit, create a heroic equivalent to SH9 maybe?
Part of that rejection of villains was to entice Amy further. As far as Taylor is concerned, if her power shows her a way to recruit someone, she will consider taking that course of action.
Almost the entire story takes place in Brockton Bay, though some outside antagonists will come pay visits. She will absolutely be fixing a lot of shit though.
1.2 Awakening
1.2 Awakening.
It wasn't until the evening, and in fact until I'd put on my pajamas and crawled under the covers, that I'd realized I wasn't getting tired. Then, my intuition had told me that I wasn't going to get tired at all anymore because I no longer needed sleep.
How that worked, I didn't know, but I'd gone to discuss it with Dad. While he was concerned that I might need sleep after all and was just excited or something, he eventually agreed to let me stay up during the night so long as I'd try to sleep if I felt tired at all.
That didn't happen, so I spent the entire night looking up the capes of Brockton Bay online, learning what I could about their powers, appearance – in costume, of course – and even what was known about them as people, the connections or loyalties they had, and so on. I wanted to know what world I was going to be entering.
On a whim, I'd even decided to pay particular attention to all teenaged or potentially teenaged capes, in case I was correct that I could identify someone as a parahuman on sight and one of them happened to attend Winslow.
Everyone knew the Wards went to Arcadia – well, except those people who argued that this 'everyone knew' was just there to mask where they actually went, which actually made quite a bit of sense – but that still left a number of capes. Rune, from the Empire, probably attended school, and Tattletale, Hellhound, Regent and Grue from the Undersiders might as well, though I wasn't as sure of those. A gang, however minor, made up of only teenagers? Didn't seem like an environment that promoted going to school to me.
Then there was someone like Labyrinth, who might not even be high school age yet but more importantly had power interactions that'd make it impossible for her to properly hide her identity. If the information on Faultline was at all an accurate indicator of her character, Labyrinth was probably being homeschooled.
When I arrived at Winslow that morning, one of the first things I realized was that there were a surprising number of ways to get individual people on my side, ways that I'd never have known to explore before yesterday.
Inside, I got lucky and managed to take a good look at the Trio without any of them noticing me.
Madison was… ooookay, I didn't know anyone could be that much of a cape fanatic. Getting her to stop bullying me would be almost childishly simple.
Sophia was a cape. Which confirmed my suspicions that I could recognize them on sight. Figuring out her identity wasn't much harder. Rune was out for incredibly obvious reasons, Hellhound was built much stockier and Tattletale had blonde hair. Parian was likely a few years older, and definitely had her own shop, so she couldn't be a school-going girl in the first place. Plus, she was said to be somewhat shy and conflict-avoidant. Vista was too young and a complete mismatch in terms of appearance.
Which left only Shadow Stalker.
It was technically possible that Sophia was a cape I hadn't come across during my nightly search, but it made far too much sense. Shadow Stalker was known to be aggressive, and had been a vigilante for quite some time before joining the Wards; some people speculated she'd been pressured to join them to avoid being tried for her actions as vigilante.
On top of that, Shadow Stalker was black, and a close match to Sophia in terms of build, as far as I could tell.
I also realized, practically the moment I laid eyes on her, that I wasn't going to be able to get her to back off with words or simple actions, and while she generally respected violence, if I attempted it she'd probably respond by getting me in trouble either for attacking a Ward, or for assault with a parahuman power.
A rough outline for something that could work formed in my head, but I'd have to think it over first. After I'd made a decision on whether or not I wanted to bother with that in the first place. As far as I could tell, all parahumans considered triggers serious business, which meant that going to the PRT and first telling them that I triggered from bullying and only then giving names for the perpetrators was likely to get me taken seriously. And thus likely to get Sophia in trouble.
But there was also Emma.
When I focused on her, I almost immediately choked back a sob.
What the hell happened to you, Emma?
How did you become such a mess, an amalgamation of lies, self-deception and convictions you don't believe in?
What made you push me away, what made you show such hatred and cruelty to me, when your deepest wish is to be friends with me like we once were?
She still wants to be friends with me, I told myself. She still wants the visits, the sleepovers, the hours chatting about anything that happens to come up. She's still in there.
I turned away, moving to my homeroom as I thought over what I had learned. No matter the face she showed to the world, Emma was a wreck, a total mess of a human being. She'd wrapped herself in self-deception to the point that she truly believed this was who she was, but she was still in there. And I knew that, now. I knew what was wrong with her, and she needed saving. And I could save her. My power had given me the tools. It wasn't going to be easy, not with how long Emma had reinforced the lies she told herself, but if I approached it right, I could get her back.
My first class only had Madison out of the Trio, which was perfect. She didn't try anything major, just the regular small spur-of-the-moment annoyances, which I ignored like always; it was much easier now that I was working towards something rather than simply weathering the abuse. This would be the last class where Madison ever harassed me, and I'd barely have to do anything for it.
When the bell rang, I made sure to be out of class early, unlike what I was used to doing, which was waiting until everyone was gone and hoping people hadn't bothered to ambush me once I left the door. The resulting two or three shoves I received meant little to me, and in the hallway I waited until Madison exited.
Unsurprisingly, her attention was on me. She would never let go of a potential opportunity to fuck with me, after all.
But this time, I spoke first.
"Madison, do you have a moment? I've got something I want to talk about."
She seemed surprised, and that almost immediately turned to suspicion.
"Sandy, Naomi, I'm going to see what this is about, if you don't see me for next class, you know what to do."
The two girls she'd selected nodded and moved off. That was part of why fighting back was so hopeless. Everyone was on the side of Madison, Emma and Sophia, and if they weren't sure what happened, they'd claim whatever looked best for the three, and therefore worst for me.
Could I take Madison in a fight, even without my new powers? Absolutely. But even if I somehow beat her hard enough that she wouldn't be able to report me herself, other people would do it, so I'd be screwed no matter what.
Luckily, I didn't need to fight her.
I led the way to an empty classroom with no windows that anyone might spot us through.
"So, what's this about?" Madison asked smugly as she entered. "Are you upset about that little prank from yesterday or something? You know we didn't do it."
Now that I was asked that question directly, I realized I was far less bothered by that event than I probably should have been. Maybe it had something to do with the powers I had, but my response to people making my life hell wasn't 'hide away or take it' like it had been for the last year and a half, nor even 'fight back' or 'never return and spend all my time being a cape' like might be the obvious way to go when getting powers.
No, it was a simple, clear 'let's get them on my side, with me in charge'.
"We both know who did it," I responded. "But no, that's not what this is about. I want to make a deal. I'll show you something, and in return, you won't ever bully me again."
"I've never bullied you," Madison parried immediately, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. I'd have believed her, if I hadn't known better.
"No need for the posturing," I said off-handedly. "But you know what the best thing is? I'm so certain you'll take the deal that I'll fulfill my part without asking you to promise to uphold it in the first place. And just to be clear, I really do not mean this as a threat."
Without further delay, I transformed, spreading my wings out as far as they could go for the first time.
Madison gasped even as she stumbled back. "You're a cape!"
"I am," I responded. "Thanks to your little stunt from yesterday, in fact."
"Which we didn't do," Madison said shiftily. It was amusing how much less convincing she sounded this time. She visibly pulled herself together. "One condition. I get to ask you about your powers and what you do out there."
I chuckled as I turned back to my regular form. "Sure, but then I add one minor condition in return. I'm sure you weren't planning on telling people that I'm a cape in the first place – you know the Unwritten Rules, don't you?"
"Of course!" she responded, almost indignantly. "Is that your condition?"
"No. My condition is one, you don't tell Emma and Sophia either. At least not unless I give you direct permission. Should be included, but I'm just making sure. And two, you will distract Sophia and, if needed, other people during the lunch break so that I can talk to Emma without anyone overhearing what we're saying."
"What's that for?" Madison asked.
"You know Emma and I were friends before Winslow, right? There's a few things we need to talk through. You can ask her about it afterwards, if you want."
She looked at me suspiciously for a moment. "Okay, conditions accepted. But tomorrow I'm interrogating you during lunch!"
"Sure," I responded. "But if Sophia has a problem with us talking, it's your problem, not mine."
Madison actually looked slightly scared, which made me realize I probably wouldn't have to deal with a cape fanatic too much, at least until the Sophia situation changed.
However, with those words being said, there was nothing more to talk about for the moment, and we each had to hurry to our next class anyway.
I knew the class schedules of the Trio by heart. Learning them had been an act of self-preservation, helping me avoid the girls between classes because I could predict the corridors they were most likely to be in, but today knowing those schedules was useful for an entirely different reason.
Emma had a class without either Madison or Sophia, which meant she wouldn't meet up with them until they were in the cafeteria.
Therefore, I made sure to let her spot me before she got there, my home-made lunch pack already in my hand as if I was looking for a safe place to eat it like so often before. Emma wasn't nearly as subtle as she thought she was in changing course to follow me, and after two corridors I slipped into yet another empty classroom. I hopped onto one of the tables and started eating.
Of course, before I'd taken my third bite, the door opened once more and let in my former – and hopefully future – friend.
"What are you doing here, Taylor? The cafeteria's that way, you know. Do you need a map, maybe? I'd think you'd know the way around the school after a year and a half."
"I had a bit of an eventful day, yesterday," I responded, undeterred. Slow and steady, wait for an opening. And, show composure and balance. The way Emma saw the world, that'd impress her. While I was aiming to break that view away from her, I'd have to work within those boundaries until that point.
"What, because some people pulled a little prank? Come on, that's just how school is, you know."
"If that was all, I wouldn't be sitting here," I responded evenly, taking another bite from my sandwich. No, instead I'd probably still be catatonic. But for all that Emma was a social creature, she didn't pick up on the double meaning here.
Right now, the challenge was to find a way to turn the conversation around, make Emma the focus. Once I managed that, I'd be able to go on the offensive. Luckily, Emma decided to provide an opportunity by going back to one of her classics.
"Were you crying about your mom again? Really? It's been years, Taylor, get over it already!"
"It's okay to be sad that she's gone, Emma," I responded, going completely off her script. "I know she was like a second mother to you, too."
"What? What are you talking about? I barely even think about her anymore."
My power couldn't have been clearer if it used flashing neon signs. I didn't quite understand why, but the opening Emma gave me would pierce straight to the heart.
"You shouldn't bury your negative feelings, you know," I said, pushing off the table to stand face to face with Emma – and several inches taller. "Grief, regret, trauma… if you bury them, they just continue to hurt, forever and ever."
"You're wrong!" Emma burst out. "That's weakling talk!"
"You don't have any grief?" I asked. "No regrets? No trauma? Emma, I don't know if you're fooling yourself, but you're definitely not fooling me. With how much and how quickly you changed while I was at summer camp… people don't change like that unless something big happened, something that deeply affected them."
She scoffed, but it sounded weak in my ears. "I wanted to cut you off anyway! All that happened is that I met Sophia, and she helped me find the strength to do it."
"So strong that you kept seeking confrontations with me. Spreading rumors about me, messing with my homework, pushing me in hallways, ruining my flute, and then we're not even talking about yesterday yet. For a girl that decided to cut me off, you certainly pay a lot of attention to me, Emma. Are you sure that getting me out of your life is what you're looking for? Are you sure it's not something else?"
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," she said defiantly.
The idea of hurting Emma had been difficult to me even when she was at her worst. Now that I knew my Emma was still in there, it was even harder. Yet, I told myself, it had to be done. Even if saying the words hurt me too.
"You've wrapped yourself in lies," I said, stepping up to Emma and using my height to my advantage for the first time since the bullying campaign had started. "You don't want me out of your life. You'd be floundering if I changed schools. You want affirmation. You're using me, you're using our relationship – because no matter how shitty it is, that's technically what it qualifies as – to prove to yourself that you're right, that your lies aren't lies after all. That you're not deceiving yourself, when in fact, you are.
"You want to prove to yourself that you don't need me. You want to prove that you're strong. You want to prove that you're above regret, that you're above trauma. That you've gotten over what happened that one summer, while I wasn't there to support you.
"You have not gotten over it. All you've done, Emma, is create a mask. And I can see it for what it is now. You're burying your trauma, you're burying your regret, and I don't fit in your new world. Because you know that I'd coax it out of you, you know I'd keep prodding until you break down and cry on my shoulder, let it all out, like I did on your shoulder when mom died, which you so love to remind me of."
"That's not true!" Emma screamed. "You're just making things up because you can't handle that I got new friends!"
"No," I said, voice calm but laced with steel. "I will not let this go, Emma. You can lie to the students here at Winslow. You can lie to Madison, to Sophia, even to your parents. But I know you, Emma. You cannot lie to me. You've twisted and mutilated yourself to conform to the ideals that you've adopted, even though you do not believe them.
"You've pushed away everyone that makes you feel safe, because to be safe is to be weak. Every single day, you have to fight your demons, wrestle them into submission, because if you don't, if you let them win even once, everyone will know that the person they thought they knew is a lie.
"By now, your entire existence is based on one thing, and one thing only. You can look at me and think, 'I did that', and 'I'm stronger than her'. What will you do, when I walk out of this school, my head held high? When all you've done to me becomes meaningless because I've moved on? Because that's what I'm going to do, Emma. I had a very busy day yesterday, after the stunt you three pulled. And I've got plenty of opportunities ahead of me. This shithole of a school no longer means anything to me."
"You can't--!" Emma started before cutting herself off and searching for words.
I immediately knew; that aborted outburst was my cue.
"I can't what?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I can't move on with my life? I can't do my own thing? I thought you wanted to cut me off, Emma. Didn't you tell me so just now?
"What do you truly want from me, Emma? Who am I to you? Who do you want me to be to you? Do you want me to be your punching bag? Do you want me to be your rival, who fights you on even footing? Do you want me gone after all, chasing my own success somewhere you can't see? Or perhaps… beneath it all… do you want me back? Your friend?"
"I don't—I don't know what you mean." Her voice wavered ever so slightly.
"Those who surround themselves with lies will, one day, have to choose. The lie, or the truth. For you, Emma, that day is today. Will you admit the truth, if only to yourself, or will you continue to lie and pretend that everything is fine, that you are fine?"
"You're—you don't know anything about me!" she said defiantly, though her voice was colored by emotion. "I'm not lying to myself!"
"This is your last chance, your last shot," I said. "If you don't take your chance now, the door is closed. I'm giving you this opportunity, even though by all means, you forsook it many months ago. If you don't take it, it's lost forever."
I genuinely didn't know if she would take it. I wished with all my heart that she would, for if she weren't, she would be lost forever to me as well, and that pained me more than I could ever put into words.
We looked at one another for what seemed to be an eternity. It was as if all my memories of Emma, the friend she'd been, the bully she'd become, played through my mind in the time it took her to come to a decision.
Twice, she twitched and I thought she was about to reach out to me.
But she didn't.
She turned away.
I waited.
"Well, go on then," she said, though her words came out choked. "Leave."
The crushing loss threatened to overwhelm me, and I had to hold back tears; I could cry later, where she wouldn't witness it. With feet as heavy as lead, I walked to the door. A step, another, a third, and the fourth brought me there.
I listened, hoping for something, anything.
I opened the door.
One, perhaps two more steps, and she'd be gone forever.
With monumental effort, I took the first.
Despite my attempts to hold back, a tear welled up in my eye.
I made to take the next step, and stumbled.
I held myself up with a knee on the floor, one hand holding me up. I had no memory of the moment in between.
"Taylor! Wait!" Emma's voice called out, desperate, fearful, and above all clouded by emotion.
I turned around. Emma had sagged against a wall, her head in her hands. Dimly, I realized she suddenly registered as a parahuman to my power, but I ignored it.
I closed the door again and walked up to her, suddenly unsure of myself, then sat down next to her. When I hesitantly put my arm over her shoulders, she let out a loud wail.
"I'm so sorry, Taylor! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." She buried her head into my chest, and I awkwardly put my arms around her to comfort her even as I found myself crying, too. But they were, I knew, tears of joy. Through them, I almost missed what Emma said next.
"You must hate me."
"Emma," I said slowly, carefully. "I would never have gone through this much effort for someone I hated. It doesn't matter how far you strayed. I won't ever give up on you."
She choked once, but her sobbing did not abate as years of bottled up emotions flooded out of her.
Yesterday had started out as a horrible day, but had taken a remarkable turn for the better as the day I gained my powers. However, it could not hold a candle to today. After all…
"I've missed you so much, Emma. My sister."
It wasn't until the evening, and in fact until I'd put on my pajamas and crawled under the covers, that I'd realized I wasn't getting tired. Then, my intuition had told me that I wasn't going to get tired at all anymore because I no longer needed sleep.
How that worked, I didn't know, but I'd gone to discuss it with Dad. While he was concerned that I might need sleep after all and was just excited or something, he eventually agreed to let me stay up during the night so long as I'd try to sleep if I felt tired at all.
That didn't happen, so I spent the entire night looking up the capes of Brockton Bay online, learning what I could about their powers, appearance – in costume, of course – and even what was known about them as people, the connections or loyalties they had, and so on. I wanted to know what world I was going to be entering.
On a whim, I'd even decided to pay particular attention to all teenaged or potentially teenaged capes, in case I was correct that I could identify someone as a parahuman on sight and one of them happened to attend Winslow.
Everyone knew the Wards went to Arcadia – well, except those people who argued that this 'everyone knew' was just there to mask where they actually went, which actually made quite a bit of sense – but that still left a number of capes. Rune, from the Empire, probably attended school, and Tattletale, Hellhound, Regent and Grue from the Undersiders might as well, though I wasn't as sure of those. A gang, however minor, made up of only teenagers? Didn't seem like an environment that promoted going to school to me.
Then there was someone like Labyrinth, who might not even be high school age yet but more importantly had power interactions that'd make it impossible for her to properly hide her identity. If the information on Faultline was at all an accurate indicator of her character, Labyrinth was probably being homeschooled.
When I arrived at Winslow that morning, one of the first things I realized was that there were a surprising number of ways to get individual people on my side, ways that I'd never have known to explore before yesterday.
Inside, I got lucky and managed to take a good look at the Trio without any of them noticing me.
Madison was… ooookay, I didn't know anyone could be that much of a cape fanatic. Getting her to stop bullying me would be almost childishly simple.
Sophia was a cape. Which confirmed my suspicions that I could recognize them on sight. Figuring out her identity wasn't much harder. Rune was out for incredibly obvious reasons, Hellhound was built much stockier and Tattletale had blonde hair. Parian was likely a few years older, and definitely had her own shop, so she couldn't be a school-going girl in the first place. Plus, she was said to be somewhat shy and conflict-avoidant. Vista was too young and a complete mismatch in terms of appearance.
Which left only Shadow Stalker.
It was technically possible that Sophia was a cape I hadn't come across during my nightly search, but it made far too much sense. Shadow Stalker was known to be aggressive, and had been a vigilante for quite some time before joining the Wards; some people speculated she'd been pressured to join them to avoid being tried for her actions as vigilante.
On top of that, Shadow Stalker was black, and a close match to Sophia in terms of build, as far as I could tell.
I also realized, practically the moment I laid eyes on her, that I wasn't going to be able to get her to back off with words or simple actions, and while she generally respected violence, if I attempted it she'd probably respond by getting me in trouble either for attacking a Ward, or for assault with a parahuman power.
A rough outline for something that could work formed in my head, but I'd have to think it over first. After I'd made a decision on whether or not I wanted to bother with that in the first place. As far as I could tell, all parahumans considered triggers serious business, which meant that going to the PRT and first telling them that I triggered from bullying and only then giving names for the perpetrators was likely to get me taken seriously. And thus likely to get Sophia in trouble.
But there was also Emma.
When I focused on her, I almost immediately choked back a sob.
What the hell happened to you, Emma?
How did you become such a mess, an amalgamation of lies, self-deception and convictions you don't believe in?
What made you push me away, what made you show such hatred and cruelty to me, when your deepest wish is to be friends with me like we once were?
She still wants to be friends with me, I told myself. She still wants the visits, the sleepovers, the hours chatting about anything that happens to come up. She's still in there.
I turned away, moving to my homeroom as I thought over what I had learned. No matter the face she showed to the world, Emma was a wreck, a total mess of a human being. She'd wrapped herself in self-deception to the point that she truly believed this was who she was, but she was still in there. And I knew that, now. I knew what was wrong with her, and she needed saving. And I could save her. My power had given me the tools. It wasn't going to be easy, not with how long Emma had reinforced the lies she told herself, but if I approached it right, I could get her back.
My first class only had Madison out of the Trio, which was perfect. She didn't try anything major, just the regular small spur-of-the-moment annoyances, which I ignored like always; it was much easier now that I was working towards something rather than simply weathering the abuse. This would be the last class where Madison ever harassed me, and I'd barely have to do anything for it.
When the bell rang, I made sure to be out of class early, unlike what I was used to doing, which was waiting until everyone was gone and hoping people hadn't bothered to ambush me once I left the door. The resulting two or three shoves I received meant little to me, and in the hallway I waited until Madison exited.
Unsurprisingly, her attention was on me. She would never let go of a potential opportunity to fuck with me, after all.
But this time, I spoke first.
"Madison, do you have a moment? I've got something I want to talk about."
She seemed surprised, and that almost immediately turned to suspicion.
"Sandy, Naomi, I'm going to see what this is about, if you don't see me for next class, you know what to do."
The two girls she'd selected nodded and moved off. That was part of why fighting back was so hopeless. Everyone was on the side of Madison, Emma and Sophia, and if they weren't sure what happened, they'd claim whatever looked best for the three, and therefore worst for me.
Could I take Madison in a fight, even without my new powers? Absolutely. But even if I somehow beat her hard enough that she wouldn't be able to report me herself, other people would do it, so I'd be screwed no matter what.
Luckily, I didn't need to fight her.
I led the way to an empty classroom with no windows that anyone might spot us through.
"So, what's this about?" Madison asked smugly as she entered. "Are you upset about that little prank from yesterday or something? You know we didn't do it."
Now that I was asked that question directly, I realized I was far less bothered by that event than I probably should have been. Maybe it had something to do with the powers I had, but my response to people making my life hell wasn't 'hide away or take it' like it had been for the last year and a half, nor even 'fight back' or 'never return and spend all my time being a cape' like might be the obvious way to go when getting powers.
No, it was a simple, clear 'let's get them on my side, with me in charge'.
"We both know who did it," I responded. "But no, that's not what this is about. I want to make a deal. I'll show you something, and in return, you won't ever bully me again."
"I've never bullied you," Madison parried immediately, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. I'd have believed her, if I hadn't known better.
"No need for the posturing," I said off-handedly. "But you know what the best thing is? I'm so certain you'll take the deal that I'll fulfill my part without asking you to promise to uphold it in the first place. And just to be clear, I really do not mean this as a threat."
Without further delay, I transformed, spreading my wings out as far as they could go for the first time.
Madison gasped even as she stumbled back. "You're a cape!"
"I am," I responded. "Thanks to your little stunt from yesterday, in fact."
"Which we didn't do," Madison said shiftily. It was amusing how much less convincing she sounded this time. She visibly pulled herself together. "One condition. I get to ask you about your powers and what you do out there."
I chuckled as I turned back to my regular form. "Sure, but then I add one minor condition in return. I'm sure you weren't planning on telling people that I'm a cape in the first place – you know the Unwritten Rules, don't you?"
"Of course!" she responded, almost indignantly. "Is that your condition?"
"No. My condition is one, you don't tell Emma and Sophia either. At least not unless I give you direct permission. Should be included, but I'm just making sure. And two, you will distract Sophia and, if needed, other people during the lunch break so that I can talk to Emma without anyone overhearing what we're saying."
"What's that for?" Madison asked.
"You know Emma and I were friends before Winslow, right? There's a few things we need to talk through. You can ask her about it afterwards, if you want."
She looked at me suspiciously for a moment. "Okay, conditions accepted. But tomorrow I'm interrogating you during lunch!"
"Sure," I responded. "But if Sophia has a problem with us talking, it's your problem, not mine."
Madison actually looked slightly scared, which made me realize I probably wouldn't have to deal with a cape fanatic too much, at least until the Sophia situation changed.
However, with those words being said, there was nothing more to talk about for the moment, and we each had to hurry to our next class anyway.
I knew the class schedules of the Trio by heart. Learning them had been an act of self-preservation, helping me avoid the girls between classes because I could predict the corridors they were most likely to be in, but today knowing those schedules was useful for an entirely different reason.
Emma had a class without either Madison or Sophia, which meant she wouldn't meet up with them until they were in the cafeteria.
Therefore, I made sure to let her spot me before she got there, my home-made lunch pack already in my hand as if I was looking for a safe place to eat it like so often before. Emma wasn't nearly as subtle as she thought she was in changing course to follow me, and after two corridors I slipped into yet another empty classroom. I hopped onto one of the tables and started eating.
Of course, before I'd taken my third bite, the door opened once more and let in my former – and hopefully future – friend.
"What are you doing here, Taylor? The cafeteria's that way, you know. Do you need a map, maybe? I'd think you'd know the way around the school after a year and a half."
"I had a bit of an eventful day, yesterday," I responded, undeterred. Slow and steady, wait for an opening. And, show composure and balance. The way Emma saw the world, that'd impress her. While I was aiming to break that view away from her, I'd have to work within those boundaries until that point.
"What, because some people pulled a little prank? Come on, that's just how school is, you know."
"If that was all, I wouldn't be sitting here," I responded evenly, taking another bite from my sandwich. No, instead I'd probably still be catatonic. But for all that Emma was a social creature, she didn't pick up on the double meaning here.
Right now, the challenge was to find a way to turn the conversation around, make Emma the focus. Once I managed that, I'd be able to go on the offensive. Luckily, Emma decided to provide an opportunity by going back to one of her classics.
"Were you crying about your mom again? Really? It's been years, Taylor, get over it already!"
"It's okay to be sad that she's gone, Emma," I responded, going completely off her script. "I know she was like a second mother to you, too."
"What? What are you talking about? I barely even think about her anymore."
My power couldn't have been clearer if it used flashing neon signs. I didn't quite understand why, but the opening Emma gave me would pierce straight to the heart.
"You shouldn't bury your negative feelings, you know," I said, pushing off the table to stand face to face with Emma – and several inches taller. "Grief, regret, trauma… if you bury them, they just continue to hurt, forever and ever."
"You're wrong!" Emma burst out. "That's weakling talk!"
"You don't have any grief?" I asked. "No regrets? No trauma? Emma, I don't know if you're fooling yourself, but you're definitely not fooling me. With how much and how quickly you changed while I was at summer camp… people don't change like that unless something big happened, something that deeply affected them."
She scoffed, but it sounded weak in my ears. "I wanted to cut you off anyway! All that happened is that I met Sophia, and she helped me find the strength to do it."
"So strong that you kept seeking confrontations with me. Spreading rumors about me, messing with my homework, pushing me in hallways, ruining my flute, and then we're not even talking about yesterday yet. For a girl that decided to cut me off, you certainly pay a lot of attention to me, Emma. Are you sure that getting me out of your life is what you're looking for? Are you sure it's not something else?"
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," she said defiantly.
The idea of hurting Emma had been difficult to me even when she was at her worst. Now that I knew my Emma was still in there, it was even harder. Yet, I told myself, it had to be done. Even if saying the words hurt me too.
"You've wrapped yourself in lies," I said, stepping up to Emma and using my height to my advantage for the first time since the bullying campaign had started. "You don't want me out of your life. You'd be floundering if I changed schools. You want affirmation. You're using me, you're using our relationship – because no matter how shitty it is, that's technically what it qualifies as – to prove to yourself that you're right, that your lies aren't lies after all. That you're not deceiving yourself, when in fact, you are.
"You want to prove to yourself that you don't need me. You want to prove that you're strong. You want to prove that you're above regret, that you're above trauma. That you've gotten over what happened that one summer, while I wasn't there to support you.
"You have not gotten over it. All you've done, Emma, is create a mask. And I can see it for what it is now. You're burying your trauma, you're burying your regret, and I don't fit in your new world. Because you know that I'd coax it out of you, you know I'd keep prodding until you break down and cry on my shoulder, let it all out, like I did on your shoulder when mom died, which you so love to remind me of."
"That's not true!" Emma screamed. "You're just making things up because you can't handle that I got new friends!"
"No," I said, voice calm but laced with steel. "I will not let this go, Emma. You can lie to the students here at Winslow. You can lie to Madison, to Sophia, even to your parents. But I know you, Emma. You cannot lie to me. You've twisted and mutilated yourself to conform to the ideals that you've adopted, even though you do not believe them.
"You've pushed away everyone that makes you feel safe, because to be safe is to be weak. Every single day, you have to fight your demons, wrestle them into submission, because if you don't, if you let them win even once, everyone will know that the person they thought they knew is a lie.
"By now, your entire existence is based on one thing, and one thing only. You can look at me and think, 'I did that', and 'I'm stronger than her'. What will you do, when I walk out of this school, my head held high? When all you've done to me becomes meaningless because I've moved on? Because that's what I'm going to do, Emma. I had a very busy day yesterday, after the stunt you three pulled. And I've got plenty of opportunities ahead of me. This shithole of a school no longer means anything to me."
"You can't--!" Emma started before cutting herself off and searching for words.
I immediately knew; that aborted outburst was my cue.
"I can't what?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I can't move on with my life? I can't do my own thing? I thought you wanted to cut me off, Emma. Didn't you tell me so just now?
"What do you truly want from me, Emma? Who am I to you? Who do you want me to be to you? Do you want me to be your punching bag? Do you want me to be your rival, who fights you on even footing? Do you want me gone after all, chasing my own success somewhere you can't see? Or perhaps… beneath it all… do you want me back? Your friend?"
"I don't—I don't know what you mean." Her voice wavered ever so slightly.
"Those who surround themselves with lies will, one day, have to choose. The lie, or the truth. For you, Emma, that day is today. Will you admit the truth, if only to yourself, or will you continue to lie and pretend that everything is fine, that you are fine?"
"You're—you don't know anything about me!" she said defiantly, though her voice was colored by emotion. "I'm not lying to myself!"
"This is your last chance, your last shot," I said. "If you don't take your chance now, the door is closed. I'm giving you this opportunity, even though by all means, you forsook it many months ago. If you don't take it, it's lost forever."
I genuinely didn't know if she would take it. I wished with all my heart that she would, for if she weren't, she would be lost forever to me as well, and that pained me more than I could ever put into words.
We looked at one another for what seemed to be an eternity. It was as if all my memories of Emma, the friend she'd been, the bully she'd become, played through my mind in the time it took her to come to a decision.
Twice, she twitched and I thought she was about to reach out to me.
But she didn't.
She turned away.
I waited.
"Well, go on then," she said, though her words came out choked. "Leave."
The crushing loss threatened to overwhelm me, and I had to hold back tears; I could cry later, where she wouldn't witness it. With feet as heavy as lead, I walked to the door. A step, another, a third, and the fourth brought me there.
I listened, hoping for something, anything.
I opened the door.
One, perhaps two more steps, and she'd be gone forever.
With monumental effort, I took the first.
Despite my attempts to hold back, a tear welled up in my eye.
I made to take the next step, and stumbled.
I held myself up with a knee on the floor, one hand holding me up. I had no memory of the moment in between.
"Taylor! Wait!" Emma's voice called out, desperate, fearful, and above all clouded by emotion.
I turned around. Emma had sagged against a wall, her head in her hands. Dimly, I realized she suddenly registered as a parahuman to my power, but I ignored it.
I closed the door again and walked up to her, suddenly unsure of myself, then sat down next to her. When I hesitantly put my arm over her shoulders, she let out a loud wail.
"I'm so sorry, Taylor! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." She buried her head into my chest, and I awkwardly put my arms around her to comfort her even as I found myself crying, too. But they were, I knew, tears of joy. Through them, I almost missed what Emma said next.
"You must hate me."
"Emma," I said slowly, carefully. "I would never have gone through this much effort for someone I hated. It doesn't matter how far you strayed. I won't ever give up on you."
She choked once, but her sobbing did not abate as years of bottled up emotions flooded out of her.
Yesterday had started out as a horrible day, but had taken a remarkable turn for the better as the day I gained my powers. However, it could not hold a candle to today. After all…
"I've missed you so much, Emma. My sister."
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Wow! This was a fun chapter that set the stage for Emma's redemption. I wasn't expecting the trigger and I am interested to see how it develops.
Blegh, I'd have been okay with that turnaround if it involved real mind-control master effects, but claiming that pure Thinker power alone can make Emma better is just... wrong.
This Emma that has latched onto Taylor is still the same one that latched onto Sophia. She isn't any better. She isn't fixed. She's still just as unhinged, and Taylor simply pushed her buttons. Emma needs power surgery, not super therapy.
This Emma that has latched onto Taylor is still the same one that latched onto Sophia. She isn't any better. She isn't fixed. She's still just as unhinged, and Taylor simply pushed her buttons. Emma needs power surgery, not super therapy.
Emma absolutely isn't fixed. This is her admitting to herself that she's broken, and nothing more than that.
I mean... people don't usually trigger from being fixed, do they?
- Location
- Te Ika-a-Māui
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The secret of Spikepuppy's trigger, revealed at last.
1.3 Awakening
AN: Just a fair warning, right now I'm uploading at a higher rate than I'm writing. This may change, as something that stopped me from writing has been resolved, but no promises.
By the time Emma had somewhat recovered, the hour-long lunch break was almost over. And though she wasn't actively crying anymore, she was in absolutely no state to attend class, either.
So I took her to the administrative office, holding her hand all the way there. It was probably a good thing the hallways were still empty, because Emma wouldn't have been able to handle the shocked reactions from the rest of the student body.
I pulled Emma into the secretary's office room, ignoring her attempt to remain out of sight.
"What's wrong?" the secretary asked, clearly worried about Emma's harried state. Tear tracks, red eyes, ruined make-up, jostled hair; she made quite a sight. While not visible on my dark clothes, there was actually a spot that was wet just from Emma's tears.
"Emma was confronted with some incredibly difficult personal stuff," I said. "I'd like to ask if we can get the rest of the day off so she can deal with them. I… don't think it'd be good for her to go to class right now, where she'd have to deal with everyone and their questions."
"We can make an exception for your friend," the secretary responded. "But I'm afraid I can't do the same for you, Miss…"
"Hebert. Taylor Hebert. And this is Emma Barnes." I didn't leave, however. Instead, I turned to Emma. "Can you give us a moment, Ems?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak but stepping out in the corridor nonetheless. I closed the door behind her.
"Ma'am…" I said, turning back to the secretary. "I don't trust her to be alone right now. I'm worried she might hurt herself."
It wasn't even a lie. I was genuinely worried about that, and I had no intention to let her out of my sight for the rest of the day.
The secretary hesitated for a moment. "That bad?"
I nodded. "That bad. She… I don't even know how to say anything without revealing things she wouldn't want others to know, but… well, I lost my mom a few years ago, a traffic accident. I think, if I compare how I felt when I heard the news to how Emma's feeling right now… I was probably doing better than she is."
She nodded. "You can go with her. I'll make sure you're marked as absent with proper reason."
"Thank you, ma'am."
I stepped back into the corridor and grabbed Emma into a hug, which she desperately returned.
"We'll go home," I said, soothing her. "My home. It'll be just the two of us until Dad gets home from work in the evening. More than enough time to talk."
"You got permission?" she asked, hopeful.
"I did, but I'd have come with you even if I hadn't," I said, releasing the hug, but keeping my arm around her waist. Emma needed the support, the physical contact, and if any of the Nazi wannabes at the school saw it and took issue with it, I could deal with them when the time came. Not that there was anything like that between us, of course. Nothing wrong with girls, in fact I wasn't sure whether I preferred them or boys, but just not Emma. She was supposed to be a sister, nothing more and nothing less.
"Why are you doing this for me?" Emma whispered.
"Because you're my sister and you need help," I said, vocalizing my thought from just before.
"Even after everything I did to you?"
"I know we aren't sisters by blood," I said, "but there's a reason I'm calling you that, as opposed to best friend. You can't just stop being sisters, Emma. Friends may grow apart, but if something happens with your sister, it's your duty to help her, to pull her back from the brink. I'm just glad I wasn't too late. For a few seconds… I truly believed I was."
I pulled her closer for a moment, thankful that the other path hadn't come to pass.
We walked out of the school and started to make our way to the bus stop.
"There's one thing I don't understand," Emma said. "Why now? Why not earlier? And how? I mean, I know you know me pretty well, but…"
"But it was like every single thing I said pierced you through the heart and forced you to confront all the doubts and regrets you'd hidden away," I finished her sentence.
"Yeah," Emma agreed. "Exactly that. I—I didn't even know those things myself. I didn't realize how much I wanted to be friends with you again until you pretty much told me."
I stopped walking and pulled her into another hug.
"And for all that I know you well, you don't get how I knew you that well," I summarized.
"Yeah."
I took a look around. We weren't at the bus stop yet, and it seemed no one was nearby enough to overhear, which was good. I did separate from the hug, however.
"Do you remember, right when I was about to leave the classroom, that you lost consciousness for a moment? I don't know whether you were sitting there already, so it might've not been super obvious."
Emma nodded. "Yeah, I remember. That was weird."
She hesitated, and I suspected she had an idea of what had happened, but wasn't sure yet, so I confirmed it for her.
"That was what's called a 'trigger event'," I explained. "It's the moment that gives capes their powers, and according to PHO, it's usually 'the worst day of their lives'."
"So… I really have powers?" Emma asked. "I wasn't sure whether I was just imagining things, but it just felt right."
"You do," I responded. In fact, I suspected that right now, I had a better understanding of her powers than she did, but that could wait until later.
"Wait," Emma said, picking up the thread from before. "Weren't you going to tell me how you knew what to say? What does me having powers to do with that?"
"I was going to tell you that, yes. Yesterday… well, you know what happened. During that, I went through a trigger event myself, and—"
Emma practically crashed into me. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Tay!" she exclaimed between renewed sobs. "I can't believe I made you go through that!"
I shushed her. "It's okay, Emma. Everything's going to be okay. I promise." I chuckled. "And hey, depending on how you look at it, didn't I make you go through the same thing?"
"That's not the same at all," Emma objected. "I did that to myself, you were just trying to help me."
"Either way, it doesn't matter," I said. "And to go back to your question, one power I got was the ability to understand just how to convince people to join or follow me – it's kind of like it helps me be a leader, you know. In your case, that meant, well, this."
"And you did that for me even after you triggered? Also, one power? Do you have more?"
I hesitated and instinctively looked at the sky. Could I? Should I? There was no way no one would see me and post about it on PHO. I didn't even have a cape account yet to clarify things with.
On the other hand, Emma might appreciate avoiding the busy bus, and perhaps being exposed to my aura of hope might do her some good, just like it had done Dad.
Eh, I could simply be a mystery for a while. I'd announce myself when I was ready for it.
I grabbed Emma's hand and pulled her along, then into a side street.
"Taylor? What are you doing?"
After making sure no one saw us, I transformed, spreading my wings lengthwise.
Emma gasped and stumbled a step back before taking a good look at me.
"That's awesome!"
"How about I fly you home instead?"
She seemed shocked for a moment before nodding enthusiastically and stepping forward. I put my arms around her, spending a moment to find a comfortable way to hold her – with my enhanced strength, it wasn't too difficult.
"Are you comfortable as well?" I asked. Emma had one hand around my neck and the other around my waist.
"Yeah, I am," Emma said. "Don't drop me though."
"Wasn't planning on it," I said with a grin, before jumping up and beating my wings to gain height.
"This is amazing!" Emma exclaimed as we started to rise.
"I know!" I agreed, a big grin on my face. "It's my first time too!" I looked down across the city as I gained some more height, then I started flying towards our neighborhood.
The city looked different from above. I realized that some streets didn't curve quite the way I thought they did, and some distances were just a little different than I'd have guessed they were. Buildings remained surprisingly tall even when I'd hit a comfortable cruising height – they didn't become nearly flat squares, like I had half expected. In fact, the Medhall building in the distance still reached my height, if not a bit higher. Cars, meanwhile, seemed to have slowed to a crawl.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Emma said, sounding slightly more apprehensive now.
"Don't worry!" I responded. "I don't actually need my wings to fly, even if it feels better to use them. I just need to think, and I'll go in the right direction."
Not only did we not have to deal with other people, but flight turned out to also be significantly faster, and it was only a few minutes later that we touched down on an empty street, where I transformed back.
"Isn't your place two blocks over?" Emma asked.
"If I land in my backyard, I doubt I'll be able to maintain a secret identity for long. This is already cutting it close enough."
Emma nodded in understanding, and we started walking.
"That felt absolutely amazing," she said. "I don't think I've felt that good in... you know, I don't think I've felt that good since we were friends." She saddened at that. "I'm sorry."
"You did have a bit of help," I said. "When I transform, it inspires hope and resolve in my friends and allies. When I revealed it to Dad yesterday, he showed a genuine smile for the first time I can remember since mom died."
Emma reached out and grabbed my hand. "I should've never made fun of you for that. You were right, by the way. I miss her too."
I smiled. "I still miss her, but it's hard to be sad when today, I feel like my friend came back from the dead."
Emma didn't respond to that, instead turning her eyes downward, and we actually walked in silence for a little while. No doubt, it had reminded her once more of everything she'd done, but there was no way for her to mistake my genuine joy at having her back, even without her power.
"Skip the first step."
"You still didn't fix that?" Emma asked incredulously, though she did skip over it.
"Neither Dad nor I have had a very good time of things," I pointed out.
"Oh, right..."
"Hey, there's a limit to how much moodiness I'm willing to accept, Emma. Keep your spirits up. We're friends again, and we've still got a lot to talk about. And catch up on, for that matter."
I unlocked the door, and once we were inside we made our way to the living room, where I pulled Emma next to me on the couch.
"First things first, you should probably call your mom and tell her you're here and, if I have my way, that you're staying for the night."
Emma looked confused at that. "You want me to stay for the night? Why?"
"Because I'm glad to have you back, and I want to spend as much time with you as possible." And because I was still worried she might harm herself if she was alone, but I wasn't going to tell her that. I did think it was a temporary thing though – but she was going to need a day or two to internalize that I really was giving her another chance.
Emma got her phone out – one of those fancy new smartphones with touchscreen – and dialed a number. With the less-focused sound output that these phones had compared to older mobile phones or landlines, I could follow both sides of the conversation.
"Emma, Is everything okay?"
Emma hesitated for a second before answering. "It will be. I think. Look, um, I'm at Taylor's place right now, and she thought it was a good idea if I called you so you knew that."
"Taylor? Really? I'm surprised. Didn't you have a falling-out? I thought you said she broke off contact."
I saw Emma freeze and lock up, so I scooted closer and put my arm around her, letting her relax slowly.
"Emma?"
Emma took a deep breath. "I... I was the one who broke off the contact, mom," she confessed. "Today—well, a lot happened today. I've been..." She sighed, holding the phone away from her mouth. "I can't do this."
I reached out, and she gave the phone to me.
"Hi Aunt Zoe. It's me, Taylor."
"Taylor! I haven't heard your voice in far too long. So what's going on?"
"We made up," I said. "Anything beyond that isn't a conversation to have over the phone. But Emma is feeling really shit right now, which is why we're home in the first place, and not at school, and we kind of need some time together to work through things. Is it okay if she stays here for the night? Then I can come along to your place tomorrow after school and we'll tell you about everything."
She audibly hesitated. "Alright then. I know you, and you've had plenty of sleepovers in the past. But when you're here tomorrow, I want the full story. Nothing left out."
I... wasn't actually sure I wanted to promise that. There had been a lot of bullying. But perhaps we could skim over any specific incidents.
"Of course," I replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, Aunt Zoe. It's been far too long anyway."
"Bye."
I ended the call and handed the phone back.
"Do we really need to tell them?" Emma asked timidly.
"There's no way we can get away with not telling them," I replied, grabbing Emma in an embrace. "I'll do what I can to convince them to not punish you too hard. You're already punishing yourself enough."
"Nothing is enough."
"Shut up with that nonsense. Next topic. Your powers."
"I'm not sure what they do," Emma admitted. "They keep insisting you're honest about helping me and taking care of me, though."
She sounded like she still doubted that was actually true.
"You're in luck, because I seem to be able to instinctively read and understand powers – both those of others, and my own. I might not catch everything, but I think your power helps you understand what people think of other people nearby, both on an individual level and in a group level. Or, rather, their attitudes towards them. So you'll always know exactly who likes each other, and who doesn't, and whether anyone might be plotting something."
"That sounds useless. What am I supposed to do with that?"
"It's not useless," I disagreed. "It'd be great to smooth over issues in a group or point people towards a common goal, in particular considering your social skills are pretty good already."
Emma frowned. "So basically, I spent a year and a half manipulating people into being assholes, then I finally realize how much of a bitch I've been, and I get a power that makes me better at manipulating people? That's messed up."
"Or you can use it to push people to get better," I pointed out. "If there's one thing I've almost immediately found about my power, it's that it makes me want to get people on my side. But after that? I don't get any help anymore, all I get, or at least that's what my intuition is telling me, and I've come to trust my power on that, is that I'll be able to make better decisions more quickly when it comes to the people following me.
"But let's say I just keep doing that, and I've got ten capes on my side. Capes are known for having a hard time working together, so it would be a real challenge to keep the peace? But you could do that."
"Ten capes? Are you serious?"
I smiled. "We've already got two – you and me. I talked to Panacea in the hospital yesterday, and we agreed to meet again. She doesn't seem happy right now, so I'm hoping I can give her a better place."
"Panacea?" Emma asked, shocked. "You needed her? Tay, I'm sorry!"
"Shh, it's fine," I responded.
"What did you need her for?" she asked hesitantly.
"I'll tell you some other time," I responded. I didn't think it was a good idea to confront Emma with the details right now. "But anyway, there's her, and I want to at least give getting Sophia on my side a try, so that'd be four already."
"You know that she's a cape?" Emma asked, surprised.
"I can recognize parahumans on sight," I explained. "Once I knew Sophia was one, it was a simple process of elimination. Wasn't too difficult to figure out that she's Shadow Stalker."
"Oh."
"Which does make me wonder what the hell the PRT is doing, if they can't even control their own Wards," I remarked.
Emma looked somewhat guilty at that.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I kinda pushed her. To bully you. Well, I mean, she'd probably have done it to others anyway, but I made her focus on you. Also, Dad was a character witness for her when she joined the Wards, and he didn't know anything about what we did at Winslow."
I hugged her close once more. "It's okay, Emma. No focusing on the past, it's about our path forward. I already have ideas on how to deal with Sophia."
Emma relaxed minutely at that. "Good, because I'm not sure I'd be able to convince her to stop. I can probably get Madison to do so, though."
I laughed softly. "That won't be needed. Madison is too much of a cape geek to ever bully someone she knows to be a cape. All I need to be worried about is that she might talk my ears off my head with questions."
"You told her?" Emma exclaimed.
"Remember what my power does," I pointed out. "I knew that the only thing I had to do was show her my transformation and she'd effectively be 'on my side'."
"You're placing a lot of trust in your power."
"Hey, it paid off so far. Twice, already." I grabbed Emma into another full-on hug to emphasize that.
We sat in silence for a while, relishing in each other's physical presence. It really happened, I thought to myself. I had Emma back. It was hard to believe, even while she was there, in my arms.
Finally, I let go of her.
"We do have a harder topic we really need to talk about," I said. "Namely, what the hell happened while I was at summer camp, and how was Sophia – or Shadow Stalker – involved?"
Emma turned her head down.
"If we don't talk about it," I pressed, "I can't help you deal with it either. And I'm quite sure you haven't been dealing with it so far."
"Yeah," Emma said hesitantly. "Yeah, you probably have a point there."
Slowly, haltingly, she started telling the story. Before she was halfway through, she'd started crying while hanging on to me like her life depended on it. But piece by piece, everything about that harrowing encounter with the ABB in an alley came out, as well as Shadow Stalker's late rescue and how Emma had met her once more, and had gotten infected with that poisonous, stupid philosophy.
By the time she was done, though still clinging to me, I was half considering to go to the PRT and detail every single fucking thing Sophia had ever done to me to get her thrown into juvie, more for what she'd done to Emma and our friendship than what she'd done to me, and recruitment potential be damned.
Which kind of showed how much my mindset had changed, if I thought about it. Two days ago, I'd simply have done that immediately, even without knowing any of what happened to Emma. Was that my power pushing me to use it, perhaps?
Perhaps I could wean Sophia away from that philosophy, though, and having more parahumans on your side during fights – which I was probably going to get into, capes were infamous for that according to last night's research – was always a good thing.
Right, yeah, definitely affecting me.
Well, to be fair, I didn't particularly care. It wasn't as if I was harming anyone by recruiting people. At worst, people might not receive punishment for crimes – assuming I wasn't joining the PRT, which I wasn't planning on considering I wanted to give orders, not take them – but I could live with that. Under my leadership they'd be doing good rather than evil anyway, which would do more to make up for what they'd done than being locked up.
After that tough conversation, things started to get easier. There was a lot to talk about, catching up after a year and a half without a friendly word.
Once evening approached, Dad arrived, which created a tense situation the moment he walked into the living room and saw Emma sitting next to me.
"I'm sorry!" Emma blurted out almost immediately.
I put a hand on her leg in an attempt to calm her down.
"We made up, Dad." I couldn't help but smile. "I have Emma back. And I'm never letting her go again." I turned to her as I said those last words.
"And I'm never abandoning you again, Taylor. That was the worst decision I ever made."
"I can't say I'm too happy about this," Dad said, finding his voice again, "but Taylor did say she was going to try, so I'm going to respect that. I'll be watching you, Emma."
The redhead only nodded contritely.
"Don't be too hostile to her, Dad. She's already beating herself up enough over everything she did, and I can't imagine Alan and Zoe will be much more pleased when they hear the entire story."
"They don't know yet?"
"Emma needs a bit of time before we can have that conversation, which is why she's here right now," I explained. "I want her to stay the night, too. She can sleep in my bed."
"And where would you sleep then?" Emma asked, confused.
"I don't need to sleep anymore, part of my power. I'll probably be researching the local capes more. Plus I'll be there for you if you wake up or something."
Emma nodded. "I'd like that."
By the time Emma had somewhat recovered, the hour-long lunch break was almost over. And though she wasn't actively crying anymore, she was in absolutely no state to attend class, either.
So I took her to the administrative office, holding her hand all the way there. It was probably a good thing the hallways were still empty, because Emma wouldn't have been able to handle the shocked reactions from the rest of the student body.
I pulled Emma into the secretary's office room, ignoring her attempt to remain out of sight.
"What's wrong?" the secretary asked, clearly worried about Emma's harried state. Tear tracks, red eyes, ruined make-up, jostled hair; she made quite a sight. While not visible on my dark clothes, there was actually a spot that was wet just from Emma's tears.
"Emma was confronted with some incredibly difficult personal stuff," I said. "I'd like to ask if we can get the rest of the day off so she can deal with them. I… don't think it'd be good for her to go to class right now, where she'd have to deal with everyone and their questions."
"We can make an exception for your friend," the secretary responded. "But I'm afraid I can't do the same for you, Miss…"
"Hebert. Taylor Hebert. And this is Emma Barnes." I didn't leave, however. Instead, I turned to Emma. "Can you give us a moment, Ems?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak but stepping out in the corridor nonetheless. I closed the door behind her.
"Ma'am…" I said, turning back to the secretary. "I don't trust her to be alone right now. I'm worried she might hurt herself."
It wasn't even a lie. I was genuinely worried about that, and I had no intention to let her out of my sight for the rest of the day.
The secretary hesitated for a moment. "That bad?"
I nodded. "That bad. She… I don't even know how to say anything without revealing things she wouldn't want others to know, but… well, I lost my mom a few years ago, a traffic accident. I think, if I compare how I felt when I heard the news to how Emma's feeling right now… I was probably doing better than she is."
She nodded. "You can go with her. I'll make sure you're marked as absent with proper reason."
"Thank you, ma'am."
I stepped back into the corridor and grabbed Emma into a hug, which she desperately returned.
"We'll go home," I said, soothing her. "My home. It'll be just the two of us until Dad gets home from work in the evening. More than enough time to talk."
"You got permission?" she asked, hopeful.
"I did, but I'd have come with you even if I hadn't," I said, releasing the hug, but keeping my arm around her waist. Emma needed the support, the physical contact, and if any of the Nazi wannabes at the school saw it and took issue with it, I could deal with them when the time came. Not that there was anything like that between us, of course. Nothing wrong with girls, in fact I wasn't sure whether I preferred them or boys, but just not Emma. She was supposed to be a sister, nothing more and nothing less.
"Why are you doing this for me?" Emma whispered.
"Because you're my sister and you need help," I said, vocalizing my thought from just before.
"Even after everything I did to you?"
"I know we aren't sisters by blood," I said, "but there's a reason I'm calling you that, as opposed to best friend. You can't just stop being sisters, Emma. Friends may grow apart, but if something happens with your sister, it's your duty to help her, to pull her back from the brink. I'm just glad I wasn't too late. For a few seconds… I truly believed I was."
I pulled her closer for a moment, thankful that the other path hadn't come to pass.
We walked out of the school and started to make our way to the bus stop.
"There's one thing I don't understand," Emma said. "Why now? Why not earlier? And how? I mean, I know you know me pretty well, but…"
"But it was like every single thing I said pierced you through the heart and forced you to confront all the doubts and regrets you'd hidden away," I finished her sentence.
"Yeah," Emma agreed. "Exactly that. I—I didn't even know those things myself. I didn't realize how much I wanted to be friends with you again until you pretty much told me."
I stopped walking and pulled her into another hug.
"And for all that I know you well, you don't get how I knew you that well," I summarized.
"Yeah."
I took a look around. We weren't at the bus stop yet, and it seemed no one was nearby enough to overhear, which was good. I did separate from the hug, however.
"Do you remember, right when I was about to leave the classroom, that you lost consciousness for a moment? I don't know whether you were sitting there already, so it might've not been super obvious."
Emma nodded. "Yeah, I remember. That was weird."
She hesitated, and I suspected she had an idea of what had happened, but wasn't sure yet, so I confirmed it for her.
"That was what's called a 'trigger event'," I explained. "It's the moment that gives capes their powers, and according to PHO, it's usually 'the worst day of their lives'."
"So… I really have powers?" Emma asked. "I wasn't sure whether I was just imagining things, but it just felt right."
"You do," I responded. In fact, I suspected that right now, I had a better understanding of her powers than she did, but that could wait until later.
"Wait," Emma said, picking up the thread from before. "Weren't you going to tell me how you knew what to say? What does me having powers to do with that?"
"I was going to tell you that, yes. Yesterday… well, you know what happened. During that, I went through a trigger event myself, and—"
Emma practically crashed into me. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Tay!" she exclaimed between renewed sobs. "I can't believe I made you go through that!"
I shushed her. "It's okay, Emma. Everything's going to be okay. I promise." I chuckled. "And hey, depending on how you look at it, didn't I make you go through the same thing?"
"That's not the same at all," Emma objected. "I did that to myself, you were just trying to help me."
"Either way, it doesn't matter," I said. "And to go back to your question, one power I got was the ability to understand just how to convince people to join or follow me – it's kind of like it helps me be a leader, you know. In your case, that meant, well, this."
"And you did that for me even after you triggered? Also, one power? Do you have more?"
I hesitated and instinctively looked at the sky. Could I? Should I? There was no way no one would see me and post about it on PHO. I didn't even have a cape account yet to clarify things with.
On the other hand, Emma might appreciate avoiding the busy bus, and perhaps being exposed to my aura of hope might do her some good, just like it had done Dad.
Eh, I could simply be a mystery for a while. I'd announce myself when I was ready for it.
I grabbed Emma's hand and pulled her along, then into a side street.
"Taylor? What are you doing?"
After making sure no one saw us, I transformed, spreading my wings lengthwise.
Emma gasped and stumbled a step back before taking a good look at me.
"That's awesome!"
"How about I fly you home instead?"
She seemed shocked for a moment before nodding enthusiastically and stepping forward. I put my arms around her, spending a moment to find a comfortable way to hold her – with my enhanced strength, it wasn't too difficult.
"Are you comfortable as well?" I asked. Emma had one hand around my neck and the other around my waist.
"Yeah, I am," Emma said. "Don't drop me though."
"Wasn't planning on it," I said with a grin, before jumping up and beating my wings to gain height.
"This is amazing!" Emma exclaimed as we started to rise.
"I know!" I agreed, a big grin on my face. "It's my first time too!" I looked down across the city as I gained some more height, then I started flying towards our neighborhood.
The city looked different from above. I realized that some streets didn't curve quite the way I thought they did, and some distances were just a little different than I'd have guessed they were. Buildings remained surprisingly tall even when I'd hit a comfortable cruising height – they didn't become nearly flat squares, like I had half expected. In fact, the Medhall building in the distance still reached my height, if not a bit higher. Cars, meanwhile, seemed to have slowed to a crawl.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Emma said, sounding slightly more apprehensive now.
"Don't worry!" I responded. "I don't actually need my wings to fly, even if it feels better to use them. I just need to think, and I'll go in the right direction."
Not only did we not have to deal with other people, but flight turned out to also be significantly faster, and it was only a few minutes later that we touched down on an empty street, where I transformed back.
"Isn't your place two blocks over?" Emma asked.
"If I land in my backyard, I doubt I'll be able to maintain a secret identity for long. This is already cutting it close enough."
Emma nodded in understanding, and we started walking.
"That felt absolutely amazing," she said. "I don't think I've felt that good in... you know, I don't think I've felt that good since we were friends." She saddened at that. "I'm sorry."
"You did have a bit of help," I said. "When I transform, it inspires hope and resolve in my friends and allies. When I revealed it to Dad yesterday, he showed a genuine smile for the first time I can remember since mom died."
Emma reached out and grabbed my hand. "I should've never made fun of you for that. You were right, by the way. I miss her too."
I smiled. "I still miss her, but it's hard to be sad when today, I feel like my friend came back from the dead."
Emma didn't respond to that, instead turning her eyes downward, and we actually walked in silence for a little while. No doubt, it had reminded her once more of everything she'd done, but there was no way for her to mistake my genuine joy at having her back, even without her power.
"Skip the first step."
"You still didn't fix that?" Emma asked incredulously, though she did skip over it.
"Neither Dad nor I have had a very good time of things," I pointed out.
"Oh, right..."
"Hey, there's a limit to how much moodiness I'm willing to accept, Emma. Keep your spirits up. We're friends again, and we've still got a lot to talk about. And catch up on, for that matter."
I unlocked the door, and once we were inside we made our way to the living room, where I pulled Emma next to me on the couch.
"First things first, you should probably call your mom and tell her you're here and, if I have my way, that you're staying for the night."
Emma looked confused at that. "You want me to stay for the night? Why?"
"Because I'm glad to have you back, and I want to spend as much time with you as possible." And because I was still worried she might harm herself if she was alone, but I wasn't going to tell her that. I did think it was a temporary thing though – but she was going to need a day or two to internalize that I really was giving her another chance.
Emma got her phone out – one of those fancy new smartphones with touchscreen – and dialed a number. With the less-focused sound output that these phones had compared to older mobile phones or landlines, I could follow both sides of the conversation.
"Emma, Is everything okay?"
Emma hesitated for a second before answering. "It will be. I think. Look, um, I'm at Taylor's place right now, and she thought it was a good idea if I called you so you knew that."
"Taylor? Really? I'm surprised. Didn't you have a falling-out? I thought you said she broke off contact."
I saw Emma freeze and lock up, so I scooted closer and put my arm around her, letting her relax slowly.
"Emma?"
Emma took a deep breath. "I... I was the one who broke off the contact, mom," she confessed. "Today—well, a lot happened today. I've been..." She sighed, holding the phone away from her mouth. "I can't do this."
I reached out, and she gave the phone to me.
"Hi Aunt Zoe. It's me, Taylor."
"Taylor! I haven't heard your voice in far too long. So what's going on?"
"We made up," I said. "Anything beyond that isn't a conversation to have over the phone. But Emma is feeling really shit right now, which is why we're home in the first place, and not at school, and we kind of need some time together to work through things. Is it okay if she stays here for the night? Then I can come along to your place tomorrow after school and we'll tell you about everything."
She audibly hesitated. "Alright then. I know you, and you've had plenty of sleepovers in the past. But when you're here tomorrow, I want the full story. Nothing left out."
I... wasn't actually sure I wanted to promise that. There had been a lot of bullying. But perhaps we could skim over any specific incidents.
"Of course," I replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, Aunt Zoe. It's been far too long anyway."
"Bye."
I ended the call and handed the phone back.
"Do we really need to tell them?" Emma asked timidly.
"There's no way we can get away with not telling them," I replied, grabbing Emma in an embrace. "I'll do what I can to convince them to not punish you too hard. You're already punishing yourself enough."
"Nothing is enough."
"Shut up with that nonsense. Next topic. Your powers."
"I'm not sure what they do," Emma admitted. "They keep insisting you're honest about helping me and taking care of me, though."
She sounded like she still doubted that was actually true.
"You're in luck, because I seem to be able to instinctively read and understand powers – both those of others, and my own. I might not catch everything, but I think your power helps you understand what people think of other people nearby, both on an individual level and in a group level. Or, rather, their attitudes towards them. So you'll always know exactly who likes each other, and who doesn't, and whether anyone might be plotting something."
"That sounds useless. What am I supposed to do with that?"
"It's not useless," I disagreed. "It'd be great to smooth over issues in a group or point people towards a common goal, in particular considering your social skills are pretty good already."
Emma frowned. "So basically, I spent a year and a half manipulating people into being assholes, then I finally realize how much of a bitch I've been, and I get a power that makes me better at manipulating people? That's messed up."
"Or you can use it to push people to get better," I pointed out. "If there's one thing I've almost immediately found about my power, it's that it makes me want to get people on my side. But after that? I don't get any help anymore, all I get, or at least that's what my intuition is telling me, and I've come to trust my power on that, is that I'll be able to make better decisions more quickly when it comes to the people following me.
"But let's say I just keep doing that, and I've got ten capes on my side. Capes are known for having a hard time working together, so it would be a real challenge to keep the peace? But you could do that."
"Ten capes? Are you serious?"
I smiled. "We've already got two – you and me. I talked to Panacea in the hospital yesterday, and we agreed to meet again. She doesn't seem happy right now, so I'm hoping I can give her a better place."
"Panacea?" Emma asked, shocked. "You needed her? Tay, I'm sorry!"
"Shh, it's fine," I responded.
"What did you need her for?" she asked hesitantly.
"I'll tell you some other time," I responded. I didn't think it was a good idea to confront Emma with the details right now. "But anyway, there's her, and I want to at least give getting Sophia on my side a try, so that'd be four already."
"You know that she's a cape?" Emma asked, surprised.
"I can recognize parahumans on sight," I explained. "Once I knew Sophia was one, it was a simple process of elimination. Wasn't too difficult to figure out that she's Shadow Stalker."
"Oh."
"Which does make me wonder what the hell the PRT is doing, if they can't even control their own Wards," I remarked.
Emma looked somewhat guilty at that.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I kinda pushed her. To bully you. Well, I mean, she'd probably have done it to others anyway, but I made her focus on you. Also, Dad was a character witness for her when she joined the Wards, and he didn't know anything about what we did at Winslow."
I hugged her close once more. "It's okay, Emma. No focusing on the past, it's about our path forward. I already have ideas on how to deal with Sophia."
Emma relaxed minutely at that. "Good, because I'm not sure I'd be able to convince her to stop. I can probably get Madison to do so, though."
I laughed softly. "That won't be needed. Madison is too much of a cape geek to ever bully someone she knows to be a cape. All I need to be worried about is that she might talk my ears off my head with questions."
"You told her?" Emma exclaimed.
"Remember what my power does," I pointed out. "I knew that the only thing I had to do was show her my transformation and she'd effectively be 'on my side'."
"You're placing a lot of trust in your power."
"Hey, it paid off so far. Twice, already." I grabbed Emma into another full-on hug to emphasize that.
We sat in silence for a while, relishing in each other's physical presence. It really happened, I thought to myself. I had Emma back. It was hard to believe, even while she was there, in my arms.
Finally, I let go of her.
"We do have a harder topic we really need to talk about," I said. "Namely, what the hell happened while I was at summer camp, and how was Sophia – or Shadow Stalker – involved?"
Emma turned her head down.
"If we don't talk about it," I pressed, "I can't help you deal with it either. And I'm quite sure you haven't been dealing with it so far."
"Yeah," Emma said hesitantly. "Yeah, you probably have a point there."
Slowly, haltingly, she started telling the story. Before she was halfway through, she'd started crying while hanging on to me like her life depended on it. But piece by piece, everything about that harrowing encounter with the ABB in an alley came out, as well as Shadow Stalker's late rescue and how Emma had met her once more, and had gotten infected with that poisonous, stupid philosophy.
By the time she was done, though still clinging to me, I was half considering to go to the PRT and detail every single fucking thing Sophia had ever done to me to get her thrown into juvie, more for what she'd done to Emma and our friendship than what she'd done to me, and recruitment potential be damned.
Which kind of showed how much my mindset had changed, if I thought about it. Two days ago, I'd simply have done that immediately, even without knowing any of what happened to Emma. Was that my power pushing me to use it, perhaps?
Perhaps I could wean Sophia away from that philosophy, though, and having more parahumans on your side during fights – which I was probably going to get into, capes were infamous for that according to last night's research – was always a good thing.
Right, yeah, definitely affecting me.
Well, to be fair, I didn't particularly care. It wasn't as if I was harming anyone by recruiting people. At worst, people might not receive punishment for crimes – assuming I wasn't joining the PRT, which I wasn't planning on considering I wanted to give orders, not take them – but I could live with that. Under my leadership they'd be doing good rather than evil anyway, which would do more to make up for what they'd done than being locked up.
After that tough conversation, things started to get easier. There was a lot to talk about, catching up after a year and a half without a friendly word.
Once evening approached, Dad arrived, which created a tense situation the moment he walked into the living room and saw Emma sitting next to me.
"I'm sorry!" Emma blurted out almost immediately.
I put a hand on her leg in an attempt to calm her down.
"We made up, Dad." I couldn't help but smile. "I have Emma back. And I'm never letting her go again." I turned to her as I said those last words.
"And I'm never abandoning you again, Taylor. That was the worst decision I ever made."
"I can't say I'm too happy about this," Dad said, finding his voice again, "but Taylor did say she was going to try, so I'm going to respect that. I'll be watching you, Emma."
The redhead only nodded contritely.
"Don't be too hostile to her, Dad. She's already beating herself up enough over everything she did, and I can't imagine Alan and Zoe will be much more pleased when they hear the entire story."
"They don't know yet?"
"Emma needs a bit of time before we can have that conversation, which is why she's here right now," I explained. "I want her to stay the night, too. She can sleep in my bed."
"And where would you sleep then?" Emma asked, confused.
"I don't need to sleep anymore, part of my power. I'll probably be researching the local capes more. Plus I'll be there for you if you wake up or something."
Emma nodded. "I'd like that."
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A decent resolution to the Em-mess.
I can't help but wonder just how stone-faced Zoey will be when she realizes it took a Master-Thinker Parahuman Power to make her daughter stop being a monster.
If Emma is very, very lucky, Zoey might reveal that she indulged in her own sociopathic streak during her own youth, and commiserate how she never thought to actively look for her own darker traits to repeat in her second daughter after vetting her firstborn Anne.
Otherwise... I'm worried Zoey might rival Emma for trigger-event worthy despair.
Alan is a non-person in this whole affair, as is normal. He's just some guy, very much a wife-piloted mecha-suit, as humans go.
I can't help but wonder just how stone-faced Zoey will be when she realizes it took a Master-Thinker Parahuman Power to make her daughter stop being a monster.
If Emma is very, very lucky, Zoey might reveal that she indulged in her own sociopathic streak during her own youth, and commiserate how she never thought to actively look for her own darker traits to repeat in her second daughter after vetting her firstborn Anne.
Otherwise... I'm worried Zoey might rival Emma for trigger-event worthy despair.
Alan is a non-person in this whole affair, as is normal. He's just some guy, very much a wife-piloted mecha-suit, as humans go.
That's certainly some interesting headcanon for Zoe.
...unless I missed something somewhere?
Also, note that there's no master aspect to Taylor's recruiting power - she's extremely good at recruiting people, but she cannot affect their thoughts, emotions, actions or anything like that in any way. Unlike, say, Jack Slash, who has a Master-Thinker hybrid power that both gives him intel and lets him (subconsciously) affect the actions others will and will not take even without talking to them. Taylor can recruit people who could theoretically be recruited without power usage and them only - her power just tells her the information she needs to know and the actions she needs to take to actually put that into practice.
This was a good feeling chapter. I am looking forward to seeing the approach Taylor is going to take with Sophia.
No headcanon here, just vocalizing possible AU elements the story might yet introduce, until the relevant chapters are written, that is.
1.4 Awakening
AN: Not really an SV problem but also adding it here for completeness' sake: If you use the review/comment section to flame me, in particular for something like making changes to canon in a fic branded as an AU, your review/comment may be posted on Discord to be made fun of.
The emotional exhaustion coupled with Emma's current mental state led to an almost strange night, where she fell asleep easily but woke up several times.
Every time, I was there to help her calm down, putting my online research on pause. There had been a few sightings of my flight the previous day, but no recordings had been made. As a result, PHO was aware of it, but didn't have much to go on.
Some people suggested I was Purity, but the person who'd made the thread was apparently a bit of a cape fanatic, and pointed out that Purity was brighter and did not have wings.
Perhaps more interesting was that this prompted Winged_One to insinuate a link to the Simurgh, despite their own username. However, Specific_Protagonist had immediately shot that down and pointed to a Case 53 and three other capes whose Breaker or Changer forms looked like regular winged humanoids. And had neglected to make any kind of horny comment about my not-completely-human appearance, which was probably the most surprising part of the post.
Which was also something Winged_One felt the need to point out, apparently. Shame for her that Specific_Protagonist was entirely too shameless about her preferences to be bothered by that.
The thread was mostly amusing, but as I continued reading, it also made me realize that I would have to make sure I had the right PR.
In fact, I'd hardly thought about the future so far, as I'd been too preoccupied with first fixing Emma and then taking care of her.
It had barely been thirty-six hours since I'd woken up in the hospital with powers. Huh. It felt far longer than that.
In the morning, I brought it up with Emma as we walked to the bus stop.
"I really hadn't thought about that yet," she echoed my sentiment. "Or the fact that I'm going to have to think about it too."
"That had totally slipped my mind," I admitted. Emma's powers were rather more subtle than mine – or at least, more subtle than some of mine – and therefore easier to forget about.
"Well, we're obviously going to be heroes," Emma said.
"Wait, you're saying you don't want to travel the country killing everyone you see like the Slaughterhouse Nine does?" I teased. "Because that's what I was thinking of."
"Stop being silly," Emma said. "You're the most adorkable, heroic person I've ever met. As shown by the fact that you helped me instead of giving up on me, even after everything I did to you."
"That's only because my power wanted me to," I objected.
"Stop saying demeaning things about my friend. But anyway, heroes. I'm... not sure if joining the Wards is a good idea."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because Sophia is one," she pointed out. "I really don't know how I'm going to deal with her today, you know. What a hero she is. Her ideas totally fucked me in the head, and rather than get concerned when I started suggesting the things we could do to you, she encouraged me."
"We deal with her by ignoring her," I suggested. "If she wants to start shit, we tell her to back off. And in the longer term, well, I'm thinking I might approach her as a cape, see if I can manage something that way."
"But right now joining the Wards is a bad idea," Emma repeated.
"Yeah, I've got to agree on that. I think that if she learns of me having a hero identity before she gets to know said identity, she'll never respect me, no matter what I do. There's also New Wave, but I don't know if joining them is a good idea, because we both have unpowered family members that might be in danger if we reveal our civilian identities."
"Agreed. And because there's no other heroes around in Brockton Bay, that leaves only starting our own team, I guess?" Her voice turned questioning in the end.
"That's probably where I wanted to go anyway," I admitted. "I want to lead. I don't want to be a follower. And I don't think my power would like it if I did that, anyway. So, we start our own team of heroes, and take the fight to the villains."
"But not me," Emma said. "I'm staying away from those fights; I won't be of any use there."
"Probably not," I agreed. "But we'll see when the time comes. Perhaps your power has niche uses that would make you useful."
We'd arrived at the bus stop, but there were no other people waiting, so we could continue chatting.
"So, do you have any ideas for a cape name already?" Emma asked.
"Queen," I said immediately, surprising even myself. "I'm not sure where that came from, actually. It feels... right?"
"It's a bit... pretentious?" Emma said, as if trying the word out. "I don't know if that's the right term." She chuckled. "It's more the kind of name I'd have taken, really."
"It kind of is," I realized. "But it doesn't really fit with your power. I guess it does fit with mine, don't you think? I get people on my side, I can lead well, and I have a Breaker form that inspires hope and resolve in my allies, while doing the opposite for enemies. It all points to leading and being in charge." I shrugged. "Still kind of weird how quickly I came up with the name, but if the shoe fits..."
"What about me?" Emma asked. "I'm not really having any ideas."
"I guess you do well in dealing with people," I said. "Figuring out what they want, using that to get them to agree on things, and so on. Also, what we talked about yesterday; I'm going to end up collecting capes, I just know that, and you can keep their noses pointed in the same direction, kind of like a manager."
"Ah yes, the fearsome cape 'Manager'," Emma chuckled.
I snorted. "I never said that was a good name."
"I guess I'll probably end up doing the cape equivalent of a boring desk job," Emma said, sobering up. "Kind of weird, if you think about it. But I guess I do enjoy managing people, even if I'm a bit hesitant right now considering what I ended up doing the previous time around."
"There was one name that popped up in my head," I said. In fact, it had popped up almost as quickly as Queen, and I just hadn't blurted this one out immediately. "Which I suppose sort of has to do with those things."
Emma frowned. "So, what is it?"
"I'm not sure how much I like it, myself," I admitted. "Administrator."
Emma frowned. "I get what you mean. At least it's not as lame as 'Manager'."
Just then, the bus arrived, putting an end to our privacy. Once we sat down, I steered the conversation towards safer topics such as the local cape scene, where I could educate Emma on everything I'd learned over the last two nights – and she could tell me some specifics she'd heard from Sophia – without anyone around us thinking we were anything but cape fans.
As soon as we got off the bus, we resumed our previous conversation.
"I don't think Administrator is all that bad," Emma said. "You're right that I'd basically be administrating people, also depending on how many we have, and it also implies that I'm not a combatant."
"Which is true."
"Exactly. I'm the Administrator who stays back and never shows her face – cape face, at least. Well, not in combat."
"I'd probably want you with me if I didn't expect combat," I agreed. "And it just feels right. Almost in the same way that it feels right to recruit people, actually."
"Strange."
"You think my power might have had something to do with the names?" I speculated.
"I don't know," Emma said. "I've never heard Sophia talk about her power pushing her to do anything in the first place, you know. No clue what it's even supposed to push her to. Infiltrate buildings, or something? But she doesn't like that kind of thing, she wants to follow you until you're committing a crime, and then she comes down hard and fast. And very visible."
"That's weird," I agreed. "Her power is perfect for typical Stranger things, not for fighting. She's basically just a normal person who's harder to hit and can get through armor with her bolts. Not exactly a big boost to combat."
We arrived at the Winslow grounds.
"Do we... stay together?" Emma asked, suddenly hesitant.
I hesitated, and took a deep breath while I considered my answer. As much as I feared how Emma might respond, I could only say one thing. "I can manage on my own if you're worried about people's reactions."
"It would probably be easier," Emma said contemplatively, and I braced myself for her final decision. "But I think I've probably let that influence my choices too much, haven't I? Besides, I don't want to hide that we're friends again."
I couldn't help but smile brightly, and I even grabbed her in another hug. "Thanks, Emma."
I was no longer...
Oh, damn it, now the emotions were coming out?
"I'm finally not alone at school anymore," I couldn't help but voice. I was only partially successful at not crying.
"Never again," Emma promised. "And if I'm ever screwing up again, just hit me over the head a few times, Taylor."
"I'll do that," I said, amused.
"What do you say we count this as our first day of high school?" Emma proposed as we let go of each other.
I smiled. "I like that."
Sophia Hess wanted some fucking answers.
The week had started off like normal, but had then gotten progressively more weird. On Monday, they'd pranked Hebert and reminded her of the school's pecking order. Then, on Tuesday, Sophia had barely seen Emma at all. She'd been there in the morning, had even shared a class with Sophia, but then she hadn't shown up for lunch or any of their afternoon classes. At the same time, Madison had been strangely jittery and hyperactive, even compared to her normal behavior.
And now, on Wednesday, Sophia had heard from multiple people that Emma had been seen together with Hebert. She'd have discounted it as baseless high school gossip, except for the fact that she was currently standing in one of the doorways to the cafeteria, and the two were sitting right there, chatting with each other.
Perhaps Emma had already started her next prank? Sophia remembered that back when they'd just started Winslow, Emma had faked that she wanted to be friends again two or three times, but they'd stopped trying when Hebert stopped falling for it.
But why hadn't she told Sophia about it? And why had she started it now already? They hadn't even had time to watch Hebert's reaction to the locker prank yet.
Sophia spotted Madison entering the cafeteria from another angle and intercepted her.
"Did Emma start the next prank already?"
"Oh, hey Sophia." Madison scanned the busy room, and after a few seconds her eyes landed on Emma and Hebert. "Wow. How did she manage that?"
"I know right," Sophia agreed, glad the world hadn't gone completely crazy. "Thought that dumbass had stopped falling for the 'let's be friends again' prank by now. So, do we leave Emma to it for the moment?"
Madison frowned cutely. Damnit, Sophia hated how everything Madison did was cute. If she hadn't known the viciousness that was hiding underneath, she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with the girl.
"I don't think this is a prank," Madison said.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I had a chat with Taylor yesterday," Madison explained. "She proposed a deal with me that I liked, so I won't be helping out with pranks on her anymore."
"What?" Sophia demanded.
Madison ignored her and continued talking. "She also said she was going to talk to Emma. I don't know about what, but it was definitely her idea, not Emma's idea. She might've suggested a similar deal with her for all I know, though I don't know how she'd convince Emma."
"That sounds like fucking bullshit," Sophia growled. "The thing Emma wants most is to show Hebert her fucking place. What did Hebert propose to you, actually?" Sophia certainly didn't have a fucking clue what could possibly convince Madison to abandon her and Emma like that. Or... maybe just her. Seriously, what the fuck was going on?
"Sorry," Madison said. "It's not something I can tell anyone else. Not even you and Emma, though I wouldn't be completely surprised if she tells Emma, the way they're sitting there."
"I told you my secrets, didn't I?" Sophia argued, referring to her cape identity.
"It was part of the deal that I wouldn't tell you," Madison said.
The insolent little bitch.
Sophia stalked off to the table where the unlikely pair sat, Madison trailing behind her.
"What's going on here?" she demanded.
"Lunch," Hebert responded flippantly.
"Don't take that tone with me," Sophia hissed.
"Calm down, Sophia," Emma said. She was looking at Sophia rather intensely, Sophia noted.
"Well, what's going on then?" Sophia asked, returning the stare.
"What's going on, is that I don't want to deal with this bullshit right now," Emma said. "So how about you either sit down and accept that Taylor's also sitting here, or you go sit somewhere else?"
Sophia's eyes narrowed.
What the hell had happened to Emma since yesterday?
It was like she was a totally different person.
Wait.
She shot a suspicious glare at Hebert.
"Wait, seriously?" Emma exclaimed, but Sophia ignored her.
"What the fuck did you do?" she demanded from Hebert.
Said girl, to Sophia's surprise, seemed to have grown something of a spine, as she didn't look away. "I don't know. Why aren't you a little more precise? I've had some very busy days, Sophia."
"Did. You. Master. Emma?" Sophia growled out. She found it hard to believe a wimp like Hebert could even trigger, but that would leave her without an explanation for what had happened to Emma.
Hebert blinked. "Oh, wow. I can't say I expected to be accused of mind controlling people today. Where did you even get that idea from?"
"I don't know," Sophia said acidly. "Perhaps because Emma is acting completely different from normal?"
"I'm sitting right here, you know," Emma said, sounding annoyed at the situation. Which was understandable, if she was Mastered.
"Completely different from normal?" Hebert asked. She theatrically raised her hand to tap her chin as if she were thinking. "Hmm, where have I seen that before? Oh, right! I know! When I went to summer camp for a few weeks, and then when I came back, my friend had made a new friend and didn't want anything to do with me anymore!"
Sophia scoffed. "Are you fucking serious? She moved on from you, Hebert."
"Are you sure you didn't just forget to renew whatever Master effect you put on her?" Hebert taunted.
Sophia lunged forward to grab her by the collar and get started on a well-deserved beating slash interrogation.
"Stop!" Emma exclaimed.
"Give me one fucking reason to," Sophia growled.
"Because if I talk to Blackwell, you're in trouble," Emma responded, her voice surprisingly even.
Fuck. She would do that, wouldn't she? And she was right. Blackwell wouldn't listen to Hebert, but she would listen to Emma.
Unless maybe Sophia voiced her suspicions regarding the Mastering?
"How about this," Hebert spoke up. "If you really believe I did Master Emma, there's a simple solution, isn't there? We just go to the PRT. We'll both share our own story, start to finish, everything that happened since I got back from summer camp. I tell them about how Emma suddenly didn't want anything to do with me anymore, all the crap you pulled on me over the past year and a half, and so on, including that you put me in the hospital two days ago. You tell them... I don't know, whatever fantasy you live in." Her smile seemed to be all teeth. "Deal, or do you withdraw your accusation?"
Fuck.
Sophia was well aware that her behavior towards Hebert was not acceptable by squeamish PRT standards. The only reason she wasn't in a lot more trouble already was because both Blackwell and Sophia's handler didn't want the hassle. If Hebert, however accidentally, bypassed them and talked straight to the PRT, in particular in an investigation as thorough as any claims of Mastering... Sophia would go to juvie, no doubt about that, while Hebert would likely get the same offer of joining the Wards on probation that Sophia had gotten, and that was assuming she was a Master and there was nothing else at play here, which Sophia couldn't be certain of.
"Fine," Sophia bit out. "I've said nothing. But I'm warning you, Hebert. Don't pull anything funny or I will come for you."
"Yeah, yeah, sure. If you don't mind, I was talking to Emma."
"Fuck you," Sophia said by way of parting words before turning and stalking away.
"Well, that was something," Madison said, pulling up a chair and sitting down at our table. Right, I had made that promise. She looked at me and Emma in turn. "Uh, how much did you tell Emma?"
"Emma knows everything you know, and quite a bit more," I said.
"Can I uh, can I ask what you talked about yesterday?"
I motioned for Emma to take the lead.
"Did Taylor tell you about her Thinker power?" she asked.
"No, she didn't," Madison said, looking slightly affronted as she turned to me.
I shrugged. "Long story short, it helps me figure out how to get people on 'my side', so to speak. Obviously, I used it to talk to you."
Madison frowned. "Yeah, that's kinda obvious now that I think about it. Not that knowing it makes me change my mind. So... you used that with Emma as well? But what about Sophia? You didn't sound like you were trying to change her opinion of you just now..."
"No comment on Sophia," I said. No need to share all of my plans, in particular considering Madison probably held Sophia in high regard as well, with her being a cape and all. "I'll let Emma tell you as much or little as she wants to."
"Taylor saw some things about me that I'd pushed down," Emma said quietly. "Things I'd tried to ignore. She just... pierced through all the lies, popping them like balloons. And that made me realize that Taylor was, and still is, a better friend than anyone could hope for, and much better than I deserve."
"That sounds... tough," Madison said. She actually sounded genuinely concerned for Emma, which wasn't something I'd really expected. Then again, I didn't exactly have a well-rounded image of Madison and Sophia.
Emma laughed bitterly. "You could say that. Don't tell anyone else – and definitely not Sophia – but... when Taylor was done with everything; when she was about to leave, actually... I triggered."
Madison gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "You too? That's... wow. I'm sharing classes with... uh..."
She trailed off, as if she'd been about to run her mouth.
"I know about Sophia," I offered.
"Oh. Well, what I wanted to say, I'm apparently sharing classes with three capes then." She genuinely looked a little star-struck.
"Four, actually," I said, turning to Emma. "Did you spot Rune yet?"
"Wait, what?" Madison hissed. "Rune? Here? Are you certain?"
Emma scanned the crowds.
"I'm certain, yes," I told Madison. "Not that I'm going to go and reveal people's civilian identities, of course. I'm not stupid."
"Found her," Emma said. "I'm not sure I'd have realized she was Rune if you hadn't told me to look for her though."
"Wait a second. Back up here. How the hell are you both able to spot capes in their civilian identities? That's like, super rare! And a danger to the Unwritten Rules if people ever learn of it."
"For me, it's simple," I said. It felt a little strange to reveal so much to Madison, but it really did seem like it was working. "I can recognize parahumans on sight. With some wiki reading, I memorized all of Brockton Bay's publically known capes, and that means it's just a process of elimination."
"It's a bit harder for me," Emma said. "My power helps me see what people think of each other and stuff like that, if they're in the same room. Also what they think of groups of people, but it's all in an abstract manner. More like attitudes than direct thoughts, if you get the idea. But anyway, I just looked through the groups of Empire sympathizers until I found the oddity."
"What oddity?" Madison asked.
Emma hesitated.
"Well, I guess it's too subtle to see anyway, I doubt I'd have been able to see it before I got my powers. Put simply, the leader of one of the groups takes cues from a girl that otherwise looks and acts like a hanger-on."
"I just know I'll be looking for her everywhere, now," Madison said.
"It's not like she's going to suddenly attack minorities here at school. Well, outside of normal Empire sympathizer behavior." I paused. "Jesus, this school is fucked up. Like, even when ignoring the part where every single fucking teacher was willing to look the other way because Sophia is a track star and Ward and Alan is a lawyer."
Madison momentarily looked confused, but Emma's "I'm sorry" cued her in on what I was referring to.
"It's alright, Emma," I said, reassuring her. "Let's look towards the future."
"Is it really that easy for you?" Madison asked. "Didn't you say you were in the hospital after the... after last Monday?"
"With Emma, yes," I responded. "She's been my friend for years and I saw yesterday that she's genuine. With you... I'm willing to give you a chance because I know you're not going to bully me now that you know I'm a cape, and I find I really don't care about revenge. Which might also be my power nudging me, to be honest. But I'm warning you. Try to pull shit on someone else like you've been doing to me, and I will find a way to make you regret it."
"Right," Madison said, nodding fervently. "Got it." She hesitated. "I guess you told Emma something similar?"
"Nah, Emma wouldn't hurt a fly right now. If anything, I think I might have to push her to actually use her powers."
Emma grimaced. "Yeah, I'm not exactly eager to dive into that."
"Why not?" Madison asked.
"Do you really need to ask?" Emma responded with some frustration. "Because I used my social skills to make my best friend's life hell, and I got rewarded with an even better ability to manipulate other people into doing what I want."
"Oh, right," Madison said. "So can I ask what you're going to do? As capes, I mean."
"Sure," I responded. "Next step: recruit Rune."
The look on Madison's face was priceless.
AN: In between this chapter and the currently-unfinished chapter 1.5, I will be posting Emma's Confession, a canon Sidestory featuring Emma (and Taylor) telling Alan and Zoe about everything that's been happening. Due to a combination of reasons, I felt like it doesn't fit in the main plot, and reading it won't be mandatory. Once it's live, I will add a link to this post, and once I upload 1.5 I will also add a link to the start of that chapter. (edit: or just scroll down, it's literally two messages from here)
EDIT: After reader feedback, aforementioned scene has been made part of the main threadmarks, so none of that is needed anymore.
The emotional exhaustion coupled with Emma's current mental state led to an almost strange night, where she fell asleep easily but woke up several times.
Every time, I was there to help her calm down, putting my online research on pause. There had been a few sightings of my flight the previous day, but no recordings had been made. As a result, PHO was aware of it, but didn't have much to go on.
Some people suggested I was Purity, but the person who'd made the thread was apparently a bit of a cape fanatic, and pointed out that Purity was brighter and did not have wings.
Perhaps more interesting was that this prompted Winged_One to insinuate a link to the Simurgh, despite their own username. However, Specific_Protagonist had immediately shot that down and pointed to a Case 53 and three other capes whose Breaker or Changer forms looked like regular winged humanoids. And had neglected to make any kind of horny comment about my not-completely-human appearance, which was probably the most surprising part of the post.
Which was also something Winged_One felt the need to point out, apparently. Shame for her that Specific_Protagonist was entirely too shameless about her preferences to be bothered by that.
The thread was mostly amusing, but as I continued reading, it also made me realize that I would have to make sure I had the right PR.
In fact, I'd hardly thought about the future so far, as I'd been too preoccupied with first fixing Emma and then taking care of her.
It had barely been thirty-six hours since I'd woken up in the hospital with powers. Huh. It felt far longer than that.
In the morning, I brought it up with Emma as we walked to the bus stop.
"I really hadn't thought about that yet," she echoed my sentiment. "Or the fact that I'm going to have to think about it too."
"That had totally slipped my mind," I admitted. Emma's powers were rather more subtle than mine – or at least, more subtle than some of mine – and therefore easier to forget about.
"Well, we're obviously going to be heroes," Emma said.
"Wait, you're saying you don't want to travel the country killing everyone you see like the Slaughterhouse Nine does?" I teased. "Because that's what I was thinking of."
"Stop being silly," Emma said. "You're the most adorkable, heroic person I've ever met. As shown by the fact that you helped me instead of giving up on me, even after everything I did to you."
"That's only because my power wanted me to," I objected.
"Stop saying demeaning things about my friend. But anyway, heroes. I'm... not sure if joining the Wards is a good idea."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because Sophia is one," she pointed out. "I really don't know how I'm going to deal with her today, you know. What a hero she is. Her ideas totally fucked me in the head, and rather than get concerned when I started suggesting the things we could do to you, she encouraged me."
"We deal with her by ignoring her," I suggested. "If she wants to start shit, we tell her to back off. And in the longer term, well, I'm thinking I might approach her as a cape, see if I can manage something that way."
"But right now joining the Wards is a bad idea," Emma repeated.
"Yeah, I've got to agree on that. I think that if she learns of me having a hero identity before she gets to know said identity, she'll never respect me, no matter what I do. There's also New Wave, but I don't know if joining them is a good idea, because we both have unpowered family members that might be in danger if we reveal our civilian identities."
"Agreed. And because there's no other heroes around in Brockton Bay, that leaves only starting our own team, I guess?" Her voice turned questioning in the end.
"That's probably where I wanted to go anyway," I admitted. "I want to lead. I don't want to be a follower. And I don't think my power would like it if I did that, anyway. So, we start our own team of heroes, and take the fight to the villains."
"But not me," Emma said. "I'm staying away from those fights; I won't be of any use there."
"Probably not," I agreed. "But we'll see when the time comes. Perhaps your power has niche uses that would make you useful."
We'd arrived at the bus stop, but there were no other people waiting, so we could continue chatting.
"So, do you have any ideas for a cape name already?" Emma asked.
"Queen," I said immediately, surprising even myself. "I'm not sure where that came from, actually. It feels... right?"
"It's a bit... pretentious?" Emma said, as if trying the word out. "I don't know if that's the right term." She chuckled. "It's more the kind of name I'd have taken, really."
"It kind of is," I realized. "But it doesn't really fit with your power. I guess it does fit with mine, don't you think? I get people on my side, I can lead well, and I have a Breaker form that inspires hope and resolve in my allies, while doing the opposite for enemies. It all points to leading and being in charge." I shrugged. "Still kind of weird how quickly I came up with the name, but if the shoe fits..."
"What about me?" Emma asked. "I'm not really having any ideas."
"I guess you do well in dealing with people," I said. "Figuring out what they want, using that to get them to agree on things, and so on. Also, what we talked about yesterday; I'm going to end up collecting capes, I just know that, and you can keep their noses pointed in the same direction, kind of like a manager."
"Ah yes, the fearsome cape 'Manager'," Emma chuckled.
I snorted. "I never said that was a good name."
"I guess I'll probably end up doing the cape equivalent of a boring desk job," Emma said, sobering up. "Kind of weird, if you think about it. But I guess I do enjoy managing people, even if I'm a bit hesitant right now considering what I ended up doing the previous time around."
"There was one name that popped up in my head," I said. In fact, it had popped up almost as quickly as Queen, and I just hadn't blurted this one out immediately. "Which I suppose sort of has to do with those things."
Emma frowned. "So, what is it?"
"I'm not sure how much I like it, myself," I admitted. "Administrator."
Emma frowned. "I get what you mean. At least it's not as lame as 'Manager'."
Just then, the bus arrived, putting an end to our privacy. Once we sat down, I steered the conversation towards safer topics such as the local cape scene, where I could educate Emma on everything I'd learned over the last two nights – and she could tell me some specifics she'd heard from Sophia – without anyone around us thinking we were anything but cape fans.
As soon as we got off the bus, we resumed our previous conversation.
"I don't think Administrator is all that bad," Emma said. "You're right that I'd basically be administrating people, also depending on how many we have, and it also implies that I'm not a combatant."
"Which is true."
"Exactly. I'm the Administrator who stays back and never shows her face – cape face, at least. Well, not in combat."
"I'd probably want you with me if I didn't expect combat," I agreed. "And it just feels right. Almost in the same way that it feels right to recruit people, actually."
"Strange."
"You think my power might have had something to do with the names?" I speculated.
"I don't know," Emma said. "I've never heard Sophia talk about her power pushing her to do anything in the first place, you know. No clue what it's even supposed to push her to. Infiltrate buildings, or something? But she doesn't like that kind of thing, she wants to follow you until you're committing a crime, and then she comes down hard and fast. And very visible."
"That's weird," I agreed. "Her power is perfect for typical Stranger things, not for fighting. She's basically just a normal person who's harder to hit and can get through armor with her bolts. Not exactly a big boost to combat."
We arrived at the Winslow grounds.
"Do we... stay together?" Emma asked, suddenly hesitant.
I hesitated, and took a deep breath while I considered my answer. As much as I feared how Emma might respond, I could only say one thing. "I can manage on my own if you're worried about people's reactions."
"It would probably be easier," Emma said contemplatively, and I braced myself for her final decision. "But I think I've probably let that influence my choices too much, haven't I? Besides, I don't want to hide that we're friends again."
I couldn't help but smile brightly, and I even grabbed her in another hug. "Thanks, Emma."
I was no longer...
Oh, damn it, now the emotions were coming out?
"I'm finally not alone at school anymore," I couldn't help but voice. I was only partially successful at not crying.
"Never again," Emma promised. "And if I'm ever screwing up again, just hit me over the head a few times, Taylor."
"I'll do that," I said, amused.
"What do you say we count this as our first day of high school?" Emma proposed as we let go of each other.
I smiled. "I like that."
Sophia Hess wanted some fucking answers.
The week had started off like normal, but had then gotten progressively more weird. On Monday, they'd pranked Hebert and reminded her of the school's pecking order. Then, on Tuesday, Sophia had barely seen Emma at all. She'd been there in the morning, had even shared a class with Sophia, but then she hadn't shown up for lunch or any of their afternoon classes. At the same time, Madison had been strangely jittery and hyperactive, even compared to her normal behavior.
And now, on Wednesday, Sophia had heard from multiple people that Emma had been seen together with Hebert. She'd have discounted it as baseless high school gossip, except for the fact that she was currently standing in one of the doorways to the cafeteria, and the two were sitting right there, chatting with each other.
Perhaps Emma had already started her next prank? Sophia remembered that back when they'd just started Winslow, Emma had faked that she wanted to be friends again two or three times, but they'd stopped trying when Hebert stopped falling for it.
But why hadn't she told Sophia about it? And why had she started it now already? They hadn't even had time to watch Hebert's reaction to the locker prank yet.
Sophia spotted Madison entering the cafeteria from another angle and intercepted her.
"Did Emma start the next prank already?"
"Oh, hey Sophia." Madison scanned the busy room, and after a few seconds her eyes landed on Emma and Hebert. "Wow. How did she manage that?"
"I know right," Sophia agreed, glad the world hadn't gone completely crazy. "Thought that dumbass had stopped falling for the 'let's be friends again' prank by now. So, do we leave Emma to it for the moment?"
Madison frowned cutely. Damnit, Sophia hated how everything Madison did was cute. If she hadn't known the viciousness that was hiding underneath, she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with the girl.
"I don't think this is a prank," Madison said.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I had a chat with Taylor yesterday," Madison explained. "She proposed a deal with me that I liked, so I won't be helping out with pranks on her anymore."
"What?" Sophia demanded.
Madison ignored her and continued talking. "She also said she was going to talk to Emma. I don't know about what, but it was definitely her idea, not Emma's idea. She might've suggested a similar deal with her for all I know, though I don't know how she'd convince Emma."
"That sounds like fucking bullshit," Sophia growled. "The thing Emma wants most is to show Hebert her fucking place. What did Hebert propose to you, actually?" Sophia certainly didn't have a fucking clue what could possibly convince Madison to abandon her and Emma like that. Or... maybe just her. Seriously, what the fuck was going on?
"Sorry," Madison said. "It's not something I can tell anyone else. Not even you and Emma, though I wouldn't be completely surprised if she tells Emma, the way they're sitting there."
"I told you my secrets, didn't I?" Sophia argued, referring to her cape identity.
"It was part of the deal that I wouldn't tell you," Madison said.
The insolent little bitch.
Sophia stalked off to the table where the unlikely pair sat, Madison trailing behind her.
"What's going on here?" she demanded.
"Lunch," Hebert responded flippantly.
"Don't take that tone with me," Sophia hissed.
"Calm down, Sophia," Emma said. She was looking at Sophia rather intensely, Sophia noted.
"Well, what's going on then?" Sophia asked, returning the stare.
"What's going on, is that I don't want to deal with this bullshit right now," Emma said. "So how about you either sit down and accept that Taylor's also sitting here, or you go sit somewhere else?"
Sophia's eyes narrowed.
What the hell had happened to Emma since yesterday?
It was like she was a totally different person.
Wait.
She shot a suspicious glare at Hebert.
"Wait, seriously?" Emma exclaimed, but Sophia ignored her.
"What the fuck did you do?" she demanded from Hebert.
Said girl, to Sophia's surprise, seemed to have grown something of a spine, as she didn't look away. "I don't know. Why aren't you a little more precise? I've had some very busy days, Sophia."
"Did. You. Master. Emma?" Sophia growled out. She found it hard to believe a wimp like Hebert could even trigger, but that would leave her without an explanation for what had happened to Emma.
Hebert blinked. "Oh, wow. I can't say I expected to be accused of mind controlling people today. Where did you even get that idea from?"
"I don't know," Sophia said acidly. "Perhaps because Emma is acting completely different from normal?"
"I'm sitting right here, you know," Emma said, sounding annoyed at the situation. Which was understandable, if she was Mastered.
"Completely different from normal?" Hebert asked. She theatrically raised her hand to tap her chin as if she were thinking. "Hmm, where have I seen that before? Oh, right! I know! When I went to summer camp for a few weeks, and then when I came back, my friend had made a new friend and didn't want anything to do with me anymore!"
Sophia scoffed. "Are you fucking serious? She moved on from you, Hebert."
"Are you sure you didn't just forget to renew whatever Master effect you put on her?" Hebert taunted.
Sophia lunged forward to grab her by the collar and get started on a well-deserved beating slash interrogation.
"Stop!" Emma exclaimed.
"Give me one fucking reason to," Sophia growled.
"Because if I talk to Blackwell, you're in trouble," Emma responded, her voice surprisingly even.
Fuck. She would do that, wouldn't she? And she was right. Blackwell wouldn't listen to Hebert, but she would listen to Emma.
Unless maybe Sophia voiced her suspicions regarding the Mastering?
"How about this," Hebert spoke up. "If you really believe I did Master Emma, there's a simple solution, isn't there? We just go to the PRT. We'll both share our own story, start to finish, everything that happened since I got back from summer camp. I tell them about how Emma suddenly didn't want anything to do with me anymore, all the crap you pulled on me over the past year and a half, and so on, including that you put me in the hospital two days ago. You tell them... I don't know, whatever fantasy you live in." Her smile seemed to be all teeth. "Deal, or do you withdraw your accusation?"
Fuck.
Sophia was well aware that her behavior towards Hebert was not acceptable by squeamish PRT standards. The only reason she wasn't in a lot more trouble already was because both Blackwell and Sophia's handler didn't want the hassle. If Hebert, however accidentally, bypassed them and talked straight to the PRT, in particular in an investigation as thorough as any claims of Mastering... Sophia would go to juvie, no doubt about that, while Hebert would likely get the same offer of joining the Wards on probation that Sophia had gotten, and that was assuming she was a Master and there was nothing else at play here, which Sophia couldn't be certain of.
"Fine," Sophia bit out. "I've said nothing. But I'm warning you, Hebert. Don't pull anything funny or I will come for you."
"Yeah, yeah, sure. If you don't mind, I was talking to Emma."
"Fuck you," Sophia said by way of parting words before turning and stalking away.
"Well, that was something," Madison said, pulling up a chair and sitting down at our table. Right, I had made that promise. She looked at me and Emma in turn. "Uh, how much did you tell Emma?"
"Emma knows everything you know, and quite a bit more," I said.
"Can I uh, can I ask what you talked about yesterday?"
I motioned for Emma to take the lead.
"Did Taylor tell you about her Thinker power?" she asked.
"No, she didn't," Madison said, looking slightly affronted as she turned to me.
I shrugged. "Long story short, it helps me figure out how to get people on 'my side', so to speak. Obviously, I used it to talk to you."
Madison frowned. "Yeah, that's kinda obvious now that I think about it. Not that knowing it makes me change my mind. So... you used that with Emma as well? But what about Sophia? You didn't sound like you were trying to change her opinion of you just now..."
"No comment on Sophia," I said. No need to share all of my plans, in particular considering Madison probably held Sophia in high regard as well, with her being a cape and all. "I'll let Emma tell you as much or little as she wants to."
"Taylor saw some things about me that I'd pushed down," Emma said quietly. "Things I'd tried to ignore. She just... pierced through all the lies, popping them like balloons. And that made me realize that Taylor was, and still is, a better friend than anyone could hope for, and much better than I deserve."
"That sounds... tough," Madison said. She actually sounded genuinely concerned for Emma, which wasn't something I'd really expected. Then again, I didn't exactly have a well-rounded image of Madison and Sophia.
Emma laughed bitterly. "You could say that. Don't tell anyone else – and definitely not Sophia – but... when Taylor was done with everything; when she was about to leave, actually... I triggered."
Madison gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "You too? That's... wow. I'm sharing classes with... uh..."
She trailed off, as if she'd been about to run her mouth.
"I know about Sophia," I offered.
"Oh. Well, what I wanted to say, I'm apparently sharing classes with three capes then." She genuinely looked a little star-struck.
"Four, actually," I said, turning to Emma. "Did you spot Rune yet?"
"Wait, what?" Madison hissed. "Rune? Here? Are you certain?"
Emma scanned the crowds.
"I'm certain, yes," I told Madison. "Not that I'm going to go and reveal people's civilian identities, of course. I'm not stupid."
"Found her," Emma said. "I'm not sure I'd have realized she was Rune if you hadn't told me to look for her though."
"Wait a second. Back up here. How the hell are you both able to spot capes in their civilian identities? That's like, super rare! And a danger to the Unwritten Rules if people ever learn of it."
"For me, it's simple," I said. It felt a little strange to reveal so much to Madison, but it really did seem like it was working. "I can recognize parahumans on sight. With some wiki reading, I memorized all of Brockton Bay's publically known capes, and that means it's just a process of elimination."
"It's a bit harder for me," Emma said. "My power helps me see what people think of each other and stuff like that, if they're in the same room. Also what they think of groups of people, but it's all in an abstract manner. More like attitudes than direct thoughts, if you get the idea. But anyway, I just looked through the groups of Empire sympathizers until I found the oddity."
"What oddity?" Madison asked.
Emma hesitated.
"Well, I guess it's too subtle to see anyway, I doubt I'd have been able to see it before I got my powers. Put simply, the leader of one of the groups takes cues from a girl that otherwise looks and acts like a hanger-on."
"I just know I'll be looking for her everywhere, now," Madison said.
"It's not like she's going to suddenly attack minorities here at school. Well, outside of normal Empire sympathizer behavior." I paused. "Jesus, this school is fucked up. Like, even when ignoring the part where every single fucking teacher was willing to look the other way because Sophia is a track star and Ward and Alan is a lawyer."
Madison momentarily looked confused, but Emma's "I'm sorry" cued her in on what I was referring to.
"It's alright, Emma," I said, reassuring her. "Let's look towards the future."
"Is it really that easy for you?" Madison asked. "Didn't you say you were in the hospital after the... after last Monday?"
"With Emma, yes," I responded. "She's been my friend for years and I saw yesterday that she's genuine. With you... I'm willing to give you a chance because I know you're not going to bully me now that you know I'm a cape, and I find I really don't care about revenge. Which might also be my power nudging me, to be honest. But I'm warning you. Try to pull shit on someone else like you've been doing to me, and I will find a way to make you regret it."
"Right," Madison said, nodding fervently. "Got it." She hesitated. "I guess you told Emma something similar?"
"Nah, Emma wouldn't hurt a fly right now. If anything, I think I might have to push her to actually use her powers."
Emma grimaced. "Yeah, I'm not exactly eager to dive into that."
"Why not?" Madison asked.
"Do you really need to ask?" Emma responded with some frustration. "Because I used my social skills to make my best friend's life hell, and I got rewarded with an even better ability to manipulate other people into doing what I want."
"Oh, right," Madison said. "So can I ask what you're going to do? As capes, I mean."
"Sure," I responded. "Next step: recruit Rune."
The look on Madison's face was priceless.
AN: In between this chapter and the currently-unfinished chapter 1.5, I will be posting Emma's Confession, a canon Sidestory featuring Emma (and Taylor) telling Alan and Zoe about everything that's been happening. Due to a combination of reasons, I felt like it doesn't fit in the main plot, and reading it won't be mandatory. Once it's live, I will add a link to this post, and once I upload 1.5 I will also add a link to the start of that chapter. (edit: or just scroll down, it's literally two messages from here)
EDIT: After reader feedback, aforementioned scene has been made part of the main threadmarks, so none of that is needed anymore.
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Bonus: Emma's Confession
AN: Took a little longer than intended. If I don't write a lot, I also tend to not get around to uploading anything, and the busy times around the holidays plus getting a cold halfway through wasn't exactly conducive to writing. On the flip side, that also means you're not really missing out on anything new, because I haven't written anything new; I'm still working on chapter 1.5. To get back into writing I've also been writing on a oneshot a bit, which I currently expect (no promises!) will be my next upload, whenever that may be, so keep an eye on my oneshots thread if you're not doing so yet.
Now, onto this scene and why it's not part of the main story despite being canon: It's a variety of reasons. First, while Emma deserves quite a bit of screen time as a main character, I felt like it's starting to border on too much, in particular when combined with my other points. Because my second reason is that the pacing is already starting off a little slow, and this scene doesn't do much beyond adding more words until we get some action. Third, it's more of the same thing we've already been seeing - Emma's turnaround and her having to come to terms with it. Across 1.2-1.4, we've had two full chapters dedicated to her and Taylor talking about everything. And fourth, this scene doesn't actually advance the plot. Alan and Zoe are going to be very minor characters, and nothing that's said here hasn't already been covered elsewhere. The only reason I wrote it is because telling Emma's parents is something that can't be left unaddressed.
AN 07/02/2023: After reader feedback, I've changed this scene to be a bonus scene, but part of the main story. I'm leaving above reasoning up for completeness' sake.
After school, we'd gone to the mall so Emma could help me pick a phone, as she knew much more about smartphones than I did. She also insisted on paying for it, and while I tried to object, I also realized that it would do Emma good to do something for me. Besides which, money was much tighter for me and Dad than it was for her and her family.
Now, we were standing in front of the Barnes' home. Alan would be home already – I'd called Aunt Zoe yesterday evening to discuss our plans for the day, as we didn't want to have to tell the story twice.
I glanced to the side.
Emma seriously looked like she wanted to turn and run.
"Come on," I said, grabbing her hand. "They'll have to hear it some time."
Emma sighed. "I know. It's just…" She took a deep breath. Then another one. "Alright," she said. "Alright, time to stop running."
As if her boots were unimaginably heavy, she put one foot forward and slowly started walking. I stayed at her side until we reached the door, and Emma fumbled with her key.
I hadn't been here for a year and a half, but little had changed. As we entered, I heard Emma's parents speak up, no doubt having heard our arrival. After we took off our coats, Emma dawdled again, so I gently tugged her forward to reach the living room in a reasonable timeframe.
Uncle Alan and Aunt Zoe both smiled as they saw me.
"Taylor!" Aunt Zoe said. "I'm so glad to see you again!"
"So am I," I said. Now that Emma was in view of her parents, she seemed to have calmed down a bit – or at least she'd acknowledged she wasn't going to be able to run – and we sat down next to each other on the couch. Uncle Alan and Aunt Zoe had each taken a chair.
"Are you okay, Emma?" Aunt Zoe asked in a more serious tone, having realized how different the redhead looked from usual.
She smiled weakly. "I will be."
"That's what you said on the phone too, yesterday," Aunt Zoe said. "In fact, you were both rather secretive. What's going on?"
I glanced at Emma. Emma glanced at me.
"I don't think I'm the one who should answer that question," I pointed out.
"No," Emma admitted. "It's just… I… Aarrgh!" She rubbed her face with both hands. "I just… I don't even know where to start!"
"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Aunt Zoe gently suggested.
Emma helplessly looked at me.
"I remember in the phone call yesterday that you'd told your parents that I'd broken off contact with you?" I suggested.
"Yeah," Emma said. "I—I guess that's a good place to start."
"I was wondering about that," Aunt Zoe said. "On the phone you said you were actually the one who broke it off? And what changed?"
Uncle Alan leaned forward. "You didn't tell me about this," he said to his wife.
"I figured we'd talk about it today," she explained.
"Yeah, I did," Emma said. "And it was stupid. It was all my fault."
"What is your fault?" Alan asked, concerned.
"After the… the alley, when talking to Sophia, I got this idea that I had to be strong," Emma said, slowly and haltingly explaining. "And—and I had decided that Taylor didn't fit with that because of how long she needed to get over Aunt Annette's death. So I—I started pushing her away."
Both her parents looked very worried now.
However, I felt like I should interfere. What Emma was saying wasn't wrong, but… "Was that the real reason?" I asked gently.
Emma seemed to freeze up for a bit, but then she realized what I was referring to. "N-no," she said, still tripping over her words a bit. "I didn't realize it at the time, but… I think deep inside I knew even then that… well, I wasn't dealing with it at all. I was just hiding everything that was going on in my head. And if I look back, I think I… I was caught in my own head, if that makes sense?"
"It does to me," I said, encouraging her.
"And, well… I think that somewhere, I knew Taylor could help me, in a way no one else could. But I just… I couldn't ask for help, because that would be weak, and I didn't want that. So instead I… I…"
She trailed off completely and looked to me, tears forming in her eyes.
I grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, nonverbally encouraging her to say it.
She shook her head. I can't do it, the motion said. I can't say the word.
"Emma… started bullying me," I said, apprehensive for the reaction of her parents.
The initial reaction was two distinct intakes of breath. Then a few seconds of silence.
"Is that true?" Uncle Alan asked sharply.
Emma nodded mutely.
"For… wait," Aunt Zoe paused as she clearly went over the timeline in her head. "For a year and a half? Your best friend?"
"I'm sorry!" Emma squeaked out, and I was unsure whether she was apologizing to her parents or, once more, to me. She closed in on herself, like a turtle retreating into it's shell, only she had nothing but her arms and legs to hide behind.
I put my arm around her and pulled her into my chest for comfort – and as a signal to her parents that things had changed.
"But… why?" Aunt Zoe asked, barely keeping her calm. Uncle Alan looked angry, though he was holding back for now. I gave it a fifty-fifty chance that he was telling himself to hear us out before he could start shouting at Emma.
I took over, as Emma seemed in no condition to talk. "I think… well, keep in mind that this would be Emma's subconscious. I don't think she realized any of this until yesterday. But I think that she was hoping, beneath all the posturing, that I'd push back. That I'd stand up to her and force her to ask herself the questions she was avoiding.
"We'd—we'd probably have a fight, maybe a bad one, but in the end she'd be unable to keep lying to herself."
"And… that's what happened yesterday?" Aunt Zoe asked apprehensively. "But why now?"
"It's… not really what happened," I said. "Honestly, I thought I'd given up on being friends with Emma again more than a year ago. I think, back then, when the bullying just started… well, the teachers and principal refused to do anything about it and even accused me of lying, which is definitely a particular brand of fucked up, but that aside, I never had many friends, and I didn't have any at Winslow. I was still kind of processing Mom's death, though I was doing better than Dad, and the thought of maybe losing Emma for good if I called her out on what she was doing… it scared me. Even though I didn't have much left to lose."
"But what happened yesterday, then?" Uncle Alan asked. It seemed like he'd gotten his emotions under control. "Because something has obviously changed."
"I got powers," I said simply, intending to continue.
Uncle Alan frowned, then made the connection. "WHAT?" he thundered as he shot up from his chair. Emma flinched in my arms.
He looked between the two of us, somehow calming slightly. "Did… did Emma do that?" The anger was still there, but it was tinged with… fear, or embarrassment, perhaps? As if he was wondering whether he'd judged too quickly, yet still not liking the way the pieces seemed to fit together at all.
"I did," Emma admitted in a quiet voice, muffled further by my clothes.
Somehow, Uncle Alan did not start a tirade. I suspected it was solely the fact that I was currently comforting Emma that kept him.
"One of my powers lets me learn things about people," I said. "Without going into too much detail, one thing it showed me was how much of a mess Emma was on the inside, and all those things we just talked about, that she'd hidden even from herself. I confronted her about it."
"And what happened?"
"It was one of the hardest things I've ever done," I admitted. "Almost harder than school when… almost harder than school on a bad day. When I was talking to Dad last Monday, I really realized that I still wanted to be friends with Emma again. And then when my power showed me… showed me what was going on within Emma… I think that's the most hope I've felt in a very long time. Since before Mom died."
I rested my chin on Emma's head, now desperate for the physical contact myself. "I thought… for a bit, I thought it wasn't going to work. That I hadn't managed to reach her. I was already…" I swallowed. "I was already walking away, leaving the classroom, when she called out to me.
"Then, we… well, yesterday Emma was doing even worse than now. I got the administration to let us go home, and we talked. For the entire afternoon. About everything that had happened, and everything we'd missed over the past year and a half."
"But… she made you trigger," Uncle Alan said. "Carol told me about that once, Carol Dallon, of New Wave. I thought trigger events were supposed to be practically unforgivable. That they were so bad, that you had to feel so terrible to even go through them, that something would just break in you."
"It's what I told Emma yesterday," I said. "With any normal friend, I don't know if I'd have bothered. But Emma is more than that to me; she's like a sister. You can't abandon your sister, no matter what she did to you."
"That's enough to see past whatever Emma did to you? Which we will be having words about, by the way," he added as a threat.
I couldn't help but snort. "Considering I made Emma trigger right back, I'd say we're even."
Uncle Alan seemed genuinely speechless at that.
Emma finally raised herself up again, though she moved to sit on my lap for support, and I carefully kept my arms around her waist.
"That was mostly my own fault," she said hoarsely. "It was like Taylor said. She forced me to look at myself. To be honest with myself. And I… I'd fucked it up. I'd fucked everything up. My whole life, my best friend's life, our friendship, everything. When she was walking away, I… I couldn't keep up the lie anymore, and it was like everything came crashing down at once.
"And then…" she started smiling, though it was weak and uncertain. "And then Taylor was there the moment I admitted I needed her. She's the best friend I could ever hope for, and far more than I deserve."
Uncle Alan fell back into his chair with rather more force than needed. "I don't know where to even start."
"Neither do I," I admitted. "I vote we continue the way Emma and I have been doing since yesterday. We just keep going and talk about whatever comes up. Can I stay for dinner? Dad knows that's likely, I'll just have to give him a brief call when he's home to confirm."
"That might be a good idea," Aunt Zoe agreed.
Today was going to be another long and exhausting day – though that was less bothersome as well now that I no longer needed sleep, or at least it had seemed that way yesterday – but having Emma back by my side made it all worth it.
Now, onto this scene and why it's not part of the main story despite being canon: It's a variety of reasons. First, while Emma deserves quite a bit of screen time as a main character, I felt like it's starting to border on too much, in particular when combined with my other points. Because my second reason is that the pacing is already starting off a little slow, and this scene doesn't do much beyond adding more words until we get some action. Third, it's more of the same thing we've already been seeing - Emma's turnaround and her having to come to terms with it. Across 1.2-1.4, we've had two full chapters dedicated to her and Taylor talking about everything. And fourth, this scene doesn't actually advance the plot. Alan and Zoe are going to be very minor characters, and nothing that's said here hasn't already been covered elsewhere. The only reason I wrote it is because telling Emma's parents is something that can't be left unaddressed.
AN 07/02/2023: After reader feedback, I've changed this scene to be a bonus scene, but part of the main story. I'm leaving above reasoning up for completeness' sake.
After school, we'd gone to the mall so Emma could help me pick a phone, as she knew much more about smartphones than I did. She also insisted on paying for it, and while I tried to object, I also realized that it would do Emma good to do something for me. Besides which, money was much tighter for me and Dad than it was for her and her family.
Now, we were standing in front of the Barnes' home. Alan would be home already – I'd called Aunt Zoe yesterday evening to discuss our plans for the day, as we didn't want to have to tell the story twice.
I glanced to the side.
Emma seriously looked like she wanted to turn and run.
"Come on," I said, grabbing her hand. "They'll have to hear it some time."
Emma sighed. "I know. It's just…" She took a deep breath. Then another one. "Alright," she said. "Alright, time to stop running."
As if her boots were unimaginably heavy, she put one foot forward and slowly started walking. I stayed at her side until we reached the door, and Emma fumbled with her key.
I hadn't been here for a year and a half, but little had changed. As we entered, I heard Emma's parents speak up, no doubt having heard our arrival. After we took off our coats, Emma dawdled again, so I gently tugged her forward to reach the living room in a reasonable timeframe.
Uncle Alan and Aunt Zoe both smiled as they saw me.
"Taylor!" Aunt Zoe said. "I'm so glad to see you again!"
"So am I," I said. Now that Emma was in view of her parents, she seemed to have calmed down a bit – or at least she'd acknowledged she wasn't going to be able to run – and we sat down next to each other on the couch. Uncle Alan and Aunt Zoe had each taken a chair.
"Are you okay, Emma?" Aunt Zoe asked in a more serious tone, having realized how different the redhead looked from usual.
She smiled weakly. "I will be."
"That's what you said on the phone too, yesterday," Aunt Zoe said. "In fact, you were both rather secretive. What's going on?"
I glanced at Emma. Emma glanced at me.
"I don't think I'm the one who should answer that question," I pointed out.
"No," Emma admitted. "It's just… I… Aarrgh!" She rubbed her face with both hands. "I just… I don't even know where to start!"
"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Aunt Zoe gently suggested.
Emma helplessly looked at me.
"I remember in the phone call yesterday that you'd told your parents that I'd broken off contact with you?" I suggested.
"Yeah," Emma said. "I—I guess that's a good place to start."
"I was wondering about that," Aunt Zoe said. "On the phone you said you were actually the one who broke it off? And what changed?"
Uncle Alan leaned forward. "You didn't tell me about this," he said to his wife.
"I figured we'd talk about it today," she explained.
"Yeah, I did," Emma said. "And it was stupid. It was all my fault."
"What is your fault?" Alan asked, concerned.
"After the… the alley, when talking to Sophia, I got this idea that I had to be strong," Emma said, slowly and haltingly explaining. "And—and I had decided that Taylor didn't fit with that because of how long she needed to get over Aunt Annette's death. So I—I started pushing her away."
Both her parents looked very worried now.
However, I felt like I should interfere. What Emma was saying wasn't wrong, but… "Was that the real reason?" I asked gently.
Emma seemed to freeze up for a bit, but then she realized what I was referring to. "N-no," she said, still tripping over her words a bit. "I didn't realize it at the time, but… I think deep inside I knew even then that… well, I wasn't dealing with it at all. I was just hiding everything that was going on in my head. And if I look back, I think I… I was caught in my own head, if that makes sense?"
"It does to me," I said, encouraging her.
"And, well… I think that somewhere, I knew Taylor could help me, in a way no one else could. But I just… I couldn't ask for help, because that would be weak, and I didn't want that. So instead I… I…"
She trailed off completely and looked to me, tears forming in her eyes.
I grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, nonverbally encouraging her to say it.
She shook her head. I can't do it, the motion said. I can't say the word.
"Emma… started bullying me," I said, apprehensive for the reaction of her parents.
The initial reaction was two distinct intakes of breath. Then a few seconds of silence.
"Is that true?" Uncle Alan asked sharply.
Emma nodded mutely.
"For… wait," Aunt Zoe paused as she clearly went over the timeline in her head. "For a year and a half? Your best friend?"
"I'm sorry!" Emma squeaked out, and I was unsure whether she was apologizing to her parents or, once more, to me. She closed in on herself, like a turtle retreating into it's shell, only she had nothing but her arms and legs to hide behind.
I put my arm around her and pulled her into my chest for comfort – and as a signal to her parents that things had changed.
"But… why?" Aunt Zoe asked, barely keeping her calm. Uncle Alan looked angry, though he was holding back for now. I gave it a fifty-fifty chance that he was telling himself to hear us out before he could start shouting at Emma.
I took over, as Emma seemed in no condition to talk. "I think… well, keep in mind that this would be Emma's subconscious. I don't think she realized any of this until yesterday. But I think that she was hoping, beneath all the posturing, that I'd push back. That I'd stand up to her and force her to ask herself the questions she was avoiding.
"We'd—we'd probably have a fight, maybe a bad one, but in the end she'd be unable to keep lying to herself."
"And… that's what happened yesterday?" Aunt Zoe asked apprehensively. "But why now?"
"It's… not really what happened," I said. "Honestly, I thought I'd given up on being friends with Emma again more than a year ago. I think, back then, when the bullying just started… well, the teachers and principal refused to do anything about it and even accused me of lying, which is definitely a particular brand of fucked up, but that aside, I never had many friends, and I didn't have any at Winslow. I was still kind of processing Mom's death, though I was doing better than Dad, and the thought of maybe losing Emma for good if I called her out on what she was doing… it scared me. Even though I didn't have much left to lose."
"But what happened yesterday, then?" Uncle Alan asked. It seemed like he'd gotten his emotions under control. "Because something has obviously changed."
"I got powers," I said simply, intending to continue.
Uncle Alan frowned, then made the connection. "WHAT?" he thundered as he shot up from his chair. Emma flinched in my arms.
He looked between the two of us, somehow calming slightly. "Did… did Emma do that?" The anger was still there, but it was tinged with… fear, or embarrassment, perhaps? As if he was wondering whether he'd judged too quickly, yet still not liking the way the pieces seemed to fit together at all.
"I did," Emma admitted in a quiet voice, muffled further by my clothes.
Somehow, Uncle Alan did not start a tirade. I suspected it was solely the fact that I was currently comforting Emma that kept him.
"One of my powers lets me learn things about people," I said. "Without going into too much detail, one thing it showed me was how much of a mess Emma was on the inside, and all those things we just talked about, that she'd hidden even from herself. I confronted her about it."
"And what happened?"
"It was one of the hardest things I've ever done," I admitted. "Almost harder than school when… almost harder than school on a bad day. When I was talking to Dad last Monday, I really realized that I still wanted to be friends with Emma again. And then when my power showed me… showed me what was going on within Emma… I think that's the most hope I've felt in a very long time. Since before Mom died."
I rested my chin on Emma's head, now desperate for the physical contact myself. "I thought… for a bit, I thought it wasn't going to work. That I hadn't managed to reach her. I was already…" I swallowed. "I was already walking away, leaving the classroom, when she called out to me.
"Then, we… well, yesterday Emma was doing even worse than now. I got the administration to let us go home, and we talked. For the entire afternoon. About everything that had happened, and everything we'd missed over the past year and a half."
"But… she made you trigger," Uncle Alan said. "Carol told me about that once, Carol Dallon, of New Wave. I thought trigger events were supposed to be practically unforgivable. That they were so bad, that you had to feel so terrible to even go through them, that something would just break in you."
"It's what I told Emma yesterday," I said. "With any normal friend, I don't know if I'd have bothered. But Emma is more than that to me; she's like a sister. You can't abandon your sister, no matter what she did to you."
"That's enough to see past whatever Emma did to you? Which we will be having words about, by the way," he added as a threat.
I couldn't help but snort. "Considering I made Emma trigger right back, I'd say we're even."
Uncle Alan seemed genuinely speechless at that.
Emma finally raised herself up again, though she moved to sit on my lap for support, and I carefully kept my arms around her waist.
"That was mostly my own fault," she said hoarsely. "It was like Taylor said. She forced me to look at myself. To be honest with myself. And I… I'd fucked it up. I'd fucked everything up. My whole life, my best friend's life, our friendship, everything. When she was walking away, I… I couldn't keep up the lie anymore, and it was like everything came crashing down at once.
"And then…" she started smiling, though it was weak and uncertain. "And then Taylor was there the moment I admitted I needed her. She's the best friend I could ever hope for, and far more than I deserve."
Uncle Alan fell back into his chair with rather more force than needed. "I don't know where to even start."
"Neither do I," I admitted. "I vote we continue the way Emma and I have been doing since yesterday. We just keep going and talk about whatever comes up. Can I stay for dinner? Dad knows that's likely, I'll just have to give him a brief call when he's home to confirm."
"That might be a good idea," Aunt Zoe agreed.
Today was going to be another long and exhausting day – though that was less bothersome as well now that I no longer needed sleep, or at least it had seemed that way yesterday – but having Emma back by my side made it all worth it.
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1.5 Awakening
AN: And that's why I put that disclaimer at the start of this fic. I'm expecting uploads to get more regular, but no hard promises. Also, y'all got lucky by two weeks, as it turns out I didn't have backlog for the fic I thought I had backlog for, which I was originally planning on updating first. Once every two weeks is my upload schedule for the moment, but I hope to improve that sometime in the next few months. As I'm sharing my time between works it'll probably still be a month or two until the next update for this fic, though. On the plus side, it's the one I'm currently prioritizing.
Also, I rewrote the hospital/opening scene. It still develops pretty much the same, but characterization hopefully feels better, and we switch back to Amy's PoV at some point during the conversation to show her motivation for accepting Taylor's suggestion to meet up. The old version of the scene will be archived on SpaceBattles as an Apocrypha threadmark, for those who want to compare.
Recruiting Rune was going to take some effort.
Certainly, I wouldn't be able to talk her around in one go. But at the very least there were some openings, some starting points. Most notably, it seemed part of her motivation for joining the Empire in the first place had been to get back at her overly controlling parents, who had distanced themselves from the Empire, though they did still hold the same bigoted beliefs.
Another component, which I figured might well be vital, was that she didn't fully believe in the Empire propaganda, though she did believe in it enough to consider Emma a 'race traitor' for being friends with Sophia. But that minor bit of uncertainty was a starting point that I could use with my power.
There was also something else I'd noticed. At one point, Emma and I had briefly considered coming up with a Sophia-related sob story; either me seeking protection from the Empire, or her having a falling-out with Sophia. We'd discarded the idea immediately as it made our very thoughts feel dirty, but when my power indicated that faking Empire sympathies would be a relatively easy way to get into Rune's good graces, I realized that it hadn't suggested that angle until we brought it up. My gut feeling was that my power wouldn't give me suggestions I wasn't willing to follow up on.
There was another angle that I was willing to pursue, though, but it was a matter of waiting for the right opportunity.
Right then, my phone buzzed, shaking me out of my thoughts. I quickly checked the message to find that Amy Dallon had confirmed the meetup spot and time, and put it away again. My thoughts drifted back to the Wednesday afternoon when we'd bought the phone and Emma had come clean to her parents. In the end, we'd agreed that I would visit at least once a week to allow them to keep tabs on what Emma was doing outside of their purview, which I didn't particularly mind as we had a lot of sleepovers to catch up on – even if I now spent my nights browsing PHO, drawing, writing or whatever solitary activity I felt like doing instead of sleeping.
"Alright, open up," Emma said, jostling me out of my thoughts once more. "What are you thinking about?"
I shrugged half-heartedly. The two of us were alone at our table in the cafeteria, and in particular with Emma's power there was no way anyone could listen in on us unnoticed, so we could talk freely. "Just… the past week, you know. It's been quite something. And I was thinking about Tammi." That was Rune's civilian name, Emma had told me, and we used it instead of 'Rune' for the sake of added safety.
"My power tells me that you're putting more value on working with her than on working with Sophia," Emma observed. "Which might not be so surprising, if it weren't for the part where you don't actually dislike Sophia as much as I might've expected."
I thought about that.
"You might be right. Do you think there's something about my power that influences it?"
"Maybe," Emma said slowly. "I also get the feeling you're thinking about those two more than anyone else here, so there's probably something related to them being parahumans in the first place."
"Another one for the list of power-related things we don't understand," I said. That list was growing longer and longer, with precious few answers for my liking. The trigger event in the hospital, my strange power set – some nightly research seemed to contradict my previous theory that I might be a grab-bag cape – my intuitive understanding of my own powers, this, and…
"Speaking of," I said, "it still bothers me that Sophia's power pushes her to fighting and violence. It just doesn't feel right. Same with Tammi, to a degree, but at least her power isn't actively geared to avoiding fights. And I'd have to see her again to make sure, but I feel like there was something off when I was talking to Panacea as well, and now that I've felt a few other powers, I suspect it might be the same thing."
"And you said our powers don't do that?" Emma asked.
"No," I replied. "My power just wants me to recruit people, which can cause friction but can also reduce it, and your power just wants you to have a lot of social contact with a lot of people, in particular in a group setting like here at school, and you'd do that anyway so it's just… it sounds a bit weird, but I feel like it's just sitting back and relaxing while watching, you know."
"You keep talking about powers like they're people," Emma said, frowning slightly. "Why is that?"
"I'm not sure myself," I admitted. "It just feels… right, I suppose? I never really thought about where powers came from before this, but I guess they can't just pop up out of nowhere, can they?"
"I suppose—no, wait, back to Tammi."
"What?" I asked.
"Pretty sure she's about to make a move. Three girls, her included, so it doesn't get better than this."
I glanced to the side, where Tammi was still sitting with six other people – including three guys – at another table, chatting just like they had been for the entire lunch break. Emma hadn't even looked their way.
Powers were bullshit.
We went through the plan one more time while I did my very best to not glance in Tammi's direction – even if I did, there was no way I'd be able to beat Emma's power-enhanced social awareness.
It took five minutes before Emma interrupted me mid-sentence. She stood up and I followed her lead as we made our way through the cafeteria. Tammi and two other girls stood up several seconds after us, and they also exchanged a few more words with the others from their group before actually leaving. And in a different direction, at that.
Emma led me through a few corridors, and a minute later, we turned a corner to find Tammi and the Empire sympathizers intimidating a black girl from the year below ours. Here, I took the lead from Emma. The news that we'd reconciled had made it's way through the school, and in particular our year, quite quickly thanks to Emma's popularity, which meant that most people knew about it even if they found it surprising. However, Emma was still the girl that was friends with a black girl, while I was still the girl that got bullied by that black girl. And even though we weren't going to use that in our recruitment attempt, it still meant Tammi would be more receptive to my arguments than to Emma's arguments, even if they were the exact same.
Plus, there was the part where my power assisted me to a degree in conversations like this, while Emma would have to rely on her own social skills. Between the two, my power was superior.
"What are you doing?" I demanded. Was my tone a bit rude? Possibly. But then, I had little patience for bullying, and even less for bigotry.
Tammi – the leader of the trio of blondes according to what Emma had told me while we were preparing – turned to me.
"Making sure this bitch doesn't get any ideas from Hess' behavior, of course," she snappishly responded. "I'd think you of all people would get that. Or did that race traitor over there mess with your brain?"
Technically, yes, as she made me trigger.
"The only one here who's acting like they've been inspired by Hess is you," I pointed out.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"You're three-on-one harassing a girl who hasn't done anything just because she 'shouldn't get any ideas'. I don't know about you, but that sounds very familiar to me indeed."
"We're protecting people like you," Tammi argued.
I scoffed. "Fat load of protecting you did for me the last year and a half. If you only do it when it's to your advantage, it's not protection, it's opportunism. I can't remember any of you Empire wannabes ever giving a crap about how Sophia treated me, heck, you'd think I'd at least have had to deal with a recruitment attempt or two, but not even that. No, you're just ignoring her and going after girls who wouldn't hurt a fly because that way you can be sure they aren't going to fight back.
"Sophia might be a bitch, but at least she'd punch a Nazi if she saw them bullying someone. I can't say the same thing the other way around."
The black girl tried to sneak out.
"Hey, where are you going?" one of Tammi's goons called out.
"How about you let her leave?" I asked, taking a step towards the goon.
She turned to me with a snarl on her face. "I don't need to take shit from you, locker girl."
I sucked in a breath, barely avoiding a spiral of panic.
"I'd be more careful if I were you, Jennifer," Emma said before I'd even found my balance, and I felt another spike of panic at the familiar venom in her tone before realizing it wasn't aimed at me. "Or else everyone might learn who you've been crushing on. And how they responded when you confessed. And that's before we get into your brother's… proclivities. I sure hope you don't have those tendencies, or you might get yourself into trouble with the law. Then again, I suppose you're already associating with the right people to get into a life of crime anyway? It's just, there's still a difference between muggings and that."
The girl – Jennifer – seemed torn between retaliating or fleeing for a few seconds, but managed to get herself under enough control to turn to Tammi first.
"Let's go. This shit isn't worth it."
She didn't wait for an answer, and Tammi was visibly displeased at that. She turned towards me for one last remark about sticking my nose in other people's business, then followed Jennifer, her other goon right behind her.
Their victim looked at me and Emma for a second, then squeaked out a thanks before slipping away, but I was already focusing entirely on my friend.
Emma had seemed composed while talking to Jennifer, but now she was shaking visibly, and as I stepped up to her, she collapsed into my arms and started crying.
I hugged her close to me and made a few calming noises. "Are you okay, Emma?" I asked, concerned.
"N-no," she responded. "It's just so easy. I… I thought I wasn't going to do that anymore, and one stupid insult like that and I'm flying right off and tearing her down!"
I felt conflicted. I could see why Emma was upset, yet I also thought this was an entirely different situation from how she'd treated me.
"But you did it for someone else, this time," I pointed out.
"It was still far too easy," Emma objected.
"And she's an Empire wannabe."
"I don't want to be like that anymore," Emma said. "It reminds me of how I was to you. It's – it's my fault you were even in there in the first place. And it made you trigger, no one should – no one should ever be reminded of that."
"Shhh, I'm fine," I said. Strangely, I actually felt like being reminded of my trigger affected me less than I'd have expected, although it was still something I tried to avoid thinking about if at all possible – less than expected wasn't a high bar to clear.
"And Emma?"
"Hm?"
"I'll be there, and I'll tell you if you're being a bitch. Promise."
"I was a bitch."
"No, you were defending me against someone who glorifies a life of crime and believes black people are inferior," I objected.
Emma made a noise that I could identify as reluctant agreement thanks to the many years we'd been friends. Some things hadn't changed just because there'd been a rift.
"I'll keep an eye on you, Emma," I said again. "I know you even better now than I did in the past, and I won't let you slide back, because I know just how much you'd hate yourself."
"Thanks," she murmured.
I squeezed the hug before letting go. "We should get ready for class."
She nodded, drying her eyes. "Yeah." She hesitated. "Did it work? With Tammi? Or did I screw that up too?"
"It's going to be… a process," I said. And not one I was looking forward to. "But I think this was an acceptable starting point. I won't say 'good', but at least I don't think we made it worse, and we did establish contact, which is the most important thing right now. It was never going to be a single-conversation thing, I think."
"I guess not."
I gave her a smile. "And now it's time to get our head back into the education game."
She snorted. "I wish it was a game. That'd imply it was fun."
"Learning is fun," I argued playfully.
Friday night marked our first normal sleepover since the summer of 2009, as I went with Emma to her place after school and stayed there for the night. It all felt a little surreal, like a memory of times gone by, of a simpler and happier life.
The simplicity would never return, we both knew that much, but at least we agreed that we were both happier than we'd been since the ABB's attack – or even Mom's accident, in my case.
We'd even tried sharing the bed like we'd always done in the past – also the first time I even tried to sleep after realizing I no longer needed it – but we quickly changed our mind. It was one thing that we'd entered puberty, but what made it worse was that we'd both discovered an interest in girls, but were very clear about not having such an interest in one another.
Which also caused a bit of a strange – but funny – moment, as neither of us had known about the other's realizations, leading to us coming out to each other at the same time.
In the end I'd taken the mattress that we'd prepared on the ground just in case, and I'd confirmed that I could, indeed, sleep if I really wanted to. It felt a little strange to do, however, and I couldn't help but think it was a bit of a waste of time even though it gave the sleepover experience a more authentic feel.
We spent the Saturday morning together doing a variety of things, but as lunchtime approached, I said my good-byes to Emma and left to meet Panacea, after which I'd be going straight home.
I entered the café right on time for our meeting, and quickly noticed Panacea sitting at a table near the window in civilian clothes, in part thanks to my power immediately suggesting that I should try to recruit her.
Which was interesting, because it had taken a few minutes for Tammi to stand out among the Winslow crowd, yet here it was immediate. And while it was Emma who had noticed I was more eager to recruit Tammi than Sophia, I didn't need anyone's help to realize the difference when it came to Panacea.
It wasn't actually a stronger impulse than when I'd just woken up in the hospital last week, but I was more familiar with my powers now, and that made the difference quite clear. And speaking of, I also had a much easier time divining what felt off about her power than I did last week, and it was the same thing as with Sophia and Tammi; an inexplicable push that didn't match up with her abilities at all.
I sat down opposite the healer and we exchanged greetings. Before either of us brought up anything else, a waitress approached and took our orders. Once she was gone, Amy – as I should probably think of her, considering she wasn't in costume – was the first to speak up.
"So, that flying cape that was spotted last Tuesday. I thought you told me you had a Thinker power, but the timing seems rather… suspicious to me."
Despite the words, I got the impression that she was mostly confused, probably trying to figure out whether it could possibly be me even though I'd demonstrated my Thinker power in our previous conversation.
"I do have a Thinker power," I confirmed, speaking quietly so that we wouldn't be overheard. "But I also have a Breaker power, and yes, that was me. I hadn't yet worked out the details back when we last talked."
"That's a weird combination," Amy said with a frown. "You've got a Thinker power that's always working, and a separate Breaker power?"
"I don't get it either," I admitted. "I did some research, and my situation doesn't fit with grab-bag or cluster triggers, nor could I find anything else that might give someone such unrelated powers."
"Can I inspect you?" Amy asked.
I held my hand forward and allowed her to touch it.
"Are you using your power right now?"
"Is there something weird?" I asked. I would prefer not telling her about the part of my power that helped me get people – and in particular parahumans – on my side; I wasn't sure whether she'd react well to that.
"Your corona pollentia is showing activity levels consistent with power usage."
"I do get the impression that my power appreciates this meeting," I said carefully.
"Appreciates?" Amy asked, confused. "What do you mean by that?"
"My, uhm…" I trailed off. "You know, the Unwritten Rules don't make this easy to explain. I've been talking to someone who also has powers, and they were also surprised at this, but I often feel like my power is… alive, in a way, I guess? And has goals."
"Weird. I've never felt anything like that."
"I'm thinking it might be part of my ability to understand powers," I said. "The person I was talking to, for example, has a power that wants them to be socially active, because the power provides a better understanding of social situations. My power wants me to interact with capes, although it doesn't care whether they're actually in their cape identity or not."
Amy frowned. "Your power doesn't give a shit about the Unwritten Rules, does it?"
"It doesn't," I admitted. "But I'm keeping anything I might learn strictly to myself; I don't want to piss off the gangs." Well, myself and Emma. And whoever else might be convenient. In reality, I had to admit to myself, I only cared about the Unwritten Rules in that I didn't want to make enemies by breaking them.
"Smart," Amy nodded. "My power is the same. If I touch someone, I know they're a parahuman. I've healed several people that I suspect are villains, but I am not going to cause a stir about that because there's no way that'll end well for me. Right now there's the unspoken agreement that everyone keeps their hands off of me because healers are so rare, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."
"Anyway, there's also a bunch of powers that just seem weird to me." I leaned closer to Amy, lowering my voice further. "For example, I go to school with Shadow Stalker, and her power constantly pushes her to be aggressive or fight people. And all I can think is, why? It's a Stranger power, it would make much more sense for it to push her to spy on people or infiltrate somewhere."
"That is kind of weird," Amy admitted. "I'll be honest, I don't really like her. But you're right that her attitude doesn't really fit with her power well."
"I don't like her either," I said. "That's neither here nor there though. Thing is, your power is also being weird. First of all, it's incredibly bored with healing, which is something I can understand – there's nothing new there, just fixing human bodies to approximately the same state over and over again. But the thing is, while it'd like any kind of experimentation from your end, such as making minor, benevolent changes to plants or insects or something, it really wants you to go a lot further than that. Make entirely new species, preferably ones that can fight, alter people's minds in your favor, things like that."
Amy shuddered. "I don't even want to think about that."
"I get that," I said honestly. "I don't get why it's trying to push you to those things though. As an aside, I'm really glad you have the self-control you do. But it should be just as happy with the more benevolent experiments. You could help solve world hunger or combat climate change by fixing carbon – that's still a thing even if people don't really care anymore now that the Endbringers are a far more destructive and immediate threat to the human race. Instead it seems as if it's geared to make you do things that others will take offense with."
A silence fell as Amy seemed to be thinking something over. After a dozen seconds or so, she spoke up.
"It feels really weird to talk with a Thinker, you know."
"How come?" I asked.
"It's…" she made a random gesture with her hand. "This stuff, somewhere deep inside I knew most of it already, but I've never really talked about it with anyone, and then someone I don't even really know comes by and just… plucks it out."
"I didn't get too personal, did I?" I asked, worried – although my power seemed to think I was still on the right track.
"No, nothing like that," Amy said. "If anything, you've helped me figure out what's really bothering me. And to know that some of the ideas I have are because my power is pushing me in that way… it scares me, but at least that means it's not me, you know."
I nodded. "I guess it would feel scary if you think it's just your own thoughts guiding you there."
"Trust me, it's horrible," she said. "You've already given me a lot to think about, and we haven't even talked about your hospital trigger yet."
"I've tried to do some research," I said, "but I can't find anything that makes sense. Assuming those lights I saw and sounds I heard were from my powers before the second trigger, it's not a normal second trigger, because I have absolutely nothing like that now. I thought I might be a grab-bag cape – I'd heard that term before – but that seems to be a consequence of a group trigger, and that didn't happen for either of my triggers. And you know what the weirdest thing is?"
"Hm?"
"It's as if my power is agreeing with me that it has a weird power expression, in the same way it's pointing out that your or Shadow Stalker's urges are weird."
"That makes no sense."
"I agree," I said flatly.
"Can I inspect your body a little longer?"
I placed my hand back on the table, allowing Amy to touch me and interpret the information.
"There doesn't seem to be anything weird right now. Your corona pollentia has calmed down a little, although it still seems to be somewhat active. The gemma is normal, I'm not seeing anything that's off. Well, your overall happiness seems to have improved, and you appear less traumatized than I'd expect from such a relatively recent trigger. But neither of those are concerning."
"I made up with a former friend," I said. "I don't really want to go into too much detail about what was going on, but it's made my life a lot more enjoyable than it was previously."
Amy nodded while I thought the rest of her statement over.
"You know," I said, "I already noticed this earlier, but I feel like my trigger impacted me less than I'd have expected, if that makes sense? I still don't really want to think about it, but if you'd have asked me a week ago what I'd expect to feel about it, it'd definitely be worse than what I'm actually feeling. I wonder whether my power is involved there."
"You mean it's somehow influencing your emotions?"
"Kind of, yeah," I said. "My Breaker state actually has an aura that makes friends more hopeful while making enemies doubt themselves – it reminded me a bit of your sister's aura. Maybe it somehow influences me in a similar way."
Amy snorted. "Maybe that's why Vicky is so vain sometimes."
I chuckled. "I have never met her myself but she seems… enthusiastic, let's keep it at that."
It appeared the powers-related part of the conversation was over, but we kept talking for a good while longer before going home. I hadn't expected to talk to the girl for a full hour, but we seemed to get along decently well, and a repeat was on the table as far as I was concerned.
Also, I rewrote the hospital/opening scene. It still develops pretty much the same, but characterization hopefully feels better, and we switch back to Amy's PoV at some point during the conversation to show her motivation for accepting Taylor's suggestion to meet up. The old version of the scene will be archived on SpaceBattles as an Apocrypha threadmark, for those who want to compare.
Recruiting Rune was going to take some effort.
Certainly, I wouldn't be able to talk her around in one go. But at the very least there were some openings, some starting points. Most notably, it seemed part of her motivation for joining the Empire in the first place had been to get back at her overly controlling parents, who had distanced themselves from the Empire, though they did still hold the same bigoted beliefs.
Another component, which I figured might well be vital, was that she didn't fully believe in the Empire propaganda, though she did believe in it enough to consider Emma a 'race traitor' for being friends with Sophia. But that minor bit of uncertainty was a starting point that I could use with my power.
There was also something else I'd noticed. At one point, Emma and I had briefly considered coming up with a Sophia-related sob story; either me seeking protection from the Empire, or her having a falling-out with Sophia. We'd discarded the idea immediately as it made our very thoughts feel dirty, but when my power indicated that faking Empire sympathies would be a relatively easy way to get into Rune's good graces, I realized that it hadn't suggested that angle until we brought it up. My gut feeling was that my power wouldn't give me suggestions I wasn't willing to follow up on.
There was another angle that I was willing to pursue, though, but it was a matter of waiting for the right opportunity.
Right then, my phone buzzed, shaking me out of my thoughts. I quickly checked the message to find that Amy Dallon had confirmed the meetup spot and time, and put it away again. My thoughts drifted back to the Wednesday afternoon when we'd bought the phone and Emma had come clean to her parents. In the end, we'd agreed that I would visit at least once a week to allow them to keep tabs on what Emma was doing outside of their purview, which I didn't particularly mind as we had a lot of sleepovers to catch up on – even if I now spent my nights browsing PHO, drawing, writing or whatever solitary activity I felt like doing instead of sleeping.
"Alright, open up," Emma said, jostling me out of my thoughts once more. "What are you thinking about?"
I shrugged half-heartedly. The two of us were alone at our table in the cafeteria, and in particular with Emma's power there was no way anyone could listen in on us unnoticed, so we could talk freely. "Just… the past week, you know. It's been quite something. And I was thinking about Tammi." That was Rune's civilian name, Emma had told me, and we used it instead of 'Rune' for the sake of added safety.
"My power tells me that you're putting more value on working with her than on working with Sophia," Emma observed. "Which might not be so surprising, if it weren't for the part where you don't actually dislike Sophia as much as I might've expected."
I thought about that.
"You might be right. Do you think there's something about my power that influences it?"
"Maybe," Emma said slowly. "I also get the feeling you're thinking about those two more than anyone else here, so there's probably something related to them being parahumans in the first place."
"Another one for the list of power-related things we don't understand," I said. That list was growing longer and longer, with precious few answers for my liking. The trigger event in the hospital, my strange power set – some nightly research seemed to contradict my previous theory that I might be a grab-bag cape – my intuitive understanding of my own powers, this, and…
"Speaking of," I said, "it still bothers me that Sophia's power pushes her to fighting and violence. It just doesn't feel right. Same with Tammi, to a degree, but at least her power isn't actively geared to avoiding fights. And I'd have to see her again to make sure, but I feel like there was something off when I was talking to Panacea as well, and now that I've felt a few other powers, I suspect it might be the same thing."
"And you said our powers don't do that?" Emma asked.
"No," I replied. "My power just wants me to recruit people, which can cause friction but can also reduce it, and your power just wants you to have a lot of social contact with a lot of people, in particular in a group setting like here at school, and you'd do that anyway so it's just… it sounds a bit weird, but I feel like it's just sitting back and relaxing while watching, you know."
"You keep talking about powers like they're people," Emma said, frowning slightly. "Why is that?"
"I'm not sure myself," I admitted. "It just feels… right, I suppose? I never really thought about where powers came from before this, but I guess they can't just pop up out of nowhere, can they?"
"I suppose—no, wait, back to Tammi."
"What?" I asked.
"Pretty sure she's about to make a move. Three girls, her included, so it doesn't get better than this."
I glanced to the side, where Tammi was still sitting with six other people – including three guys – at another table, chatting just like they had been for the entire lunch break. Emma hadn't even looked their way.
Powers were bullshit.
We went through the plan one more time while I did my very best to not glance in Tammi's direction – even if I did, there was no way I'd be able to beat Emma's power-enhanced social awareness.
It took five minutes before Emma interrupted me mid-sentence. She stood up and I followed her lead as we made our way through the cafeteria. Tammi and two other girls stood up several seconds after us, and they also exchanged a few more words with the others from their group before actually leaving. And in a different direction, at that.
Emma led me through a few corridors, and a minute later, we turned a corner to find Tammi and the Empire sympathizers intimidating a black girl from the year below ours. Here, I took the lead from Emma. The news that we'd reconciled had made it's way through the school, and in particular our year, quite quickly thanks to Emma's popularity, which meant that most people knew about it even if they found it surprising. However, Emma was still the girl that was friends with a black girl, while I was still the girl that got bullied by that black girl. And even though we weren't going to use that in our recruitment attempt, it still meant Tammi would be more receptive to my arguments than to Emma's arguments, even if they were the exact same.
Plus, there was the part where my power assisted me to a degree in conversations like this, while Emma would have to rely on her own social skills. Between the two, my power was superior.
"What are you doing?" I demanded. Was my tone a bit rude? Possibly. But then, I had little patience for bullying, and even less for bigotry.
Tammi – the leader of the trio of blondes according to what Emma had told me while we were preparing – turned to me.
"Making sure this bitch doesn't get any ideas from Hess' behavior, of course," she snappishly responded. "I'd think you of all people would get that. Or did that race traitor over there mess with your brain?"
Technically, yes, as she made me trigger.
"The only one here who's acting like they've been inspired by Hess is you," I pointed out.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"You're three-on-one harassing a girl who hasn't done anything just because she 'shouldn't get any ideas'. I don't know about you, but that sounds very familiar to me indeed."
"We're protecting people like you," Tammi argued.
I scoffed. "Fat load of protecting you did for me the last year and a half. If you only do it when it's to your advantage, it's not protection, it's opportunism. I can't remember any of you Empire wannabes ever giving a crap about how Sophia treated me, heck, you'd think I'd at least have had to deal with a recruitment attempt or two, but not even that. No, you're just ignoring her and going after girls who wouldn't hurt a fly because that way you can be sure they aren't going to fight back.
"Sophia might be a bitch, but at least she'd punch a Nazi if she saw them bullying someone. I can't say the same thing the other way around."
The black girl tried to sneak out.
"Hey, where are you going?" one of Tammi's goons called out.
"How about you let her leave?" I asked, taking a step towards the goon.
She turned to me with a snarl on her face. "I don't need to take shit from you, locker girl."
I sucked in a breath, barely avoiding a spiral of panic.
"I'd be more careful if I were you, Jennifer," Emma said before I'd even found my balance, and I felt another spike of panic at the familiar venom in her tone before realizing it wasn't aimed at me. "Or else everyone might learn who you've been crushing on. And how they responded when you confessed. And that's before we get into your brother's… proclivities. I sure hope you don't have those tendencies, or you might get yourself into trouble with the law. Then again, I suppose you're already associating with the right people to get into a life of crime anyway? It's just, there's still a difference between muggings and that."
The girl – Jennifer – seemed torn between retaliating or fleeing for a few seconds, but managed to get herself under enough control to turn to Tammi first.
"Let's go. This shit isn't worth it."
She didn't wait for an answer, and Tammi was visibly displeased at that. She turned towards me for one last remark about sticking my nose in other people's business, then followed Jennifer, her other goon right behind her.
Their victim looked at me and Emma for a second, then squeaked out a thanks before slipping away, but I was already focusing entirely on my friend.
Emma had seemed composed while talking to Jennifer, but now she was shaking visibly, and as I stepped up to her, she collapsed into my arms and started crying.
I hugged her close to me and made a few calming noises. "Are you okay, Emma?" I asked, concerned.
"N-no," she responded. "It's just so easy. I… I thought I wasn't going to do that anymore, and one stupid insult like that and I'm flying right off and tearing her down!"
I felt conflicted. I could see why Emma was upset, yet I also thought this was an entirely different situation from how she'd treated me.
"But you did it for someone else, this time," I pointed out.
"It was still far too easy," Emma objected.
"And she's an Empire wannabe."
"I don't want to be like that anymore," Emma said. "It reminds me of how I was to you. It's – it's my fault you were even in there in the first place. And it made you trigger, no one should – no one should ever be reminded of that."
"Shhh, I'm fine," I said. Strangely, I actually felt like being reminded of my trigger affected me less than I'd have expected, although it was still something I tried to avoid thinking about if at all possible – less than expected wasn't a high bar to clear.
"And Emma?"
"Hm?"
"I'll be there, and I'll tell you if you're being a bitch. Promise."
"I was a bitch."
"No, you were defending me against someone who glorifies a life of crime and believes black people are inferior," I objected.
Emma made a noise that I could identify as reluctant agreement thanks to the many years we'd been friends. Some things hadn't changed just because there'd been a rift.
"I'll keep an eye on you, Emma," I said again. "I know you even better now than I did in the past, and I won't let you slide back, because I know just how much you'd hate yourself."
"Thanks," she murmured.
I squeezed the hug before letting go. "We should get ready for class."
She nodded, drying her eyes. "Yeah." She hesitated. "Did it work? With Tammi? Or did I screw that up too?"
"It's going to be… a process," I said. And not one I was looking forward to. "But I think this was an acceptable starting point. I won't say 'good', but at least I don't think we made it worse, and we did establish contact, which is the most important thing right now. It was never going to be a single-conversation thing, I think."
"I guess not."
I gave her a smile. "And now it's time to get our head back into the education game."
She snorted. "I wish it was a game. That'd imply it was fun."
"Learning is fun," I argued playfully.
Friday night marked our first normal sleepover since the summer of 2009, as I went with Emma to her place after school and stayed there for the night. It all felt a little surreal, like a memory of times gone by, of a simpler and happier life.
The simplicity would never return, we both knew that much, but at least we agreed that we were both happier than we'd been since the ABB's attack – or even Mom's accident, in my case.
We'd even tried sharing the bed like we'd always done in the past – also the first time I even tried to sleep after realizing I no longer needed it – but we quickly changed our mind. It was one thing that we'd entered puberty, but what made it worse was that we'd both discovered an interest in girls, but were very clear about not having such an interest in one another.
Which also caused a bit of a strange – but funny – moment, as neither of us had known about the other's realizations, leading to us coming out to each other at the same time.
In the end I'd taken the mattress that we'd prepared on the ground just in case, and I'd confirmed that I could, indeed, sleep if I really wanted to. It felt a little strange to do, however, and I couldn't help but think it was a bit of a waste of time even though it gave the sleepover experience a more authentic feel.
We spent the Saturday morning together doing a variety of things, but as lunchtime approached, I said my good-byes to Emma and left to meet Panacea, after which I'd be going straight home.
I entered the café right on time for our meeting, and quickly noticed Panacea sitting at a table near the window in civilian clothes, in part thanks to my power immediately suggesting that I should try to recruit her.
Which was interesting, because it had taken a few minutes for Tammi to stand out among the Winslow crowd, yet here it was immediate. And while it was Emma who had noticed I was more eager to recruit Tammi than Sophia, I didn't need anyone's help to realize the difference when it came to Panacea.
It wasn't actually a stronger impulse than when I'd just woken up in the hospital last week, but I was more familiar with my powers now, and that made the difference quite clear. And speaking of, I also had a much easier time divining what felt off about her power than I did last week, and it was the same thing as with Sophia and Tammi; an inexplicable push that didn't match up with her abilities at all.
I sat down opposite the healer and we exchanged greetings. Before either of us brought up anything else, a waitress approached and took our orders. Once she was gone, Amy – as I should probably think of her, considering she wasn't in costume – was the first to speak up.
"So, that flying cape that was spotted last Tuesday. I thought you told me you had a Thinker power, but the timing seems rather… suspicious to me."
Despite the words, I got the impression that she was mostly confused, probably trying to figure out whether it could possibly be me even though I'd demonstrated my Thinker power in our previous conversation.
"I do have a Thinker power," I confirmed, speaking quietly so that we wouldn't be overheard. "But I also have a Breaker power, and yes, that was me. I hadn't yet worked out the details back when we last talked."
"That's a weird combination," Amy said with a frown. "You've got a Thinker power that's always working, and a separate Breaker power?"
"I don't get it either," I admitted. "I did some research, and my situation doesn't fit with grab-bag or cluster triggers, nor could I find anything else that might give someone such unrelated powers."
"Can I inspect you?" Amy asked.
I held my hand forward and allowed her to touch it.
"Are you using your power right now?"
"Is there something weird?" I asked. I would prefer not telling her about the part of my power that helped me get people – and in particular parahumans – on my side; I wasn't sure whether she'd react well to that.
"Your corona pollentia is showing activity levels consistent with power usage."
"I do get the impression that my power appreciates this meeting," I said carefully.
"Appreciates?" Amy asked, confused. "What do you mean by that?"
"My, uhm…" I trailed off. "You know, the Unwritten Rules don't make this easy to explain. I've been talking to someone who also has powers, and they were also surprised at this, but I often feel like my power is… alive, in a way, I guess? And has goals."
"Weird. I've never felt anything like that."
"I'm thinking it might be part of my ability to understand powers," I said. "The person I was talking to, for example, has a power that wants them to be socially active, because the power provides a better understanding of social situations. My power wants me to interact with capes, although it doesn't care whether they're actually in their cape identity or not."
Amy frowned. "Your power doesn't give a shit about the Unwritten Rules, does it?"
"It doesn't," I admitted. "But I'm keeping anything I might learn strictly to myself; I don't want to piss off the gangs." Well, myself and Emma. And whoever else might be convenient. In reality, I had to admit to myself, I only cared about the Unwritten Rules in that I didn't want to make enemies by breaking them.
"Smart," Amy nodded. "My power is the same. If I touch someone, I know they're a parahuman. I've healed several people that I suspect are villains, but I am not going to cause a stir about that because there's no way that'll end well for me. Right now there's the unspoken agreement that everyone keeps their hands off of me because healers are so rare, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."
"Anyway, there's also a bunch of powers that just seem weird to me." I leaned closer to Amy, lowering my voice further. "For example, I go to school with Shadow Stalker, and her power constantly pushes her to be aggressive or fight people. And all I can think is, why? It's a Stranger power, it would make much more sense for it to push her to spy on people or infiltrate somewhere."
"That is kind of weird," Amy admitted. "I'll be honest, I don't really like her. But you're right that her attitude doesn't really fit with her power well."
"I don't like her either," I said. "That's neither here nor there though. Thing is, your power is also being weird. First of all, it's incredibly bored with healing, which is something I can understand – there's nothing new there, just fixing human bodies to approximately the same state over and over again. But the thing is, while it'd like any kind of experimentation from your end, such as making minor, benevolent changes to plants or insects or something, it really wants you to go a lot further than that. Make entirely new species, preferably ones that can fight, alter people's minds in your favor, things like that."
Amy shuddered. "I don't even want to think about that."
"I get that," I said honestly. "I don't get why it's trying to push you to those things though. As an aside, I'm really glad you have the self-control you do. But it should be just as happy with the more benevolent experiments. You could help solve world hunger or combat climate change by fixing carbon – that's still a thing even if people don't really care anymore now that the Endbringers are a far more destructive and immediate threat to the human race. Instead it seems as if it's geared to make you do things that others will take offense with."
A silence fell as Amy seemed to be thinking something over. After a dozen seconds or so, she spoke up.
"It feels really weird to talk with a Thinker, you know."
"How come?" I asked.
"It's…" she made a random gesture with her hand. "This stuff, somewhere deep inside I knew most of it already, but I've never really talked about it with anyone, and then someone I don't even really know comes by and just… plucks it out."
"I didn't get too personal, did I?" I asked, worried – although my power seemed to think I was still on the right track.
"No, nothing like that," Amy said. "If anything, you've helped me figure out what's really bothering me. And to know that some of the ideas I have are because my power is pushing me in that way… it scares me, but at least that means it's not me, you know."
I nodded. "I guess it would feel scary if you think it's just your own thoughts guiding you there."
"Trust me, it's horrible," she said. "You've already given me a lot to think about, and we haven't even talked about your hospital trigger yet."
"I've tried to do some research," I said, "but I can't find anything that makes sense. Assuming those lights I saw and sounds I heard were from my powers before the second trigger, it's not a normal second trigger, because I have absolutely nothing like that now. I thought I might be a grab-bag cape – I'd heard that term before – but that seems to be a consequence of a group trigger, and that didn't happen for either of my triggers. And you know what the weirdest thing is?"
"Hm?"
"It's as if my power is agreeing with me that it has a weird power expression, in the same way it's pointing out that your or Shadow Stalker's urges are weird."
"That makes no sense."
"I agree," I said flatly.
"Can I inspect your body a little longer?"
I placed my hand back on the table, allowing Amy to touch me and interpret the information.
"There doesn't seem to be anything weird right now. Your corona pollentia has calmed down a little, although it still seems to be somewhat active. The gemma is normal, I'm not seeing anything that's off. Well, your overall happiness seems to have improved, and you appear less traumatized than I'd expect from such a relatively recent trigger. But neither of those are concerning."
"I made up with a former friend," I said. "I don't really want to go into too much detail about what was going on, but it's made my life a lot more enjoyable than it was previously."
Amy nodded while I thought the rest of her statement over.
"You know," I said, "I already noticed this earlier, but I feel like my trigger impacted me less than I'd have expected, if that makes sense? I still don't really want to think about it, but if you'd have asked me a week ago what I'd expect to feel about it, it'd definitely be worse than what I'm actually feeling. I wonder whether my power is involved there."
"You mean it's somehow influencing your emotions?"
"Kind of, yeah," I said. "My Breaker state actually has an aura that makes friends more hopeful while making enemies doubt themselves – it reminded me a bit of your sister's aura. Maybe it somehow influences me in a similar way."
Amy snorted. "Maybe that's why Vicky is so vain sometimes."
I chuckled. "I have never met her myself but she seems… enthusiastic, let's keep it at that."
It appeared the powers-related part of the conversation was over, but we kept talking for a good while longer before going home. I hadn't expected to talk to the girl for a full hour, but we seemed to get along decently well, and a repeat was on the table as far as I was concerned.
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Hexcalibur
Not So Ordinary Sword
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- It
How widespread is the knowledge that powers want to be used creatively in this setting? In some stories even Cauldron doesn't know, while in some almost everybody knows.
Through simple observation, several groups (e.g. various government agencies, the PRT, Cauldron) have figured out that people with powers are prone to seeking or engaging in conflict. Beyond that, any knowledge is dependent on powers revealing things, like Taylor's is doing. And outside Taylor herself that's basically limited to Glaistig Uaine (differently sane) and Jack Slash (psychopath). Yes, Jack Slash is aware of his Master ability in this setting. He and GU will get a shared interlude near the end of the arc, in fact, which will shed some more light on these things.
nice, i look forward to more
also piggot, new wave and pretty much every gang is going throw a hissy fit if taylor and emma can recruit a lot of caps right under everyone's noses before revealing themselves
oh god if they mange to recruit vista along with purity and potentially squealer they would be a force to be feared and respected not to mention vista has the potential to be the most powerful cap in broketen
also isnt there like 20 to 50 off-screen caps running around broketen that are never brought up in the story?
also piggot, new wave and pretty much every gang is going throw a hissy fit if taylor and emma can recruit a lot of caps right under everyone's noses before revealing themselves
oh god if they mange to recruit vista along with purity and potentially squealer they would be a force to be feared and respected not to mention vista has the potential to be the most powerful cap in broketen
also isnt there like 20 to 50 off-screen caps running around broketen that are never brought up in the story?
The impression I've gotten from reading comments on various fics plus what I remember of wading through the first half of so of WORM (it was too grim/dark for me to want to continue after a point) has been that most of the off-screen capes are minor powers; transitory/passing through; or short lived enough not to warrant too much attention. Parian generally being the only rogue and Sofia being pretty much the only (ex) vigilante that anyone mentions. Logic would suggest that there are probably a number of minor players for each of the major players who get mentioned in story, but there could also be a culling effect for weaker capes with only the "strong" or "lucky" surviving for any length of time or perhaps some capes preferring to keep to the shadows and not draw too much attention to themselves.
Not everyone will appreciate Taylor and Emma's entrance onto the scene, that's for sure.
It gets wild once Glaistig Uaine gets involved in the story though (not hinted at in the story itself yet, but she's in the tags over on ffn and ao3 so it's a bit of a giveaway that she will be).
Those are all names that are on the list of possible recruitment targets that I created while I was outlining this story.
There probably are, but I dislike using OCs unless necessary so they'll remain off-screen in this fic as well.
1.6 Awakening
AN: One day late due to RL, but here it is.
After class was over, I made my way over to the hallway that contained Emma's locker, where she was already waiting and chatting with Madison.
I'd agreed with Emma that I'd start using my own locker again next week – I had to get over it at some point – but in order to give me a bit more space, Emma would put my possessions in her locker for the moment, while I could hang back and let her grab what I needed without having to get close to one of the blasted things.
"Here you are, Taylor," she said as soon as she spotted me, handing over my bag and coat. Emma's perception had definitely improved as a side effect of her power – it picked up on anyone within her eyesight, including in her peripheral vision, and on top of that it even picked up on their stance towards people who weren't themselves in Emma's eyesight, allowing her to deduce that someone had to have entered the room – or, in this case, hallway – through seeing someone else.
I found it pretty impressive that Emma could handle all that information at the same time, but it seemed to be a fundamental part of the power she'd received.
"We'll meet up tomorrow at my place, okay?" Emma said to Madison. "I hope you understand I've got a lot to talk about with Taylor, in every way you can imagine."
Madison nodded. "Yeah, I do understand. Just, well, I can't deny that I'm a bit worried about how you're holding up. I've picked up more than enough regarding how bad it feels to go through that, and you're my friend, Emma."
"I know, and thank you, Mads. But spending time with Taylor is probably the best way for me to deal with it. Considering my specific situation, and everything."
Madison nodded again. "Yeah, I get that. I'll see you tomorrow at school then, and after as well. Um, I guess I'll see you around too, Taylor."
"Bye," I said a bit half-heartedly as she slipped off.
"Well, let's go, or we'll miss the bus," Emma said.
"It still feels a bit weird how different she treats me now," I said as we made our way towards the bus stop.
"I'm surprised, too," Emma agreed. She looked around, her power no doubt helping her ensure no one was eavesdropping. "I knew she was a cape geek – heck, I saw the borderline worship when Sophia revealed her secret to her – but I hadn't thought she'd do such a complete turnaround. I'm happy about it though, I'd rather not have to get between her and you. Dealing with Sophia is already complicated enough."
"Thanks," I said. "For, you know, keeping people away from me." I'd barely had to deal with anything over the past few days, after Emma had spread the word that I was to be left alone. Although those weren't quite the words in which she'd put it – after all, she'd had to justify not just leaving me alone, but also that she was now treating me as a close friend.
"Anything for you, Taylor. You don't deserve anything less from me."
"How are people reacting, actually?" I asked as we arrived at the stop. The bus was already approaching in the distance.
"My own skills definitely make it easier," Emma said, avoiding the word 'powers' in case someone was listening in. "But I doubt I'll be back to being the most popular girl in the year any time soon. If I even want to get back there."
"You don't?" I asked, as the bus arrived. We got in and took seats next to each other.
"It's hard to become popular without pushing your competition down. No, I'm not saying that right. You can become popular just by being nice. But you can't become the most popular without pulling down your competitors. Because they're going to be doing the same thing to you, so your own popularity is going to suffer."
I frowned despite myself. "Is anyone screwing with you like that?"
"No," Emma said, and I felt relieved. "There's a bunch who want to, but between everyone knowing that my dad is a lawyer, that the school administration likes me, and that Sophia is one of my friends – even if there's a bit of tension between us right now – they're just leaving me be, because right now I'm spending too much time with you to be a threat to them anyway."
"That sounds like a perfectly reasonable place to be," I said.
"It is," Emma agreed. "I can easily tell if someone is considering trying to screw with me, so I can head it off if I really need to, but if there's one takeaway from the last year and a half that's not related to you, it's that being popular isn't really worth all that much."
I smirked. "Is this really the same Emma that I remember?"
She smiled. "Just a little more grown-up."
"So grown up that you consider popularity in school to be something stupid that self-centered teenagers pursue," I teased.
She snorted. "Don't be silly. I still like the challenges of social status, you know."
"There we go, that's the Emma I remember."
"I'm just a little less selfish about it, I guess," Emma said as she turned contemplative. "It's not a goal anymore, it's a means I can use to pursue actual goals. Things that matter."
I laid my head on her shoulder. "I never thought I'd hear something that mature coming out of your mouth, Ems."
"Shut it, you," she said, having the audacity to poke me in my ribs. "Just because you've always been the reasonable one that doesn't mean I can't work at it myself. Change the dynamic between us a little."
"What? No!" I said in mock offense. "Soon you'll be expecting me to actually work with people now!"
Rather than tease me, Emma frowned, turning more serious. "Isn't that kind of what you've been doing this past week?" With my powers, was the unspoken part of that sentence.
"I… guess so," I said as I thought about that. "But I don't know how I'd manage everything without you backing me up. Like, I'm supposed to get Sophia and Tammi to get along with each other?"
"You could ignore Sophia," Emma pointed out.
"I could," I admitted. She wasn't exactly a priority as far as my power was concerned, but on the other hand, no matter what I thought of her she was still Emma's friend, as well as an easy contact with the Wards – and through them the Protectorate. And then there was the other thing.
"Her violent streak bothers me," I said, knowing Emma would get what I meant. "It just… doesn't seem right."
She nodded. "If you're right that it's not, and can figure out how to do something about it, I'd like that. I think I was a bit blind to her issues in the past, and I still want to like her, but she definitely needs to mellow out."
"I can't promise I can do something about it," I pointed out. "But it's definitely something I want to look into, even if it's not in my skillset. It might be more in yours, actually."
Emma considered that as we got up to leave the bus, having arrived at our stop.
"I don't think it really is," she said, now able to talk freely again. "My power gives me information, it doesn't help me influence people. But I can try to be a positive influence on her in more mundane ways."
"With some luck, recruiting her might also help," I said.
"Perhaps," Emma agreed. "I'll keep talking to her to see if she'll tell me when she's planning a solo patrol. The PRT doesn't like it when she does that, but so long as she doesn't use excessive violence they can't really do anything to stop her."
"It'd be nice to have a costume by then," I said as we entered Emma's home and put away our winter clothing. "We really need to think about that."
"We should," Emma agreed, leading me to the living room. We both called out a greeting to her mom, who was busy in the kitchen as far as I could tell.
"I actually have no clue how other parahumans get their costumes," I admitted.
"Neither do I," Emma said. "I mean, for the Protectorate and the Wards it's obvious, they'll have costume designers."
"It's a big deal," I said. "You pretty much have to link your civilian and cape identities for someone, unless you make it yourself. And I don't think I could do that, if I don't want to end up with some stupid mess of patched-together clothes."
Emma smirked. "Are my ears deceiving me? Do you have a sense of style, Taylor?"
I huffed. "I don't want to look like a homeless person instead of a hero, that's all."
"It would be nice to have an expert…" Emma said, half to herself. Then, she snapped her fingers. "I've got it! We can go to one of my modeling contacts! We just need to figure out who is the most trustworthy. And then maybe get Dad to write up a contract or something for extra protection for our identities."
"That's… a really good idea," I said. "I was already thinking we should ask a cape or something, but there's no way that'd work out when you think about it. You're right, much better to go through someone you already know."
"You're not staying all the way until dinner, are you?"
"No," I said.
"I'll talk to Dad at dinner, and then I'll tell you tomorrow, okay?"
"Sounds good," I said, giving Emma a smile.
The next weekend, on Saturday evening, I was out on my own for the first time – as a cape, that was. Earlier, we'd met up with one of Emma's contacts to have our measurements taken and everything, which was just as boring as I'd always imagined it to be, so I didn't have a costume yet, but luckily I didn't need one so long as I remained in my Breaker form.
It felt a little uncomfortable to do so, in a way I couldn't place very well, but there were no genuine limits on how long I could remain in this form. Also, while I did give off a very faint glow, it wasn't enough to reveal me from miles away. It was hard to compare because I was practically monochrome, with the color being a pale yellow-white, but I didn't think I was even giving off as much light as my regular appearance would during the day purely from the light it would be reflecting.
Still, it also wasn't exactly stealthy. Unlike my target for the night. Shadow Stalker would be dressed in all black, and the small parts of her skin that were exposed were of course not much lighter. If Emma hadn't told me what her patrol route would be, there was no way I'd be able to find her.
Even while looking for her, I still needed my power's help to locate her – I didn't get to know any nearby parahuman's location for free, but the moment I paid attention to what I thought was movement, my power activated.
She'd already spotted me, but when I started moving towards her with a lazy beat of my wings – more for show than to keep myself airborne – she froze and kept one of her crossbows at the ready.
"Who are you?" she demanded as I approached hearing range.
"Queen," I responded. "New independent hero."
Shadow Stalker relaxed slightly, but kept her crossbow at the ready. "You're patrolling?" she asked.
"I am," I said. "First time out."
"Yeah, I figured that much, there's no way any cape in the city wouldn't know about you if you'd been out before."
"How come?" I asked.
"Stealth doesn't exactly seem to be your strong point," Shadow Stalker said derisively.
"Fair enough," I agreed. "I don't have to be in my Breaker form though – only for combat. I'm just keeping it active because my costume isn't finished yet."
"Couldn't resist the call of the hunt?" Shadow Stalker asked.
"In a way." Not the hunt she was thinking of, but a hunt nonetheless.
"Well, make sure to fuck the scum up." She turned to leave.
"How about we patrol together?" I suggested.
"And give away our position to everyone? Are you stupid?"
"Don't be so dismissive," I said with some amusement. "We can use my appearance to our advantage if we play it right."
I couldn't see her face, of course, but I got the impression she was very doubtful of that claim.
After a few seconds, she snorted. "Sure, I'll humor you. You got a patrol route?"
"Not really," I admitted. "I'm okay with following yours; I can get back without much trouble wherever in the city we go."
Shadow Stalker gave a short description of the route she planned on taking, and we set off. She used her powers to move from roof to roof, while I simply flew where needed. Of course, she wasn't stupid enough to blindly trust a new self-proclaimed hero, and kept an eye on me at all times.
Despite that, she was much more experienced at spotting trouble than me, and was therefore the first to notice a mugging about to occur a little down the road.
"So, what's your plan?" she snarked. "Get close and watch them run before you can get to them?"
"No," I said. "You approach them while remaining out of vision, and lie in wait. Once they spot me, you use the distraction to engage them."
She gave me what appeared to be a calculating look before nodding and slipping off through the shadows.
Meanwhile, I waited for about half a minute, right up until the moment the muggers left their hiding spots to ambush a pair of unwitting victims. Then, I took off from my roof and quickly made my way to the alley the muggers had chosen for their ambush.
As I flew over the alley, both the muggers and the victim took note of me – helped by the rush of wind generated by a flap of my wings. Of the five muggers, three immediately aimed their guns at me – all of them had a gun on them – while the last two continued to point them at their victims.
I landed opposite of where I'd come from, facing the group.
"Back off," one of the muggers said. Based on the shaved heads and tattoos, they seemed to be E88 – unsurprising, as Shadow Stalker's patrol route mostly covered E88 territory. "Or we'll shoot them." He indicated their victims.
"If you shoot them, I have no reason not to respond with lethal force," I countered. "Let's talk about this, shall we?" I kept my arms spread as if to show I was unarmed, but we both knew the gesture was meaningless – plenty of capes didn't need to carry regular weapons; and indeed, I was one of them.
On the other side, Shadow Stalker was moving into a better position unnoticed, both her crossbows ready to fire. The leader of the muggers – or at least, I assumed that was why he was doing the talking – just opened his mouth to respond to me when Shadow Stalker leapt out of her hiding spot and down onto the street.
Immediately, I jumped up and used my flight abilities to dash forward faster than I'd have been able to if I'd genuinely had to rely on my wings. At that same time, Shadow Stalker aimed and released her bolts. One of them hit a hostage taker in the arm in which he'd held his gun, forcing him to drop it, while the other zipped straight through the hostages before materializing inside the other mugger's shoulder, making him drop his gun too.
Meanwhile, I formed a sword of light in my hands as I approached. All three muggers on my side shot at me, and though one of the bullets went through my hip, it registered to me more akin to being touched than to being hurt – although I was still able to tell the difference. I did not stop to look, but I knew it seemed as if wisps of light were escaping my body through the 'holes' made by the bullet. It did not impede my movements and I knew it would take only a minute or so to heal completely, so I didn't acknowledge it.
Another shot whizzed just past my ear right when I arrived at the trio, and I swung my blade. My powers did not make me a master with it – I distantly figured I should probably see if I could receive training in various forms of weaponry – but did provide the basics required to not look like an idiot.
Thankfully, despite the superficial similarities between the two light-emitting blades, my weapon did not cut through the muggers as a lightsaber would have, instead only causing a deep cut in the arm of my first opponent.
The feeling was very different from what I'd expect a normal hit to be like, however; rather than getting caught in threads of clothing or sliding through soft material before getting stuck on something tougher, I lost speed more gradually, as if the blade were simply sinking into the arm.
It felt more like a way to avoid being overly lethal than it felt like an actual inability to cut through something.
Still, in the battle I did not pause to think about this – I'd all known it instinctively thanks to my Thinker abilities – and simply immediately moved to the second mugger. He'd drawn a knife, clearly not confident in his ability to use his gun in such close quarters, but it did not matter as I pierced his shoulder. The third one did get another shot off and almost hit his friend – and did manage to pierce my chest, although it didn't inconvenience me much more than the earlier hit – but then took a bolt from Shadow Stalker, who had finished reloading.
"I see what you meant," she said as she fumbled in her pockets for some tie-wraps. "That would've been difficult alone, and none of them had the faintest idea I was there until I got the two that weren't focusing on you. You going to be okay?"
I glanced down, where some wisps of light were still leaking out, roughly in the spot where my heart normally was.
"This should heal in a minute or two," I said while pulling out my burner phone – Emma had ensured I had one on me, one of the many tricks she'd learned from Sophia. "I call the police while you tie them up?"
"Yeah, sure," Shadow Stalker grunted. "And an ambulance, they get snappy if you don't."
Well, duh, I thought to myself. The two I'd stabbed certainly required aid, and I figured the other three probably did as well. Even if none of them had any life-threatening injuries.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I walked up to the would-be victims. At the same time, my fingers moved over the keys of my phone to type in 911, and I put it to my ear.
I nodded in response to the stammered thanks from the pair, but before I had the chance to respond to them, the call was picked up.
"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"
"Hello, new independent hero Queen here. I've just stopped a mugging at…" I checked the street sign and conveyed the information. "The victims are uninjured, but all five muggers are wounded one way or another, although none life-threatening. Shadow Stalker is also here."
"Thank you," the operator said. "I'll send some police and an ambulance your way. Please remain at the scene until your statement has been taken, and please request the victims do the same."
"I'll do that," I responded, and a moment after that, the operator hung up – in a city like Brockton Bay, every second probably counted.
I put the phone back in my pocket and conveyed the information to the victims, who were clearly still shaken.
However, over the next few minutes I managed to coax out a bit of conversation – Shadow Stalker gave me a glance that I suspected meant to convey that she thought I was stupid for doing so – but hopefully I could put the duo at least slightly at ease.
It took less than ten minutes for the first police car to arrive, and they immediately took our statements. A few minutes later, Shadow Stalker and I were back on our way just when a van for prisoner transport turned the corner.
"Not bad for a rookie hero," Shadow Stalker said.
"One of my friends knows a heroic cape," I responded. "Got a lot of good advice that way."
"Skirting the unwritten rules, huh?" she questioned.
"Never said she shared the identity of the cape with me," I said. "And besides, she's a cape herself, although a new one, just like me. Administrator, is what she decided to call herself."
Shadow Stalker scoffed. "Seriously? Could that name be any more lame?"
"Don't underestimate her," I said. "She has quite a potent Thinker power. Although I will admit that her combat value is close to zero. But then, a good cape organization needs both."
"Not joining anyone already out there?" she asked.
"I don't do well under someone else's orders," I said. "It's inherent to my powers. I wish the Protectorate and Wards all the best, and I hope to be on good terms with all of you, but I won't be joining. Same with New Wave."
Shadow Stalker grunted. "I can respect that. Trust me, the freedom is worth it."
"You're a Ward," I pointed out.
"Because they threatened me over a few injured fucking skinheads," she spat. "Claimed I used excessive violence. As if that scum doesn't deserve excessive violence."
"No one deserves excessive violence," I parried, unwilling to let that one go. "We're a civilized society, we have prisons for those people. And people who want to be violent can go find themselves a gym with a punching bag."
She scoffed, but I talked over her before she could argue against me.
"I've been at the receiving end of a ton of undeserved excessive violence, Shadow Stalker. That's what caused my fucking trigger. If violence is needed, I'll use it, but praising violence is not a healthy behavior and you will harm innocent people if you do that."
"Whoa whoa, sorry, didn't mean to push your trigger, okay?" she responded defensively, although her heart didn't seem to be in the apology.
"It's fine," I said. This was, I felt, a bit of a crossroads in terms of my future recruitment efforts of the girl, and thankfully my power came to my aid. "Look, I want to get rid of the Empire and the ABB and all the others as much as you, okay? But if you just maim skinheads left and right it becomes piss easy for them to paint you like a bastard cop who's just in it to satisfy their own sadism. Even if that's not true. And then they get sympathy while you get hatred. So let's not give them the opportunity. Just capture them with minimal violence and lock them up, that way you look good and they look bad."
Shadow Stalker scoffed. "Yay, people like me. What does that get me?"
That was an open goal if I'd ever seen one. "People will be more willing to tattle on E88 activities. People will be less likely to join the E88. People will be less likely to protect the E88. People will be more likely to resist E88 schemes. And so on."
"I doubt that's gonna do anything."
"Okay, let's turn things around. What do you get from using excessive violence?"
Shadow Stalker remained silent.
"Nothing at all," I concluded. "So you might as well take your chances, right? Anyway, let's not allow our disagreement to make us forget that we did get some of the assholes off the street tonight. I'm not sure about you, but I'm happy with how the patrol went. At least, I'm thinking of going home now. I don't know if you are."
"Yeah, sure," she responded dismissively. "I'll just finish the last few blocks, doubt there'll be anything going on this late though."
"See you another time, then," I said before flying off towards Emma's home. She would want to know how things went, and I'd have to go through a few things that she might want to bring up with Sophia if she saw the opportunity to play off of what we'd talked about on the patrol.
After class was over, I made my way over to the hallway that contained Emma's locker, where she was already waiting and chatting with Madison.
I'd agreed with Emma that I'd start using my own locker again next week – I had to get over it at some point – but in order to give me a bit more space, Emma would put my possessions in her locker for the moment, while I could hang back and let her grab what I needed without having to get close to one of the blasted things.
"Here you are, Taylor," she said as soon as she spotted me, handing over my bag and coat. Emma's perception had definitely improved as a side effect of her power – it picked up on anyone within her eyesight, including in her peripheral vision, and on top of that it even picked up on their stance towards people who weren't themselves in Emma's eyesight, allowing her to deduce that someone had to have entered the room – or, in this case, hallway – through seeing someone else.
I found it pretty impressive that Emma could handle all that information at the same time, but it seemed to be a fundamental part of the power she'd received.
"We'll meet up tomorrow at my place, okay?" Emma said to Madison. "I hope you understand I've got a lot to talk about with Taylor, in every way you can imagine."
Madison nodded. "Yeah, I do understand. Just, well, I can't deny that I'm a bit worried about how you're holding up. I've picked up more than enough regarding how bad it feels to go through that, and you're my friend, Emma."
"I know, and thank you, Mads. But spending time with Taylor is probably the best way for me to deal with it. Considering my specific situation, and everything."
Madison nodded again. "Yeah, I get that. I'll see you tomorrow at school then, and after as well. Um, I guess I'll see you around too, Taylor."
"Bye," I said a bit half-heartedly as she slipped off.
"Well, let's go, or we'll miss the bus," Emma said.
"It still feels a bit weird how different she treats me now," I said as we made our way towards the bus stop.
"I'm surprised, too," Emma agreed. She looked around, her power no doubt helping her ensure no one was eavesdropping. "I knew she was a cape geek – heck, I saw the borderline worship when Sophia revealed her secret to her – but I hadn't thought she'd do such a complete turnaround. I'm happy about it though, I'd rather not have to get between her and you. Dealing with Sophia is already complicated enough."
"Thanks," I said. "For, you know, keeping people away from me." I'd barely had to deal with anything over the past few days, after Emma had spread the word that I was to be left alone. Although those weren't quite the words in which she'd put it – after all, she'd had to justify not just leaving me alone, but also that she was now treating me as a close friend.
"Anything for you, Taylor. You don't deserve anything less from me."
"How are people reacting, actually?" I asked as we arrived at the stop. The bus was already approaching in the distance.
"My own skills definitely make it easier," Emma said, avoiding the word 'powers' in case someone was listening in. "But I doubt I'll be back to being the most popular girl in the year any time soon. If I even want to get back there."
"You don't?" I asked, as the bus arrived. We got in and took seats next to each other.
"It's hard to become popular without pushing your competition down. No, I'm not saying that right. You can become popular just by being nice. But you can't become the most popular without pulling down your competitors. Because they're going to be doing the same thing to you, so your own popularity is going to suffer."
I frowned despite myself. "Is anyone screwing with you like that?"
"No," Emma said, and I felt relieved. "There's a bunch who want to, but between everyone knowing that my dad is a lawyer, that the school administration likes me, and that Sophia is one of my friends – even if there's a bit of tension between us right now – they're just leaving me be, because right now I'm spending too much time with you to be a threat to them anyway."
"That sounds like a perfectly reasonable place to be," I said.
"It is," Emma agreed. "I can easily tell if someone is considering trying to screw with me, so I can head it off if I really need to, but if there's one takeaway from the last year and a half that's not related to you, it's that being popular isn't really worth all that much."
I smirked. "Is this really the same Emma that I remember?"
She smiled. "Just a little more grown-up."
"So grown up that you consider popularity in school to be something stupid that self-centered teenagers pursue," I teased.
She snorted. "Don't be silly. I still like the challenges of social status, you know."
"There we go, that's the Emma I remember."
"I'm just a little less selfish about it, I guess," Emma said as she turned contemplative. "It's not a goal anymore, it's a means I can use to pursue actual goals. Things that matter."
I laid my head on her shoulder. "I never thought I'd hear something that mature coming out of your mouth, Ems."
"Shut it, you," she said, having the audacity to poke me in my ribs. "Just because you've always been the reasonable one that doesn't mean I can't work at it myself. Change the dynamic between us a little."
"What? No!" I said in mock offense. "Soon you'll be expecting me to actually work with people now!"
Rather than tease me, Emma frowned, turning more serious. "Isn't that kind of what you've been doing this past week?" With my powers, was the unspoken part of that sentence.
"I… guess so," I said as I thought about that. "But I don't know how I'd manage everything without you backing me up. Like, I'm supposed to get Sophia and Tammi to get along with each other?"
"You could ignore Sophia," Emma pointed out.
"I could," I admitted. She wasn't exactly a priority as far as my power was concerned, but on the other hand, no matter what I thought of her she was still Emma's friend, as well as an easy contact with the Wards – and through them the Protectorate. And then there was the other thing.
"Her violent streak bothers me," I said, knowing Emma would get what I meant. "It just… doesn't seem right."
She nodded. "If you're right that it's not, and can figure out how to do something about it, I'd like that. I think I was a bit blind to her issues in the past, and I still want to like her, but she definitely needs to mellow out."
"I can't promise I can do something about it," I pointed out. "But it's definitely something I want to look into, even if it's not in my skillset. It might be more in yours, actually."
Emma considered that as we got up to leave the bus, having arrived at our stop.
"I don't think it really is," she said, now able to talk freely again. "My power gives me information, it doesn't help me influence people. But I can try to be a positive influence on her in more mundane ways."
"With some luck, recruiting her might also help," I said.
"Perhaps," Emma agreed. "I'll keep talking to her to see if she'll tell me when she's planning a solo patrol. The PRT doesn't like it when she does that, but so long as she doesn't use excessive violence they can't really do anything to stop her."
"It'd be nice to have a costume by then," I said as we entered Emma's home and put away our winter clothing. "We really need to think about that."
"We should," Emma agreed, leading me to the living room. We both called out a greeting to her mom, who was busy in the kitchen as far as I could tell.
"I actually have no clue how other parahumans get their costumes," I admitted.
"Neither do I," Emma said. "I mean, for the Protectorate and the Wards it's obvious, they'll have costume designers."
"It's a big deal," I said. "You pretty much have to link your civilian and cape identities for someone, unless you make it yourself. And I don't think I could do that, if I don't want to end up with some stupid mess of patched-together clothes."
Emma smirked. "Are my ears deceiving me? Do you have a sense of style, Taylor?"
I huffed. "I don't want to look like a homeless person instead of a hero, that's all."
"It would be nice to have an expert…" Emma said, half to herself. Then, she snapped her fingers. "I've got it! We can go to one of my modeling contacts! We just need to figure out who is the most trustworthy. And then maybe get Dad to write up a contract or something for extra protection for our identities."
"That's… a really good idea," I said. "I was already thinking we should ask a cape or something, but there's no way that'd work out when you think about it. You're right, much better to go through someone you already know."
"You're not staying all the way until dinner, are you?"
"No," I said.
"I'll talk to Dad at dinner, and then I'll tell you tomorrow, okay?"
"Sounds good," I said, giving Emma a smile.
The next weekend, on Saturday evening, I was out on my own for the first time – as a cape, that was. Earlier, we'd met up with one of Emma's contacts to have our measurements taken and everything, which was just as boring as I'd always imagined it to be, so I didn't have a costume yet, but luckily I didn't need one so long as I remained in my Breaker form.
It felt a little uncomfortable to do so, in a way I couldn't place very well, but there were no genuine limits on how long I could remain in this form. Also, while I did give off a very faint glow, it wasn't enough to reveal me from miles away. It was hard to compare because I was practically monochrome, with the color being a pale yellow-white, but I didn't think I was even giving off as much light as my regular appearance would during the day purely from the light it would be reflecting.
Still, it also wasn't exactly stealthy. Unlike my target for the night. Shadow Stalker would be dressed in all black, and the small parts of her skin that were exposed were of course not much lighter. If Emma hadn't told me what her patrol route would be, there was no way I'd be able to find her.
Even while looking for her, I still needed my power's help to locate her – I didn't get to know any nearby parahuman's location for free, but the moment I paid attention to what I thought was movement, my power activated.
She'd already spotted me, but when I started moving towards her with a lazy beat of my wings – more for show than to keep myself airborne – she froze and kept one of her crossbows at the ready.
"Who are you?" she demanded as I approached hearing range.
"Queen," I responded. "New independent hero."
Shadow Stalker relaxed slightly, but kept her crossbow at the ready. "You're patrolling?" she asked.
"I am," I said. "First time out."
"Yeah, I figured that much, there's no way any cape in the city wouldn't know about you if you'd been out before."
"How come?" I asked.
"Stealth doesn't exactly seem to be your strong point," Shadow Stalker said derisively.
"Fair enough," I agreed. "I don't have to be in my Breaker form though – only for combat. I'm just keeping it active because my costume isn't finished yet."
"Couldn't resist the call of the hunt?" Shadow Stalker asked.
"In a way." Not the hunt she was thinking of, but a hunt nonetheless.
"Well, make sure to fuck the scum up." She turned to leave.
"How about we patrol together?" I suggested.
"And give away our position to everyone? Are you stupid?"
"Don't be so dismissive," I said with some amusement. "We can use my appearance to our advantage if we play it right."
I couldn't see her face, of course, but I got the impression she was very doubtful of that claim.
After a few seconds, she snorted. "Sure, I'll humor you. You got a patrol route?"
"Not really," I admitted. "I'm okay with following yours; I can get back without much trouble wherever in the city we go."
Shadow Stalker gave a short description of the route she planned on taking, and we set off. She used her powers to move from roof to roof, while I simply flew where needed. Of course, she wasn't stupid enough to blindly trust a new self-proclaimed hero, and kept an eye on me at all times.
Despite that, she was much more experienced at spotting trouble than me, and was therefore the first to notice a mugging about to occur a little down the road.
"So, what's your plan?" she snarked. "Get close and watch them run before you can get to them?"
"No," I said. "You approach them while remaining out of vision, and lie in wait. Once they spot me, you use the distraction to engage them."
She gave me what appeared to be a calculating look before nodding and slipping off through the shadows.
Meanwhile, I waited for about half a minute, right up until the moment the muggers left their hiding spots to ambush a pair of unwitting victims. Then, I took off from my roof and quickly made my way to the alley the muggers had chosen for their ambush.
As I flew over the alley, both the muggers and the victim took note of me – helped by the rush of wind generated by a flap of my wings. Of the five muggers, three immediately aimed their guns at me – all of them had a gun on them – while the last two continued to point them at their victims.
I landed opposite of where I'd come from, facing the group.
"Back off," one of the muggers said. Based on the shaved heads and tattoos, they seemed to be E88 – unsurprising, as Shadow Stalker's patrol route mostly covered E88 territory. "Or we'll shoot them." He indicated their victims.
"If you shoot them, I have no reason not to respond with lethal force," I countered. "Let's talk about this, shall we?" I kept my arms spread as if to show I was unarmed, but we both knew the gesture was meaningless – plenty of capes didn't need to carry regular weapons; and indeed, I was one of them.
On the other side, Shadow Stalker was moving into a better position unnoticed, both her crossbows ready to fire. The leader of the muggers – or at least, I assumed that was why he was doing the talking – just opened his mouth to respond to me when Shadow Stalker leapt out of her hiding spot and down onto the street.
Immediately, I jumped up and used my flight abilities to dash forward faster than I'd have been able to if I'd genuinely had to rely on my wings. At that same time, Shadow Stalker aimed and released her bolts. One of them hit a hostage taker in the arm in which he'd held his gun, forcing him to drop it, while the other zipped straight through the hostages before materializing inside the other mugger's shoulder, making him drop his gun too.
Meanwhile, I formed a sword of light in my hands as I approached. All three muggers on my side shot at me, and though one of the bullets went through my hip, it registered to me more akin to being touched than to being hurt – although I was still able to tell the difference. I did not stop to look, but I knew it seemed as if wisps of light were escaping my body through the 'holes' made by the bullet. It did not impede my movements and I knew it would take only a minute or so to heal completely, so I didn't acknowledge it.
Another shot whizzed just past my ear right when I arrived at the trio, and I swung my blade. My powers did not make me a master with it – I distantly figured I should probably see if I could receive training in various forms of weaponry – but did provide the basics required to not look like an idiot.
Thankfully, despite the superficial similarities between the two light-emitting blades, my weapon did not cut through the muggers as a lightsaber would have, instead only causing a deep cut in the arm of my first opponent.
The feeling was very different from what I'd expect a normal hit to be like, however; rather than getting caught in threads of clothing or sliding through soft material before getting stuck on something tougher, I lost speed more gradually, as if the blade were simply sinking into the arm.
It felt more like a way to avoid being overly lethal than it felt like an actual inability to cut through something.
Still, in the battle I did not pause to think about this – I'd all known it instinctively thanks to my Thinker abilities – and simply immediately moved to the second mugger. He'd drawn a knife, clearly not confident in his ability to use his gun in such close quarters, but it did not matter as I pierced his shoulder. The third one did get another shot off and almost hit his friend – and did manage to pierce my chest, although it didn't inconvenience me much more than the earlier hit – but then took a bolt from Shadow Stalker, who had finished reloading.
"I see what you meant," she said as she fumbled in her pockets for some tie-wraps. "That would've been difficult alone, and none of them had the faintest idea I was there until I got the two that weren't focusing on you. You going to be okay?"
I glanced down, where some wisps of light were still leaking out, roughly in the spot where my heart normally was.
"This should heal in a minute or two," I said while pulling out my burner phone – Emma had ensured I had one on me, one of the many tricks she'd learned from Sophia. "I call the police while you tie them up?"
"Yeah, sure," Shadow Stalker grunted. "And an ambulance, they get snappy if you don't."
Well, duh, I thought to myself. The two I'd stabbed certainly required aid, and I figured the other three probably did as well. Even if none of them had any life-threatening injuries.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I walked up to the would-be victims. At the same time, my fingers moved over the keys of my phone to type in 911, and I put it to my ear.
I nodded in response to the stammered thanks from the pair, but before I had the chance to respond to them, the call was picked up.
"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"
"Hello, new independent hero Queen here. I've just stopped a mugging at…" I checked the street sign and conveyed the information. "The victims are uninjured, but all five muggers are wounded one way or another, although none life-threatening. Shadow Stalker is also here."
"Thank you," the operator said. "I'll send some police and an ambulance your way. Please remain at the scene until your statement has been taken, and please request the victims do the same."
"I'll do that," I responded, and a moment after that, the operator hung up – in a city like Brockton Bay, every second probably counted.
I put the phone back in my pocket and conveyed the information to the victims, who were clearly still shaken.
However, over the next few minutes I managed to coax out a bit of conversation – Shadow Stalker gave me a glance that I suspected meant to convey that she thought I was stupid for doing so – but hopefully I could put the duo at least slightly at ease.
It took less than ten minutes for the first police car to arrive, and they immediately took our statements. A few minutes later, Shadow Stalker and I were back on our way just when a van for prisoner transport turned the corner.
"Not bad for a rookie hero," Shadow Stalker said.
"One of my friends knows a heroic cape," I responded. "Got a lot of good advice that way."
"Skirting the unwritten rules, huh?" she questioned.
"Never said she shared the identity of the cape with me," I said. "And besides, she's a cape herself, although a new one, just like me. Administrator, is what she decided to call herself."
Shadow Stalker scoffed. "Seriously? Could that name be any more lame?"
"Don't underestimate her," I said. "She has quite a potent Thinker power. Although I will admit that her combat value is close to zero. But then, a good cape organization needs both."
"Not joining anyone already out there?" she asked.
"I don't do well under someone else's orders," I said. "It's inherent to my powers. I wish the Protectorate and Wards all the best, and I hope to be on good terms with all of you, but I won't be joining. Same with New Wave."
Shadow Stalker grunted. "I can respect that. Trust me, the freedom is worth it."
"You're a Ward," I pointed out.
"Because they threatened me over a few injured fucking skinheads," she spat. "Claimed I used excessive violence. As if that scum doesn't deserve excessive violence."
"No one deserves excessive violence," I parried, unwilling to let that one go. "We're a civilized society, we have prisons for those people. And people who want to be violent can go find themselves a gym with a punching bag."
She scoffed, but I talked over her before she could argue against me.
"I've been at the receiving end of a ton of undeserved excessive violence, Shadow Stalker. That's what caused my fucking trigger. If violence is needed, I'll use it, but praising violence is not a healthy behavior and you will harm innocent people if you do that."
"Whoa whoa, sorry, didn't mean to push your trigger, okay?" she responded defensively, although her heart didn't seem to be in the apology.
"It's fine," I said. This was, I felt, a bit of a crossroads in terms of my future recruitment efforts of the girl, and thankfully my power came to my aid. "Look, I want to get rid of the Empire and the ABB and all the others as much as you, okay? But if you just maim skinheads left and right it becomes piss easy for them to paint you like a bastard cop who's just in it to satisfy their own sadism. Even if that's not true. And then they get sympathy while you get hatred. So let's not give them the opportunity. Just capture them with minimal violence and lock them up, that way you look good and they look bad."
Shadow Stalker scoffed. "Yay, people like me. What does that get me?"
That was an open goal if I'd ever seen one. "People will be more willing to tattle on E88 activities. People will be less likely to join the E88. People will be less likely to protect the E88. People will be more likely to resist E88 schemes. And so on."
"I doubt that's gonna do anything."
"Okay, let's turn things around. What do you get from using excessive violence?"
Shadow Stalker remained silent.
"Nothing at all," I concluded. "So you might as well take your chances, right? Anyway, let's not allow our disagreement to make us forget that we did get some of the assholes off the street tonight. I'm not sure about you, but I'm happy with how the patrol went. At least, I'm thinking of going home now. I don't know if you are."
"Yeah, sure," she responded dismissively. "I'll just finish the last few blocks, doubt there'll be anything going on this late though."
"See you another time, then," I said before flying off towards Emma's home. She would want to know how things went, and I'd have to go through a few things that she might want to bring up with Sophia if she saw the opportunity to play off of what we'd talked about on the patrol.