Flood 2.2
Ten minutes into the briefing, and I already felt like falling back asleep.
Armsmaster droned on about patrol routes, about the latest sightings of the Nine, reminding everyone to have wills updated and on file with HR. Obviously nothing I had to worry about, and yet if I slept in I'd have Mr. Knockoff T-1000 on my ass like bus seat bubble gum.
So I sat, the only one in civilian clothes while the rest of the heroes were suited up and ready to die.
"...and Clockblocker, you know your assignment…"
"Yup."
"Moving on, one of the PRT squads wants…"
Aaaaand back to being bored.
Eventually, everyone stood up around me, quiet murmurs as they filed out of the room. Everyone except Armsmaster, who was giving me some sort of 'disappointed father' look.
"How are you holding up, Dennis." Not even enough inflection to hint at it being a question.
"I'm fine," I said flatly, barely lifting my head up.
"Dennis."
Can't just let a lie go can you?
"Okay. I'm pissed off that I can
help and I'm stuck here on babysitting duty watching my teammates put their lives on the line. I should be out there."
"It's for your—"
"Dude!" I cut him off. "You asked me how I'm 'holding up'. I answered you. I don't need another fucking lecture on how I shouldn't feel how I feel. I get you have your reasons for not wanting me out there. I just think it's bullshit."
Armsmaster was quiet, looking at me. There was a second's pause before he took his helmet off, setting it down with a
clunk on the conference room table.
"Dennis, can I talk to you, man to man?" There was a question there, which maybe I would have appreciated if I wasn't internally retching at being called a 'man'. He took my lack of response as assent, and continued, "I know you don't want to talk about this, but
please. We're all worried about you."
I sighed. "There's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."
"Promise me you'll at least hear me out. If you hear what I have to say and still disagree, I'll personally clear you for duty."
Just smile and nod, and finally be able to do something? "Fine."
"Director Piggot got an email yesterday, from a PRT officer in Oregon." Fuck. Of-fucking-course. "She claims to be your aunt?"
"She shouldn't know I'm a cape," I replied, weakly.
"I don't believe she does. The email was regarding an emergency transfer request, to look for you. Dennis, I understand you're grieving and everyone grieves in their own way. However, I strongly suggest you get in contact with your aunt before she flies into the midst of an S-Class threat looking for you."
Jesus.
Armsmaster cleared his throat, eyes darting to the doorway before back to me. "If there's something going on you want to talk about…"
"I don't need a shrink," I said, not missing the way his eyes had darted to the doorway before returning to me. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."
"I'm not suggesting a therapist. I'm offering you an ear. You don't need to bottle things up. It's clear something's been bothering you, even before the attack." I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to say to that? "Please… we've already lost so many, I don't want to add your name to that. Whatever's going on, I'll make sure you get help."
There was an odd tone in his voice, there. A voice that took me back, to the moments after I'd triggered. After the chaos had died down in the doctor's office, and Dad had come in. I couldn't describe the tone, but it felt the same.
Was it safe to tell Armsmaster?
My thoughts went back to the kid I'd read about online, who'd been sent off for coming out.
"It stays between us?" I asked, a lump in my throat.
"If you want, yes."
"I…" How could I word it, without seeming weird? Without coming across as a weirdo or something? "I don't… I'm not…"
"Dennis…" Armsmaster's voice tried to be soothing but failed.
The words came out before I could stop them, "Don't call me that. I'm not… I don't want to be Dennis."
I could feel him looking at me, but my gaze was fixed to the conference room table. I had to stop myself from Clockblocking myself, and keep talking, "I'm not… I don't think I'm, um, a boy, I mean."
The silence in the room was deafening.
"Okay," Armsmaster said finally. He sounded disappointed? Of course he'd be disappointed. Not like we had bigger things going on, and here he was dealing with… with this.
"Sorry," I mumbled, blinking away tears that appeared for some reason. Maybe I could… Was it too late? I could just say
haha got you nerd! and backtrack. What a Clockblocker move. I was about to do just that, or maybe vomit, when Armsmaster spoke again.
"Do you have a name you'd prefer?"
"I don't know," I said, trying not to sniffle like a little kid. Why was this so hard? "Still figuring… it out."
"That's okay." That weird tone was back in his voice, but now it just made me feel worse. Reminded me of Dad, and he wasn't… he was
Armsmaster for fuck's sake. "How about I just call you Clock?"
After a second, I shrugged.
"I'll take that as a yes for now." He paused to clear his throat. "I'm not an expert on this."
"That makes two of us," I said, giving him one of those
it's not funny but I'm gonna laugh laughs.
"Can you give me some time to do some research so I can help?"
Wow, he actually wants to help?
I wiped ineffectually at my face before looking up at him. "Just don't go to PHO for it," I quipped, cracking a little smile.
"I'm aware of the… content on Parahumans Online," he replied, and without his helmet on I could see his eyes shift into a thousand-yard stare. For a moment, I was fairly certain we were on the same page. The infamous profile page of the user who'd spent several thousand dollars on fanarts of "Armsmistress" complete with her, um, 'Halberd.' Then Armsmaster cleared his throat and grabbed his helmet, and the moment thankfully passed. "If anybody gives you trouble, speak to the Youth Guard and I'll back you up," he said—no,
commanded. I thought back to Assault in the cafeteria the other day.
"Okay," I said weakly, and with that he was gone.
Of all the people I'd expected to come out to first, Armsmaster was far from the top of the list. He wasn't even on the first page of the list, and I wasn't sure I knew more than a page of people right now. But it had gone well? Maybe? I'd always thought of him as having maybe a bit of a stick up his ass, but…
But maybe something had changed.
---
I was sitting on my bed, looking up at the ceiling. There was the faint sound of music from the main room; Weld and Necator had decided to bond over their shared interest, but between them all they had was a synth and a violin.
It was an experience, to say the least. Not bad, but…
alien was the best word. Listening through a closed door just made it weirder.
But all listening did was put off the inevitable.
I grabbed my work phone, and punched in the number I'd pulled off the employee directory.
Three rings.
"Sergeant Cooper speaking," the tinny voice on the other side answered. She sounded bored.
"Aunt Laura?"
"Dennis???" she shouted, making me pull the phone back away from my ear.
"Yup that's me."
"Are you safe, are you—"
"I'm fine!" I cut her off. "I'm fine, really." Fine, yup.
"We've been worried sick! Your phone stopped responding, and when we heard about the Nine…"
"I've avoided them so far." My free hand went to my wrist.
Mostly avoided them. "With Shatterbird and everything…"
"Oh honey…" There was a little pause. "Are you… with your folks…"
She trailed off, so I said it for her. "Dead?"
"...I'm sorry Dennis."
"It's fine."
"Is the house okay? Safe?"
"Gutted," I said simply.
"Alright," Aunt Laura replied. "You're staying at the headquarters then, right?"
Uh.
What?
"Headquarters?" I stammered. Fuck. Shit!
"When my brother-in-law calls out of the blue to ask about the Wards 'just out of curiosity', it doesn't take a brain surgeon to piece the clues together. Not to mention your caller ID says 'Wards ENE'."
Well, when you put it like that…
I sighed. "Yeah."
"A belated congratulations, by the way. You pissed off Image departments across the country with your name stunt."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Don't be!" She laughed. "They were
livid, ranting and raving about what they'd do if one of
their Wards pulled a stunt like that. It took all my strength not to gloat that that was my nephew."
Niece, I mentally corrected her.
"Anyway," Aunt Laura continued, her voice growing sober. It was weird from her; she was normally the type of person to never take anything a hundred percent seriously, at least on the surface. "Your uncle and I talked, after we heard what happened, and. Well you're an adult as far as we're concerned so it's your choice, but… Anna's moved off to college so you could steal her room, and there's plenty of space on the Wards team out here."
"Uh…" I hadn't ever really considered it, even though it was obvious when she said it like that. Moving. Mom and Dad were gone, Chris had fucked off to get peeled apart by the Machine Army, and half my team was dead. What was left to tie me here? Some sense of hometown loyalty? Vista and Shadow Stalker? ...Tattletale? Was I digging that low for excuses?
"Just think about it," Aunt Laura said, interrupting my thoughts.
"Maybe. On the first part, I mean. I'll definitely think about it."
"Okay."
There was a second of silence, the awkward silence where I felt like I needed to say something but I didn't know what.
"I gotta go," I finally said. "Patrol, sorry."
"Stay safe, or well. As safe as you can be."
"I will."
"Love you, Dennis."
"You too, Aunt Laura."
---
"There you are!" I half-shouted across the cafeteria.
"Good morning sunshine," Tattletale replied in a saccharine tone. Across the table, Commander Calvert choked on his PRT taco. "You say that like you were looking for me."
"Shadow Stalker said you'd slithered off to the garage. I assumed she was being honest."
"I know you Wards are a few cards short of a full deck," she replied. "But I really shouldn't be the one to tell you that's not on me."
"You need to let me know if you're running off somewhere. I'm supposed to be babysitting you."
Commander Calvert cleared his throat at that. "Tattletale has been working on a project for us in Operations." There was a little pause there. "Someone should have told you, my apologies."
For fucks sake. I got that resources were tight, but how did half the fucking PRT neglect to pass that along? Whatever. "Listen, it's fine," I finally said. "Just in the future could I get a heads-up?"
"Of course. In any case, I should be going. Stay safe, young man."
Young man? I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be more pissed off by there, and unfortunately by the time I'd given up, he was already gone, leaving a… surprisingly-conflicted looking Tattletale holding half a PRT taco.
"Wow," I said, a smile I didn't really feel crossing my face. "Tattletale, Operations Bureau bootlicker."
"You told Ar—"
"Working for King Big Dick of Hot Shit Mountain himself, Commander Thomas Calvert."
"Clock—"
"So what, he's got you doing some double-oh seven shit?"
"Actually shut the fuck up," she finally got out, slamming her taco onto her tray.
Uh what? Had I hit a sore spot? "Yeesh, I'm just—"
"Shit like this is why he left you, just FYI!" she shouted at me, before storming out of the cafeteria.
What the actual fuck?
What the hell had I said to deserve that? She fucking dished out insults left and right, and her skin was so fucking thin that she blew up after the smallest little tease?
I could feel the eyes of the entire now-silent cafeteria on me, but it was muted by the realization of what she'd actually said. Was I really so annoying that Chris had left? That he'd rather deal with the Machine Army than his "best friend" messing around?
"Fuck," I said to myself, not sure what to do.
"Living up to the name kid!" one of the PRT officers called out, barely containing his snickering. "Better luck next time, tiger!"
I bit my tongue, ignoring the laughter. As much as I wanted to say something back… nothing was even coming to mind, much less something I wouldn't immediately regret. Instead, I spun around and walked away, ignoring the blistering heat in my face. Fuck him, fuck her, fuck Chris for leaving. Fuck me for making him leave.
Somehow, I held it in long enough to make it to my room.
Fuck this.
---
Thanks to Kittius, Jessica_T, Kippos, Paige, and Lira for betaing and editing help
