I stared at Skitter. She couldn't possibly have just said what I thought she said. Me? Fly her back to the base?
Now?
"
Explain," I signed shakily, my fingers tense as I forced them into the still unfamiliar 'F' shape.
"We're out of options," Skitter said. "I need medical attention back in my territory to get this out, and I can't be sure how long I'll stay conscious." Raw terror spiked at the thought of her leaving me to deal with this alone, but she plowed ahead before I could react. "We can't afford to let Ballistic catch wind of our presence, or the whole trip was for nothing. That means walking is out. I can't keep us from being seen if I pass out halfway. All that leaves is flying, and I left Atlas behind so that he wouldn't get noticed on our way in."
That – that didn't address my actual concern! I understood
why Skitter was asking me to do this; I'd come to the same conclusions already. She was right. The problem was me. I hadn't flown any real distance since I'd woken up in that bathtub. I knew I still could, but I hadn't actually tested it past the technicalities. For all I knew my sense of speed would be way off and I'd crater us into a building. Or I might have some obscure new condition or time limit that could blindside us. My aura couldn't be counted on, which meant that every other aspect of my powerset was untrustworthy until proven otherwise. And now Skitter wanted to bet her life on it?
"
No," I signed emphatically, before bringing up my notebook to explain further. "
Too many risks. Not sure of power"
Skitter nodded slowly. "I'd thought of that. Unfortunately, we don't have a choice. This isn't going to keep forever, and the longer we stay the more at risk we are of someone seeing us or the mess Flechette left behind."
I glared at her. This was supposed to be a low stakes mission! Why did every outing I had with Skitter end in disaster? I mean, I guess I'd answered my own question there; it was Skitter. But that didn't leave us any closer to a solution.
I closed my eyes and tried to break the situation down. If I thought of it like a math problem, the gnawing panic rising in my stomach wouldn't take over. What were the variables we needed to solve for? Skitter had mentioned them earlier. No more damage to her shoulder, we needed to be back in her territory for medical care, and we couldn't be seen doing it. Could I address those?
I remembered flying to and from Arcadia. A lot of that was in public, yes, but some was covert too. When I needed to catch some air and walking around wouldn't cut it. When I had a bad hair day and didn't want the attention that Glory Girl brought. When I wanted to meet… Dean… and Mom wouldn't let me go so I snuck out anyways.
My eyes grew wet, and I tried to hold back a sniffle. God, I didn't have time for this right now! I tried not to look at Skitter as I took a deep breath. She said nothing, breathing in slow, ragged inhales and exhales that I caught myself instinctively trying to match.
Okay, no. Couldn't think about any of that. Second problem: damage to her shoulder. Could I carry her back? I wanted to answer yes without even considering it, but I forced myself to think the question through. My strength was working, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to break her out of the wall. While I hadn't done it lately, New Wave had gone over procedures on evacuating and carrying wounded civilians without hurting them. Especially as a Brute, I'd needed them at first. Yes, I decided. I could get her back to her base without hurting her any worse than she already was.
Which just left stealth. Could I get us out of Ballistic's territory without him finding out? Ultimately, that came down to a few things. Going high enough to be out of eyesight, while staying slow enough not to jostle the bolt or risk dropping her. I'd done that before, when Amy hadn't wanted to be seen coming to school and I'd had to drop her off further away—
I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my fists. How many times had I carried her? She'd always acted reluctant, like it was something I was forcing on her. I'd felt bad about it so many times. Was it all a ruse from the start? How many times could she have reached out and
changed me that whole time, without me even knowing? H-how did I know she
hadn't?
My breaths came short and fast and shallow as something hot and spiky formed in my chest. A sharp noise jolted me out of it, and I looked up. Skitter was snapping at me with her left hand— her
left hand! Flechette had left a crossbow bolt in that arm not ten minutes ago! That more than anything else shocked me out of my spiral. I actually got as far as opening my mouth in outrage before the rant I wanted to let loose got clogged in my throat.
"Victoria," Skitter asked fiercely. "Pay attention. Can you do it?"
Shaking from stress and fear and unwanted memories, I shook my head. Skitter cocked her head, almost birdlike. If my refusal worried her, she did a good job keeping it from her body language, but I heard a faint buzzing whine on the edge of my hearing tick upward.
"Why not?"
"
Carried Amy. Worried about flashback. Drop you" My hands were shaking so badly the words were almost illegible, but at least the pen didn't explode this time.
Skitter hissed through her teeth. "I'd thought of that, yes. It's not the ideal solution."
I had to snort at that. No, the ideal solution would've been for none of this to have happened. For me to not even be here. But we worked with what we had. There was a moment of silence as I tried to figure out what to do. If flying was out, that only left one of the options we'd already ruled out. Maybe we were missing something…
"I think you should try," Skitter said, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"
Can't"
"You can," she said, her eyes not leaving mine. "I know you can. She's not here with you now. I am. You can do this. It's your power, it does what you tell it to do. You didn't know about your aura before, but you stopped it coming out tonight. You didn't even need the phone. You can do this."
It felt hard to breathe. "
What if I mess up?"
Skitter didn't hesitate for a moment. "Then you'll catch me."
She said that as if it was obvious. As if it was the simplest thing in the world for me to break myself out of a flashback, catch her before she got to the ground, somehow avoid any other damage – I shook my head. Impossible. I couldn't trust myself like this. It was too risky, there were too many variables, too many failure conditions. I wasn't
reliable—
"I trust you."
I froze, slowly looking up at the villain facing me. I'm not sure what her expression was under the mask, but she didn't retract her words or show the slightest hint of doubt. I stared. Swallowed.
That was what this was all about in the end then, wasn't it? Trust. I'd given Skitter a chance when I came here with her, and she'd held up her end. Wasn't it my turn to do the same?
I winced as we stepped outside into the harsh sunlight. The cloud cover had cleared somewhat since we'd entered, and the clear blue skies of summer could be seen through the gaps. That was good. It was hell to navigate the city without GPS, and I'd have my hands full with Skitter. With her handicapped at the moment, I couldn't rely on her to manage the cell phone either. So the more natural light, the better.
A noise from behind me drew my attention to the villain as she passed through the doorway. I frowned as I took in the dark stain slowly spreading from her shoulder. I didn't like that. At least I knew it hadn't hit a major artery, or she'd have already— well, this would've been unsalvageable.
"How do we do this?" Skitter asked. "I've never been flown while injured like this before."
I grimaced as I considered the question myself. Contrary to popular belief, the princess carry wasn't the most aerodynamic or efficient way to carry someone. Over the shoulder (or preferably carried on the back) tended to be best for speed and convenience. But we weren't going for either of those. We needed stealth, and stability. And the only hold that would allow for that was from the front, otherwise that bolt would be jostling the whole way back and this would all be pointless.
"
Under the knees and back. Front carry, left shoulder facing out"
Skitter nodded. "Makes sense. Anything you need?"
I considered that. "
If you need to call or communicate, get what you need now. Hard to land and not hurt your shoulder. Have to go slow. Can't sign or write"
"Good point," she said, pulling out the phone from her back pocket. "I had some calls to make anyways."
I forced myself not to stare. People had weird coping mechanisms. If Skitter's was making work calls while trying to pretend she hadn't been impaled, I wouldn't judge.
The thought brought back that awful image of how she'd looked with the bolt still in the wall. Like one of her bugs, pinned to a corkboard by some sick collector. The absurd horror of the comparison almost forced a bark of hysterical laughter out of me and brought tears to my eyes. It shouldn't be funny. It wasn't, at all. But I still had to stifle the terrified giggles before they could clear their way up my throat and choke me.
I had to keep my head. If I let myself freak it over my— my protector being hurt, being vulnerable, I'd laugh until I cried and then cry until I set my aura off. I had to stay in control. Skitter was counting on me.
She raised her right arm, and I stepped closer. Her suit felt smooth as I shifted my hand under her back and legs, slowly bending my knees to shift downwards to pick her up. The fabric was silk, but must have been much more breathable than the normal kind. Otherwise I didn't know how she could stand wearing a full body glove of the stuff on a day this hot.
Skitter groaned as I picked her up. If I wasn't so close to her, I wouldn't have heard it. As it was, her chest was right up against mine, so it was hard for any sound she made to go unnoticed. I tensed. Had I hurt her?
"It's fine," she breathed, her voice soft and strained, her breathing labored. "Just get us going. The faster we're back, the sooner I can have this out."
I nodded, and closed my eyes. The ground was solid and worn beneath my sneakers, the concrete pitted and scarred from countless battles fought and lost. But I didn't need to be tied down to it if I didn't want to. I focused on the feel of Skitter in my arms instead. The bend of her knee on my forearm. Her calf across my hand. It felt a lot harder than I had expected – a runner maybe? It would make sense with her build. The smooth curve of her back on my left arm, broken only by her armor plating. This close, with her weight against me, I could feel just how thin her suit and armor really was. And she felt comfortable facing off against heroes in this? It was hard to believe.
My eyes opened, and we were floating off the ground. I smiled. Perfect. Without a word we drifted into the sky, the ground falling away from us as the wind grew louder in my ears. I stopped at about a thousand feet; high enough to avoid notice but low enough that oxygen and temperature were no concern. Close enough to the city to make out landmarks, too. I didn't usually fly this low when I had my phone to navigate, but needs must right now. I glanced down at Skitter, who was looking at me. Was she okay? I carefully squeezed the hand on her leg, keeping her shoulder as still as possible. I couldn't afford to disturb the bolt by accident.
"I'm fine," Skitter said, answering my unasked question. "Let's get moving. I'll let you know if there's an issue."
I nodded, and we started to move forward. My instincts told me to push, to go fast and hard, the wind flying in my face and the land warping around me. How had I forgotten just how much fun flying was?
Stupid question. I knew how. I shoved away the memories and held my speed.
"B, banana," Skitter said. I looked down and she had her phone out. This was the second time I'd heard her open with a phrase like that. A letter, followed by an object. Usually food related. Some kind of Master Stranger or IFF code maybe? She paused. "The main issue was accomplished, Parian is considering my offer. But Flechette shot me."
Another pause. Would I understand any more if I saw the other side of this conversation? "No, but I'd rather not bother the boss with this when he's so busy getting the rest together. Can you spare a medic?"
I tried not to react to that. The Undersiders had a boss? All the PRT's intel until this point had suggested that they were operating independently, and Skitter's debut had pushed them into a more proactive presence. If that wasn't true… No, focus. This wasn't the time. I could ask later.
"We're over the edge of his territory now, by where the old hangout used to be," Skitter said as we passed the wreckage of the boardwalk. "Okay, tell him to prep for surgery when I'm there. Thanks Tattletale." She closed the phone and set it down on her stomach, idly laying a hand over it to keep it steady.
I looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "We don't have a surgeon in my territory yet," she explained. "I've been requesting supplies, but medical care hasn't been a priority yet. I knew Tattletale had one."
I nodded. I wanted to ask her badly about the rest. About their previous hideout we'd passed over. About her mysterious boss, and how he had the ability to get her a qualified doctor and tools on short notice. Was he bankrolling them? Where
had those supplies come from? But it wasn't the time, or the place. And even if it was, I literally couldn't. My hands were full.
Skitter grunted and shifted slightly in my grip. I let out a gasp and forced myself not to drop her as her hair seemed to come alive. A few dozen bugs – flies maybe? – flew out of her hair, making an arrow in front of us. I tried not to react. Yeah it was gross but… I'd felt worse in the past week. This was manageable.
I looked in the direction of the arrow and sure enough, we were coming up on her residence. Skitter took the opportunity to open the phone again. "Sierra, it's me. Tell Charlotte she needs to open the door to the roof access, we're coming in through the top. And clear a table with a clean sheet in my room. It'll have to do. Thanks."
We closed in on the roof, and I could see the door open to the stairs. Charlotte stepped out, waving at us. I glanced down at Skitter, and squeezed her leg once.
She nodded. "Set me down. Carefully."
I finally landed on the roof, and slowly started to transfer Skitter to her feet. It would've been better for me to take her directly to the table where we were going to do this… but I could respect that she didn't want me to do that in front of her people. She let out a low groan as I gently took her weight off me.
Charlotte shot me a glare before giving her boss a worried look.
"Okay," Skitter said, swaying in place slightly. Was there a slight slur in her voice, or was I imagining it? Charlotte glanced at me again, worried. Maybe she'd heard it too. "I need to get this fixed," Skitter continued, steadying herself on me with her good arm and then pulling away immediately like it would stop Charlotte from having seen it. The touch sunk into my skin like sunburn, somehow different from the necessity of carrying her here. Charlotte was here now. Skitter had other options for support. But she'd leant on me.
"You need to get downstairs, and you're going to have to pass through my room to do it," she said. "This is an emergency, so it's fine. But don't take this as permission to come in whenever, okay?"
I nodded. That was more than fair, and it wasn't like we had any other options.
I had to help her again as we went downstairs from the roof, and tried not to look around too much as we entered her room. It was surprisingly… spartan. Or maybe it wasn't surprising? Honestly it was hard to know what to expect from Skitter sometimes. Maybe she expressed most of her personality in the bugs on the second level. Regardless, I kept my shoulder under her right arm until we got to the bed that Charlotte had prepped, then gently eased her down to sit on the edge.
"Victoria." Her voice stopped me as I made to leave, and I turned to look at her. She seemed fragile, sitting there with the metal bolt still stuck clean through her. But at the same time, so strong.
"Thank you." Her voice was soft.
I nodded, not letting myself look back again as I closed the door to the third level and slid down it to sit on the floor, knees pulled up to my chest. I slowly leaned back, my head in my hands. God, what a fucking mess. A simple outreach mission, gone horribly wrong. I didn't even know if my presence had helped or hurt. Had I just limited Skitter's ability to manage the situation? Why was I even thinking like that, backing the Villain against a local Ward? It all felt so… wrong.
I picked up my phone and slowly scrolled through the contacts list. I knew that Skitter had trusted me with this, and I wanted to honor that trust. I really did. But I also had to find some answers myself. Hopefully she'd understand that.
A gentle chuckle escaped me when I found the one I'd been looking for. Huh, she really hadn't thrown this one away then. Budget cuts maybe? Either way, that would make this slightly easier. I opened a text, and started typing.
"
Mom. This is Victoria. I want to meet you. Alone."
A/N:
This chapter is brought to you by showing up for your 8 am, realizing the class was canceled a week ago, and taking a nap on the couch in a staff room instead. Definitely not giving myself neck problems in the future I'm sure. Also Aleph continues to be the coauthor unless she can prove me wrong.
So you might have noticed by this point that I'm arranging this arc by individual "options" Victoria has for where to go. The first was the Protectorate. The second was a combination of Independents and the Wards, with Parian and Flechette respectively. And next comes what everyone has been wondering about but hasn't mentioned in a surprisingly long time.
Carol. I'm sure that'll go well-lmao I can't even finish that sentence. You'll see next week.
Today's rec is
Memoirs which is cowritten by Chartic and k800. A fantastic post GM cross with WB's current masterpiece Pale (which you owe to yourself to read if you have the time for something twice Worm's length and counting). Excellent characterization, a view into an older Taylor than most post GM fics feature, and a Chartic fic that actually updates. What more could you want? Go read it.
