Bite 3.7
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Bite 3.7
By the time I was jogging towards Rachel, I realized how crazy this was. I had just run away from home. I'd run away from home when I hadn't even thought about it before today. Sure, I could tell myself that it'd been building up, some sort of confrontation, but Dad hadn't raged and stormed and done anything to justify me running away from him. In the traditional sense.
It'd almost be easier if he had.
Instead, he'd forbidden me, in a calm tone, from seeing Rachel. I didn't know where I'd be without her, and I knew that it was sentimental and mad and all sorts of other things to think that way. As if I owed her my life. That was how I felt, though, and I should have been consumed with regrets.
Instead, I was just filled with doubts. But I knew there was room for me at Rachel's.
Rachel, who stood there, watching as I jogged up, exhausted and nervous and imagining how much I'd hurt Dad. I hadn't want to, but… but. What was I supposed to do? What was anyone supposed to do?
What I did know was that Rachel hadn't even hesitated. When I'd told her what I needed, to stay with her, she had accepted it. She hadn't wrung her hands and talked about maybe if I behaved she'd let me see her again in a week. She hadn't jumped straight from 'bullying for years' to 'But why did you punch her?'
Not acceptable? Maybe, but why the fuck did I need to hear that first thing? Why not any of the thousand other problems that I had right now that had nothing to do with me lashing out once at the trio, and everything to do with a broken school, and a broken world.
Against all of that, the fact that Rachel made me feel special and even… not pretty? But attractive, to her at least. And the way she listened to me?
Dad was not willing to help anything, and his only advice was to hurt things even more in the name of some sort of crackdown.
I looked into her eyes when she saw me, and I saw it again. Reflected there. Warmth, desire, concern for me that wasn't rooted in the same feeling every time I felt it that I was letting her down, or that she had let me down.
"Taylor," Rachel said, and she did me the great favor of not asking if I was okay, but just stepping forward and quickly wrapping her arms around me.
It was a brief hug, but I leaned into it, and realized I was tearing up badly. The world blurred, and I buried my head in her neck for a moment as she began stroking my hair and patting my back. "S-sorry, I just…"
I didn't feel sorry, but you were supposed to--
"Why the fuck are you sorry?" Rachel let out a bitter laugh. "Just come on. I have… I dunno. I bought chocolate if you want it."
"I would," I said.
"An' ice-cream and shit. I dunno. Lisa said that you might…"
She'd asked Lisa? Man, she must have really been desperate to have gone to those sorts of lengths to help me. "She gave advice?" I asked. "What did you tell her?"
"Just that you were upset," Rachel said. "I'd never tell her personal shit."
"Oh, good," I said, taking a breath. "Wait, how do you have ice-cream?"
"Bought a freezer."
Oh, of course. I assumed she meant some sort of little freezer, though that did bring up the question where she got power for it. Did she buy a generator as well? Just how much was she spending on me?
Now wasn't the time to worry about that. "Got it. Thanks." I hugged her for a moment more, and then went off with her. We were jogging, but we could have walked. Dad wasn't chasing me down, or if he was, he wasn't looking the right way.
I imagined how hurt he had to be, and I knew that I'd have to… well. I'd have to figure all of this out later. For the moment, my guilt was overwhelmed by my relief, and when we finally got close to what I thought of as her place, the dogs started barking.
Some things were always the same.
It was nine or so, and that meant it was probably time to sleep, but I knew the dogs would want to see me, and I nodded as she opened the door and I stumbled in, walking down the hallway and opening it up.
To a flood of canines.
*******
"Aww, that's a good girl, Angelica. Roll over, please," I said. "So I can scratch your belly more." I smiled, amid a pile of dogs. The chocolate was in another room, since it was bad for dogs, but honestly the canines were a pretty good start when it came to cheering me up. They were always so happy to see me, especially if Rachel gave me a few treats, and they were warm and slobbery and…
Well, I'd always had something of a soft spot for dogs, and that spot had only grown. So I spent a while with them, though it occurred to me that if I was staying with her long-term I'd have to figure out how to bathe. There was a lot I had to figure out, I thought, as I got my bugs spread out over the three or four blocks that my range spread out over.
I wasn't really prepared for it. But right now, it didn't feel like it was going to crash down on me.
I knew that given time, the fact that Rachel lived mostly according to the sun--for instance, it was dark now, and she had no lights--and that there wasn't a shower, and other things… they'd matter.
Right now, though?
Snuffling doggy noses and treats.
********
It was about ten when I stumbled into bed, and Rachel stumbled after me. I was about to get into bed fully clothed when she asked, "Won't your clothes get messed up?"
I doubted she cared, and of course, she'd seen me rather less dressed than in… oh, I'd have to find my pack and grab pajamas that I'd brought…
You know what? I thought to myself, stripping down to bra and panties. I could find it tomorrow. Tonight? I was just tired.
I snuggled into the blankets, and Rachel came in after me, and when I stared up at the ceiling, or rather the floor to the unfinished second level, it felt almost right.
*******
We woke up in a tangle of morning obligations and awkward rushes to the bathroom. I had to brush my teeth, and change into new clothes, and that meant I'd need to find a laundromat or something like that before too long. Then of course, I wanted to at least wash my face and get some of my body wet, even if it wasn't really going to count for showers.
There were the dogs as well. As usual, I helped clean out the crates and pour their food and get their water, and they didn't seem surprised to see me, though they were still excited, most of them. Dogs had personalities just like humans did, but they were also trained. I remembered the way I'd ordered them around, and that made me wonder, in an idle sort of way, what they saw when they looked at me.
Or what they thought, for that matter.
We feasted on dry cereal for breakfast, and yes, it turned out that she had bought a little hand-crank generator, the sort that they often sold to people 'in case of Endbringer'. Or rather, for the aftermath of such an attack. Which was optimistic, in a way, considering just how dangerous one of those was. But it meant that all she had to do was crank it for a while each day, and it'd store up power to keep the freezer running. It was a lot of work, but I wasn't exactly full of great ideas, was I?
"Hey, can I play that one game?" Rachel asked.
"Sure, I did bring it along," I said. It was about ten, and the day had gone slowly. But I figured, soon enough, I could start figuring out what to do. I had the bugs to deal with, get them in mason jars or the like, and then I had a whole host of things to go out and buy.
I'd have to be careful not to be seen by Dad, so I was thinking I'd go to some out of the way, run-down store. There was a Dollar Colonel a few blocks away that probably had plenty to sell.
I fished out the game-system and handed it to her, and she started playing, sitting on the pallet, keeping an eye out for the dogs. She'd no doubt get bored at some point and wander back over to take care of the dogs.
If I wasn't in OSS, I'd be at school right now, and I expected to feel an outpouring of absolute guilt about this.
But I didn't, not really, and it was nice just being here with her, watching her play and get frustrated and then angry and then happy again at some silly game with lasers that relied in reflexes that I really didn't have.
It was getting towards noon when my mind finally returned to the fact that I had plans to make, and a schedule to keep.
********
"Hey Rachel," I said.
"What?" she asked, as she looked over the dogs.
"I'm going to go out for a bit. Grab some food for the pantry, and maybe… whatever else I need. Is it okay if I take the money? I know you said yes, but--"
"Yes."
"So you say yes again," I said. "Well, that works. Though we do have to think of a way to budget all of this."
"You can do that," Rachel said, and I knew that she wasn't exactly the budgeting type.
"I can. Though we have a lot to figure out. Like the bugs thing. And what were you thinking with the…"
"Wanna go on patrols or whatever together?" Rachel asked. She said it slightly fast, as if she wanted to throw it out there before I had time to change the subject.
"Does that mean you're at 'no' for the Undersiders thing?" I asked. "For sure?"
"Prolly. So we patrol and see what we find? Or did you have some kinda plan?"
"I did, actually," I admitted. "Going after the Merchants as soon as I could. With your help, it could be very soon."
Rachel looked at me in that way that always told me that if she was the grinning type, she'd be grinning. Instead, it was just an intent look in her eyes. "Fucking Merchants."
"Well put," I said. "Is there anything else you know or would want to do? Have they set up a new dog-fighting ring, or anything like that?"
"I dunno. No clue if they did," Rachel said. She glanced over at the dogs, and I could imagine her imagining more. For her, there was no such thing as too many dogs. One day when she was older, she might qualify as some sort of crazy dog lady.
Not that she was crazy. But she was pretty into dogs. "Well, if they did, we'd need to get a bigger place," I said. Then I frowned, thinking. "You know, if you were on the up-and-up, I mean, if everyone saw you as a hero, you could work with the local dog shelter?"
"Was gonna do that," Rachel said. "Volunteered at local shelters. Then someone came, talked about a team and safety for my dogs and a whole lot of…" she gestured around at the building. "This."
"So you joined up," I said. It did make sense, really, but it was also something that could change. If she joined because of practical reasons, she could leave because of practical reasons.
I hoped it was that simple, because simple could be good.
"Yes," she said, looking as if she expected me to say something about that. It was the stubborn look on her face. We hadn't really gotten into any arguments, but I could imagine that she was not the sort to ever give up. Like a dog with a bone was a saying that occurred to me, for some mysterious reason.
"So, moving forward, if you worked at a shelter, and maybe people knew about it, maybe they'd be willing to donate. Or if you ran one." I frowned. "People donate more to people for less. It's very hit and miss, honestly, but dogs." I shrugged. I'd said before how crazy people could get at dogs, and it was still true now as it was then. It'd always be true.
So I knew I was being repetitive. Repeatedly.
"Maybe," Rachel said. The second time she seemed to be listening more, thinking about it, and I leaned towards her, not wanting to interrupt her, but fascinated by the look of concentration on her face. It reminded me of other looks, at other times, and that meant that I was red-faced and distracted.
"W-well, we'll figure it out together, right? While I'm gone, feel free to play the games or look at the books. I'll be back as soon as I can. And I'll try to keep out of the way of Dad. Or anything that might lead me to go back."
Rachel nodded, looking at me with a look that promised far more trust than I would have expected. She didn't even doubt me, that I'd come back, and that I'd stay back. Maybe I could ask her: maybe I should ask her.
'Rachel, will you go on a date with me?' It was the clear next move. If anything, it was a move I should have asked a long time before now.
Instead, I'd dithered and was still doing so. I should ask. Very, very soon.
Maybe in a few days, once we were settled down.
"Got it," she said.
"I'll make sure to write down what I take, and I can get you the receipts, too."
"Thanks," Rachel said, flatly.
*******
It was odd, shopping with someone else's money. It was this feeling of responsibility that I couldn't really have expected. I sorta got how married people got into clipping coupons and the like. Even if it's the money of both people, there's a definite feeling that you don't want to be wasteful and throw it all down the drain.
I bought clothes, but in order to miss Dad, I made sure that they were used clothes, and I got pop-tarts and cereal and as many things that could be eaten dry and cold as possible. Ice-cream would have to run into the problem of carrying it all, and even the clothes and the one bag of groceries were going to really weigh me down.
So I had to do it in stages. could I have asked for Lisa's help? Yes. But instead, I went back, showing Rachel the clothes and then swinging around to buy a few more toiletry kind of things, as well as a flashlight. That'd be useful, certainly. I wasn't sure what else I needed, and I stood around a little, thinking about what I could use.
Oh, maybe a water bottle? I could reuse it, and that would help me keep hydrated. Then, when that idea came, another few things occurred to me. Headache medicine could help, at least enough that I should have it on me. It'd definitely pay off if either of us was injured, since neither of us had insurance, nor honestly any desire to use a hospital.
It was rough, being a villain, because you needed to find excuses for being roughed up. It was possible, sure, but that didn't mean there weren't complications. For instance, a bruise was far easier explained than a bullet wound, which you'd have to find some sort of bribable doctor to deal with. Or someone who knew first aid.
I could… ah. I could get a first aid kit, of some kind. Even if all it had were basic things, I decided to add it to the list.
I spent a lot of time shopping, and a lot of time listening, which convinced me that I needed to buy a notebook or three. I didn't write while I walked, but I tried to remember snippets of conversation and the like, and put it all together in my head, testing out what I could do with my bugs.
The truth was, by the time I got back to Rachel's the second time, I had even more ideas for things I could buy, but I'd also burned through the self-imposed budget I'd set, and so I just stepped in and saw that Rachel was outside, playing with the dogs.
"Hey!" she called out, nodding at me as she started to move towards the food. The dogs realized, and I worked on getting it open.
It was a free-for-all, but eventually the dogs were fed, and I babbled a little. "So I was thinking, we could maybe get more stuff, if we found a way to… do something with the generator? We should be able to figure something out. But that's for later. Right now, we have some options. Do you wanna go out to get something? Or we can eat pop-tarts and cereal and of course I also got some granola, that kind of thing. I could have brought fruit, do you like fruit? I didn't know what kind of fruit you liked. I'm not sure, but if you made a list of foods you liked and didn't like, I could deal with that. Though I can't really cook anything but I do known how to cook and maybe I could teach you if we ever got in front of a burner. That way we can share something, and it's not like my tastes--"
Rachel listened to all of it. I could tell because her head turned to face me, and she nodded, and after a moment frowning she said. "I like apples. And meat. Chicken's better than pig, but either's fine. Don't like spicy stuff."
"Well, that helps," I said, nodding briskly as Rachel turned to keep one of the dogs from snapping at the other for food. "And dinner?"
"Maybe stay here?" Rachel suggested with a shrug, and an odd expression. "Cheaper. An' we can play games. Or fetch." She gestured to a stick she'd put out of the way for that purpose. "Tire them out for bed early."
For… oh. Oh! Oh.
Right. Yes. I nodded, deciding that this was a good plan and perhaps I'd underestimated her strategic genius. "Why not?"
Why not indeed? It was my evening… no our evening, and we could do what we want, go to bed when we wanted…
So I played video games and snuggled up to Rachel, and then threw fetch as it started to get darker, but not nearly so dark that the dogs couldn't find the stick, until at last it was dark. I'd begun to put some of my bugs away in jars or containers, and they sat there, under my command, though when I went to sleep, that'd be something.
Fireflies buzzed about as we made our way to bed, and in a playful, silly gesture, I had a few of them buzz overhead in the dark, when body met body and I ended my first day of living with Rachel.
********
It took time to get into a routine. But it was possible. She got up first, and went to go to the bathroom, and then I got up, later than her by a little, but not that much, and did my own business. It wasn't quite yet time for my period, and I didn't have a shower or bath to fiddle with, and so I wasn't behind her any when I tripped out the door to feed the dogs.
The dogs came first, I understood that with Rachel, and only once they'd all eaten was I able to have honey cheerios and cocoa puffs and a cinnamon sugar pop-tart.
It was probably not the breakfast of champions, but it tasted good, and I decided that if I was going to eat like that, I needed to go out jogging. I was pretty sure that they were going to be hunting for me.
I admit that I hadn't expected what Dad had wound up doing, but I was pretty sure he didn't want to call the cops on me, and besides that, at least at the moment, the school won't even know. At least, not if he didn't tell them.
So I went for a run. Halfway through, sweating and tired, I realized that I didn't have a shower, and that this was probably a big problem, but I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do about it, so I just sucked up that gross, sweaty feeling and got home for lunch, which was something we'd need to go out for, unless I wanted to subsist on Rachel's jerky.
Or cereal. I could, but I didn't want to.
Rachel didn't comment on how I smelled, but I knew she had to notice, and what was I supposed to do? I changed into another outfit, similarly simple and a bit run-down, but I'd also have to get them to a laundromat I'd passed on the way jogging back here.
That'd be a little more money thrown down the drain, and with nothing to show for it so far except for temporary comfort.
Lacking an actual apartment and an actual income stream, especially if Rachel quit, meant that I needed to be thinking these things through sooner rather than later.
Perhaps I should get online, and send out a few feelers. I admit that right now it felt good just going through my day, as if all the little annoyances were okay since I was sharing them with her. And I did talk about the shower problem with her, and she nodded along and listened, though she didn't have any easy ideas.
Then I had some time to try to help her with the writing. I'd ask her to spell a word, and then I'd help her with what she got wrong, and try to break it down, and then have her practice writing the letters.
Brutus, not Brootus. Angelica, not Anjelika, Judas not Joodas. It was not hard to get her to know to write that, but then the real difficulty was always going to be smuggling in learning about how it all worked. Because it was easy to see and correct for individual cases, but the rules of grammar and spelling were bizarre and sometimes arcane.
Of course, little steps were what mattered, I thought to myself, as the day wore on towards about when I'd be getting out of school, and I started thinking about asking her out to dinner, and actually saying it was a date.
There was a difference between two friends going out for dinner together and people going out for a date, I knew it. It was… it was how things were done, and so I should just ask her. Maybe she'd even say yes. I knew she wouldn't lie, that was for sure.
I was stewing on these problems when I finally decided to check out my phone, to see if Lisa called me. I'd turned it off, and I wasn't going to respond to Dad--though if Dad knew about this phone, something odd would be going on--but if Lisa had some news or information, it was important to check on that.
What I saw instead was that Greg had been calling me. Again and again. Oh, right. He had to be worried about what had happened to me. He'd sent texts too, each of them more panicked than the last.
'Where R u?'
'What's happening?'
I realized that I had another friend who mattered to me. Sure, not in the same way that Rachel did--if he did, that'd be awkward, for one--but he was still my friend. And I'd left him in the lurch completely, even if I hadn't exactly had much of a choice. If I'd told him ahead of time, he would have had a chance to tell Dad.
But now?
Well.
I dialed him up, noting the time. He should be off of school by now. This could be really painful, or really helpful, and I wasn't sure which one it'd be. Either way, it had to be done. It could be a first step towards talking to Dad. Was there some way I could explain myself without looking crazy?
I didn't want to go back to live with him. Not yet, at least. But if there was some way to talk to him without him siccing the cops on me as a runaway, or something… even though I was a runaway.
The phone rang only once before he answered. "Taylor?! Are you okay? Do you need a rescue? Wait, if you did, would you say you did. Blink once for… wait no, no, um, say potato if you need a rescue, and pota-toh if you don't. What happened? Your Dad called and he said--"
"One question at a time, please," I said. How could someone deal with that, really? Better to ask questions slowly rather than babbling endlessly.
"Are you really Arachne? I mean, I know you are, but are you supposed to say you aren't? Are you a hero? Is it fun? Do you kick ass?"
I let out a deep breath, but the truth was that there was no way that to deny it that didn't look silly. "Why do you suspect that?" I asked.
"Your father called me. Um, he was distraught, and he asked me questions. I, uh, didn't answer anything much, but I could look it up and see that you were Arachne."
"Then fine," I said. "I am. I'm a hero."
"Wait, does that mean that the girl with the dogs is… Hellhound?"
"Bitch," I said, without even thinking. I should have denied it, I thought, my face going red as I was glad he couldn't see me.
"What?" he asked.
"She's called Bitch," I said.
"Um, but that's not a very polite name to, you know--"
"Then call her Rachel. That's also her name." I took a breath. "You didn't tell Dad? He'd only worry."
"I didn't, but he's going to figure out if he looks. I mean, online the news is abuzz about how close the two of you are. There's speculation and everything."
I shook my head, trying not to panic prematurely, "What sort of speculation?"
"That you're teaming up, or fooling the Protectorate, or something," Greg said, vaguely. "I mean, I don't wanna…"
"Well, that's fine then," I said. "Or at least, not unexpected. Dad… well, don't tell him we had this conversation."
"So you're dating… Bitch?"
"I just need to ask her," I said, firmly. "Though really, it's not your business." I took a breath. "But I know you mean well, and--"
"And I messed everything else. I blew it! I messed things up like… like." He trailed off, trying to think of some simile that worked.
"Don't worry about it," I said. Yes, Greg's face might have provided hints for Emma's attack on me, but I couldn't blame him for not being a great liar, or not having a poker face. At least not if I was being honest, since it wasn't like I was a mastermind either. "But either way, I'm living with her for the moment, and I'm going to… I'm going to try to convince her to go straight."
"Uhh, Taylor. Oh! You mean legitimate."
I blinked, "What else could I have… really?" My lips pursed. "Really?"
"S-sorry, my mind just… anyways! Uh, how's gaming going?"
"Pretty good. Rachel really likes Laser Panic 2." Which was a silly name, but it was this laser dodging and redirecting game, where you used mirrors and other tricks to get around them, and the lasers grew more numerous as the level went on. It was, honestly, something that you'd imagine as some free-to-play game that wound up getting an actual budget and turning out alright.
"Really?"
"I play video games with her, yes," I said. "I mean, she said she likes them."
"You have two game-players?" he asked.
"No, one. And then I sorta lean over her shoulder. Or against her, and play it. You know?"
"I… do," Greg said, a little dubiously. "I mean, Taylor. Uh."
"What?" I asked.
"Are you sure she's not playing because it means time with you?" Greg asked. I could almost feel his blush through the phone. "I mean, it's something people do."
"Well, maybe. But she likes it too. Anyways, so, I'm going to be living with her for a while. We'll see what happens," I said. "But I thank you for not telling Dad about any of this, it wouldn't have ended well for either of us."
"Your Dad, he sounded upset."
"He was," I said. I took a breath, tense and worried, feeling my hands clench and unclench. "So am I. But he was going to refuse to let me see her."
"Really? That sucks," Greg said. "Um, Taylor. Maybe not immediately, but can we meet sometime in the next… sometime. Like, to eat something? Or hang out? I promise I won't tell your Dad, and I won't go to her… wherever she lives."
"Maybe. We'll have to see. I'm going to be very busy the next week, but… I do want to see you again. You're my friend, after all," I pointed out. "So, is there anything else?"
"Your Dad hasn't told anyone you ran away yet. Um, other than me. I asked about that, and he's keeping it down low. He can't do so for long, but if you miss Friday, he won't say anything, and they won't think much of it. I mean, they'll call, but..."
I wondered how long it'd take before people realized I was gone. I took a deep breath, wishing I could just lay down and think this through and come to some easy, perfect solution.
There wasn't such a solution, and there never would be. I should just accept that, but…
But I didn't know what Mom would think of what I was doing. Probably not anything good.
"Okay, will he cover for me?" I asked. I didn't really know what happened when someone just stopped going to school. I say stopped, because if Dad knew I was at school, he could call someone, the cops say, and ambush me. Which meant I couldn't go back. Which was going to be a big problem, since school went all the way into June. I had weeks left, weeks that they would be asking questions about.
"I hope so. I mean, I dunno if my Mom would, but…"
Greg trailed off. He didn't talk about his Mom, and his Dad wasn't in the picture. She was a single mother, college educated but probably a little underemployed, and since he was an only child, she doted on her son. Well, in a controlling sort of way, from what I remembered. So yes, he did know what his Mom would do if he skipped even a single day of school and hurt his chances to grow up and go to Law School or enter Congress or whatever the heck she wanted.
It wasn't fair to him, but then, had either of us exactly been blessed? "Oh, right," I said. "Anyways, so, about the other news."
"Other news?" he asked.
I was just saying something to buy time, but now that I thought of it, Greg had mentioned that there was a new Game Station coming out next year. It was like Playstation but for poor people from Earth Bet who didn't have Japan to make these things.
I sometimes wondered what things were like, on Earth Aleph. It was apparently a better world than ours, happier and better.
But then, it didn't have Rachel in it.
"Well, like Game Station 2, did you see the press release? I didn't, but you said it was…"
Greg seemed really, really glad to be on a topic he actually knew something about, and we wound up talking for almost fifteen minutes before I hung up.
*******
That night was the same as so many other nights, but different. It wasn't the air, though it felt like it'd rain at any moment. And it wasn't the mission, because it was simple. I wanted to be ready for a real attack on those Merchants. I was tired and frustrated and perhaps if we brought the Protectorate the Merchants in a bag, they'd be more willing to listen to my arguments.
It was a plan. Was it a good one? I wasn't sure, really, considering how I was apparently being treated online. But as I wrote and wrote, details flitting to mind with every moment, it felt like I was adding up to something. I had the kind of information I needed to take them out, even if they got away, and while the Protectorate probably had an idea of what I could do, did they know all of it?
No, the difference was that I had a bodyguard.
She was wearing my costume, even the collar, and standing close to me as I spaced out. I could focus all I wanted on my pen, the paper, and the bugs, without having to worry about something happening.
She was there, watching my back, and I knew she had to be bored.
"I'm sorry," I said at a break where we were walking to another alley to hide out in.
"Why?"
"You're bored," I stated.
"A little, but eh." She shrugged. I couldn't see her face, of course, but I could imagine it. "Shit needs doing."
"It does, but…" I trailed off. "You know, Rachel. I was planning on asking you something--"
I froze. Were they killing a guy?
A bunch of Merchants were beating up a drunken old man, who was screaming and trying to run, and I paused for a long, horrified second, my mood dropping as the man eventually crawled away.
I should attack them.
But what if it ruined my cover? Or led to…
My bugs were already swarming the three young punks, as they flailed themselves, shocked, and then in pain once a few wasps went their way. I frowned, and Rachel didn't talk, just watched me as I defeated them.
It wasn't complex, it wasn't hard, I just beat them. Not even worth dwelling on. And then the bugs left.
"What?" she asked, finally.
"Was just beating up three Merchants who were attacking an old man," I said. I frowned, though she couldn't see it behind my mask. "Man, it must be really weird, since I was just standing here and all."
"Yeah, a little," Rachel admitted. "What were you saying?"
"Would you like to go out to lunch tomorrow? With me?"
"Yes?" Rachel asked, and again it felt like she was confused. Unaware of what I meant.
"Together," I said, stressing the word.
"Ye… wait." She frowned. "Lisa texted or something. She said she needed the answer on whether I was staying with the Undersiders. So I have to go meet her tomorrow and tell them to fuck off." She nodded, as if this was obvious.
"Oh. Well… maybe after that?" I asked, aware that I hadn't actually said the dreaded 'd' word just yet.
I hadn't made it official. But maybe I'd ask, when she made it official that she was off the Undersiders.
We were patrolling together, we could be partners, and I could ask her out on a real date and… well, just figure it all out.
*******
It was raining in the morning when we woke up, really storming like it hadn't in a while, and it made the ground in the backyard a muddy mess. So of course the dogs were tramping around in it, they didn't really have any other choice if they wanted to potty, and besides that, some of them seemed to like the rain.
I was sleepy and a little out of it that morning. We'd stayed up too late and woken up too early, not that this was all that unusual, in another sense.
I could check the weather on my phone, and apparently it'd dry out at around ten. Then she'd be going to meet with Lisa and the rest at eleven, eleven thirty.
Then I'd try to pop the… wow, thinking about it like that made it feel like a lot more than what it was.
"I should get more cereal later today," I said, as much to myself as to Rachel, as she finished with the dogs and wandered over to look at what I was writing down. I had been looking over the details on the Merchants that I'd been able to find, trying to memorize it, and turn it into a rather seedy walkthrough of more than a few distasteful figures.
"Sure."
"Maybe some variety," I said, smiling. "And we can figure out other parts of our… partnership."
"I have a lot of money, if you wanna go somewhere big or something," Rachel said, with the kind of look on her face that made me aware that she wasn't the type who really was interested in something like that.
But she thought I might be.
And truth was, she was right. Though I had no idea what qualified as 'big' to her. Expensive? Formal? If so, then she didn't really have something to wear, and neither did I.
"Maybe. Let's take things hour by hour," I said.
"Sounds good," she said, and then gestured to the dogs. "We need towels."
"You don't have any left?"
"They need to be dried," Rachel said. Oh, right. We could really use, say, a line or something. It'd save money at the laundromat.
Little details like that would have to be managed, I realized. That's what living together meant, and I'd realized it several times already. But I kind of liked the idea of it. Figuring it out with her, and all of that.
I was waiting for the shoe to drop.
Perhaps I should have been waiting for the boot to stomp down on the world's face.
Because as I nodded and began to talk to her about air-drying and laundromat costs--and she nodded along, just letting me talk out like Emma used to do with me, but it felt more real and genuine, or perhaps I was fooling myself--there was this moment of silence and restfulness that felt as if it were false, somehow.
And then I heard something, loud enough to be heard across the entire city.
It was like an air raid siren, a symbol of disaster. I'd heard it only in drills for this moment. Loud and shrill and grating, the kind of sound you couldn't ignore or miss. I covered my ears for a moment, as my heart almost stopped.
"Endbringer," I said, in a terrified, tiny little voice.
*******
A/N: And thus ends this very, very long Arc. Longer than I expected, but this was always planned. Sure, a little later than canon, but they don't go on exact schedules. Not *that* exact, at least. Thanks to @NemoMarx.
By the time I was jogging towards Rachel, I realized how crazy this was. I had just run away from home. I'd run away from home when I hadn't even thought about it before today. Sure, I could tell myself that it'd been building up, some sort of confrontation, but Dad hadn't raged and stormed and done anything to justify me running away from him. In the traditional sense.
It'd almost be easier if he had.
Instead, he'd forbidden me, in a calm tone, from seeing Rachel. I didn't know where I'd be without her, and I knew that it was sentimental and mad and all sorts of other things to think that way. As if I owed her my life. That was how I felt, though, and I should have been consumed with regrets.
Instead, I was just filled with doubts. But I knew there was room for me at Rachel's.
Rachel, who stood there, watching as I jogged up, exhausted and nervous and imagining how much I'd hurt Dad. I hadn't want to, but… but. What was I supposed to do? What was anyone supposed to do?
What I did know was that Rachel hadn't even hesitated. When I'd told her what I needed, to stay with her, she had accepted it. She hadn't wrung her hands and talked about maybe if I behaved she'd let me see her again in a week. She hadn't jumped straight from 'bullying for years' to 'But why did you punch her?'
Not acceptable? Maybe, but why the fuck did I need to hear that first thing? Why not any of the thousand other problems that I had right now that had nothing to do with me lashing out once at the trio, and everything to do with a broken school, and a broken world.
Against all of that, the fact that Rachel made me feel special and even… not pretty? But attractive, to her at least. And the way she listened to me?
Dad was not willing to help anything, and his only advice was to hurt things even more in the name of some sort of crackdown.
I looked into her eyes when she saw me, and I saw it again. Reflected there. Warmth, desire, concern for me that wasn't rooted in the same feeling every time I felt it that I was letting her down, or that she had let me down.
"Taylor," Rachel said, and she did me the great favor of not asking if I was okay, but just stepping forward and quickly wrapping her arms around me.
It was a brief hug, but I leaned into it, and realized I was tearing up badly. The world blurred, and I buried my head in her neck for a moment as she began stroking my hair and patting my back. "S-sorry, I just…"
I didn't feel sorry, but you were supposed to--
"Why the fuck are you sorry?" Rachel let out a bitter laugh. "Just come on. I have… I dunno. I bought chocolate if you want it."
"I would," I said.
"An' ice-cream and shit. I dunno. Lisa said that you might…"
She'd asked Lisa? Man, she must have really been desperate to have gone to those sorts of lengths to help me. "She gave advice?" I asked. "What did you tell her?"
"Just that you were upset," Rachel said. "I'd never tell her personal shit."
"Oh, good," I said, taking a breath. "Wait, how do you have ice-cream?"
"Bought a freezer."
Oh, of course. I assumed she meant some sort of little freezer, though that did bring up the question where she got power for it. Did she buy a generator as well? Just how much was she spending on me?
Now wasn't the time to worry about that. "Got it. Thanks." I hugged her for a moment more, and then went off with her. We were jogging, but we could have walked. Dad wasn't chasing me down, or if he was, he wasn't looking the right way.
I imagined how hurt he had to be, and I knew that I'd have to… well. I'd have to figure all of this out later. For the moment, my guilt was overwhelmed by my relief, and when we finally got close to what I thought of as her place, the dogs started barking.
Some things were always the same.
It was nine or so, and that meant it was probably time to sleep, but I knew the dogs would want to see me, and I nodded as she opened the door and I stumbled in, walking down the hallway and opening it up.
To a flood of canines.
*******
"Aww, that's a good girl, Angelica. Roll over, please," I said. "So I can scratch your belly more." I smiled, amid a pile of dogs. The chocolate was in another room, since it was bad for dogs, but honestly the canines were a pretty good start when it came to cheering me up. They were always so happy to see me, especially if Rachel gave me a few treats, and they were warm and slobbery and…
Well, I'd always had something of a soft spot for dogs, and that spot had only grown. So I spent a while with them, though it occurred to me that if I was staying with her long-term I'd have to figure out how to bathe. There was a lot I had to figure out, I thought, as I got my bugs spread out over the three or four blocks that my range spread out over.
I wasn't really prepared for it. But right now, it didn't feel like it was going to crash down on me.
I knew that given time, the fact that Rachel lived mostly according to the sun--for instance, it was dark now, and she had no lights--and that there wasn't a shower, and other things… they'd matter.
Right now, though?
Snuffling doggy noses and treats.
********
It was about ten when I stumbled into bed, and Rachel stumbled after me. I was about to get into bed fully clothed when she asked, "Won't your clothes get messed up?"
I doubted she cared, and of course, she'd seen me rather less dressed than in… oh, I'd have to find my pack and grab pajamas that I'd brought…
You know what? I thought to myself, stripping down to bra and panties. I could find it tomorrow. Tonight? I was just tired.
I snuggled into the blankets, and Rachel came in after me, and when I stared up at the ceiling, or rather the floor to the unfinished second level, it felt almost right.
*******
We woke up in a tangle of morning obligations and awkward rushes to the bathroom. I had to brush my teeth, and change into new clothes, and that meant I'd need to find a laundromat or something like that before too long. Then of course, I wanted to at least wash my face and get some of my body wet, even if it wasn't really going to count for showers.
There were the dogs as well. As usual, I helped clean out the crates and pour their food and get their water, and they didn't seem surprised to see me, though they were still excited, most of them. Dogs had personalities just like humans did, but they were also trained. I remembered the way I'd ordered them around, and that made me wonder, in an idle sort of way, what they saw when they looked at me.
Or what they thought, for that matter.
We feasted on dry cereal for breakfast, and yes, it turned out that she had bought a little hand-crank generator, the sort that they often sold to people 'in case of Endbringer'. Or rather, for the aftermath of such an attack. Which was optimistic, in a way, considering just how dangerous one of those was. But it meant that all she had to do was crank it for a while each day, and it'd store up power to keep the freezer running. It was a lot of work, but I wasn't exactly full of great ideas, was I?
"Hey, can I play that one game?" Rachel asked.
"Sure, I did bring it along," I said. It was about ten, and the day had gone slowly. But I figured, soon enough, I could start figuring out what to do. I had the bugs to deal with, get them in mason jars or the like, and then I had a whole host of things to go out and buy.
I'd have to be careful not to be seen by Dad, so I was thinking I'd go to some out of the way, run-down store. There was a Dollar Colonel a few blocks away that probably had plenty to sell.
I fished out the game-system and handed it to her, and she started playing, sitting on the pallet, keeping an eye out for the dogs. She'd no doubt get bored at some point and wander back over to take care of the dogs.
If I wasn't in OSS, I'd be at school right now, and I expected to feel an outpouring of absolute guilt about this.
But I didn't, not really, and it was nice just being here with her, watching her play and get frustrated and then angry and then happy again at some silly game with lasers that relied in reflexes that I really didn't have.
It was getting towards noon when my mind finally returned to the fact that I had plans to make, and a schedule to keep.
********
"Hey Rachel," I said.
"What?" she asked, as she looked over the dogs.
"I'm going to go out for a bit. Grab some food for the pantry, and maybe… whatever else I need. Is it okay if I take the money? I know you said yes, but--"
"Yes."
"So you say yes again," I said. "Well, that works. Though we do have to think of a way to budget all of this."
"You can do that," Rachel said, and I knew that she wasn't exactly the budgeting type.
"I can. Though we have a lot to figure out. Like the bugs thing. And what were you thinking with the…"
"Wanna go on patrols or whatever together?" Rachel asked. She said it slightly fast, as if she wanted to throw it out there before I had time to change the subject.
"Does that mean you're at 'no' for the Undersiders thing?" I asked. "For sure?"
"Prolly. So we patrol and see what we find? Or did you have some kinda plan?"
"I did, actually," I admitted. "Going after the Merchants as soon as I could. With your help, it could be very soon."
Rachel looked at me in that way that always told me that if she was the grinning type, she'd be grinning. Instead, it was just an intent look in her eyes. "Fucking Merchants."
"Well put," I said. "Is there anything else you know or would want to do? Have they set up a new dog-fighting ring, or anything like that?"
"I dunno. No clue if they did," Rachel said. She glanced over at the dogs, and I could imagine her imagining more. For her, there was no such thing as too many dogs. One day when she was older, she might qualify as some sort of crazy dog lady.
Not that she was crazy. But she was pretty into dogs. "Well, if they did, we'd need to get a bigger place," I said. Then I frowned, thinking. "You know, if you were on the up-and-up, I mean, if everyone saw you as a hero, you could work with the local dog shelter?"
"Was gonna do that," Rachel said. "Volunteered at local shelters. Then someone came, talked about a team and safety for my dogs and a whole lot of…" she gestured around at the building. "This."
"So you joined up," I said. It did make sense, really, but it was also something that could change. If she joined because of practical reasons, she could leave because of practical reasons.
I hoped it was that simple, because simple could be good.
"Yes," she said, looking as if she expected me to say something about that. It was the stubborn look on her face. We hadn't really gotten into any arguments, but I could imagine that she was not the sort to ever give up. Like a dog with a bone was a saying that occurred to me, for some mysterious reason.
"So, moving forward, if you worked at a shelter, and maybe people knew about it, maybe they'd be willing to donate. Or if you ran one." I frowned. "People donate more to people for less. It's very hit and miss, honestly, but dogs." I shrugged. I'd said before how crazy people could get at dogs, and it was still true now as it was then. It'd always be true.
So I knew I was being repetitive. Repeatedly.
"Maybe," Rachel said. The second time she seemed to be listening more, thinking about it, and I leaned towards her, not wanting to interrupt her, but fascinated by the look of concentration on her face. It reminded me of other looks, at other times, and that meant that I was red-faced and distracted.
"W-well, we'll figure it out together, right? While I'm gone, feel free to play the games or look at the books. I'll be back as soon as I can. And I'll try to keep out of the way of Dad. Or anything that might lead me to go back."
Rachel nodded, looking at me with a look that promised far more trust than I would have expected. She didn't even doubt me, that I'd come back, and that I'd stay back. Maybe I could ask her: maybe I should ask her.
'Rachel, will you go on a date with me?' It was the clear next move. If anything, it was a move I should have asked a long time before now.
Instead, I'd dithered and was still doing so. I should ask. Very, very soon.
Maybe in a few days, once we were settled down.
"Got it," she said.
"I'll make sure to write down what I take, and I can get you the receipts, too."
"Thanks," Rachel said, flatly.
*******
It was odd, shopping with someone else's money. It was this feeling of responsibility that I couldn't really have expected. I sorta got how married people got into clipping coupons and the like. Even if it's the money of both people, there's a definite feeling that you don't want to be wasteful and throw it all down the drain.
I bought clothes, but in order to miss Dad, I made sure that they were used clothes, and I got pop-tarts and cereal and as many things that could be eaten dry and cold as possible. Ice-cream would have to run into the problem of carrying it all, and even the clothes and the one bag of groceries were going to really weigh me down.
So I had to do it in stages. could I have asked for Lisa's help? Yes. But instead, I went back, showing Rachel the clothes and then swinging around to buy a few more toiletry kind of things, as well as a flashlight. That'd be useful, certainly. I wasn't sure what else I needed, and I stood around a little, thinking about what I could use.
Oh, maybe a water bottle? I could reuse it, and that would help me keep hydrated. Then, when that idea came, another few things occurred to me. Headache medicine could help, at least enough that I should have it on me. It'd definitely pay off if either of us was injured, since neither of us had insurance, nor honestly any desire to use a hospital.
It was rough, being a villain, because you needed to find excuses for being roughed up. It was possible, sure, but that didn't mean there weren't complications. For instance, a bruise was far easier explained than a bullet wound, which you'd have to find some sort of bribable doctor to deal with. Or someone who knew first aid.
I could… ah. I could get a first aid kit, of some kind. Even if all it had were basic things, I decided to add it to the list.
I spent a lot of time shopping, and a lot of time listening, which convinced me that I needed to buy a notebook or three. I didn't write while I walked, but I tried to remember snippets of conversation and the like, and put it all together in my head, testing out what I could do with my bugs.
The truth was, by the time I got back to Rachel's the second time, I had even more ideas for things I could buy, but I'd also burned through the self-imposed budget I'd set, and so I just stepped in and saw that Rachel was outside, playing with the dogs.
"Hey!" she called out, nodding at me as she started to move towards the food. The dogs realized, and I worked on getting it open.
It was a free-for-all, but eventually the dogs were fed, and I babbled a little. "So I was thinking, we could maybe get more stuff, if we found a way to… do something with the generator? We should be able to figure something out. But that's for later. Right now, we have some options. Do you wanna go out to get something? Or we can eat pop-tarts and cereal and of course I also got some granola, that kind of thing. I could have brought fruit, do you like fruit? I didn't know what kind of fruit you liked. I'm not sure, but if you made a list of foods you liked and didn't like, I could deal with that. Though I can't really cook anything but I do known how to cook and maybe I could teach you if we ever got in front of a burner. That way we can share something, and it's not like my tastes--"
Rachel listened to all of it. I could tell because her head turned to face me, and she nodded, and after a moment frowning she said. "I like apples. And meat. Chicken's better than pig, but either's fine. Don't like spicy stuff."
"Well, that helps," I said, nodding briskly as Rachel turned to keep one of the dogs from snapping at the other for food. "And dinner?"
"Maybe stay here?" Rachel suggested with a shrug, and an odd expression. "Cheaper. An' we can play games. Or fetch." She gestured to a stick she'd put out of the way for that purpose. "Tire them out for bed early."
For… oh. Oh! Oh.
Right. Yes. I nodded, deciding that this was a good plan and perhaps I'd underestimated her strategic genius. "Why not?"
Why not indeed? It was my evening… no our evening, and we could do what we want, go to bed when we wanted…
So I played video games and snuggled up to Rachel, and then threw fetch as it started to get darker, but not nearly so dark that the dogs couldn't find the stick, until at last it was dark. I'd begun to put some of my bugs away in jars or containers, and they sat there, under my command, though when I went to sleep, that'd be something.
Fireflies buzzed about as we made our way to bed, and in a playful, silly gesture, I had a few of them buzz overhead in the dark, when body met body and I ended my first day of living with Rachel.
********
It took time to get into a routine. But it was possible. She got up first, and went to go to the bathroom, and then I got up, later than her by a little, but not that much, and did my own business. It wasn't quite yet time for my period, and I didn't have a shower or bath to fiddle with, and so I wasn't behind her any when I tripped out the door to feed the dogs.
The dogs came first, I understood that with Rachel, and only once they'd all eaten was I able to have honey cheerios and cocoa puffs and a cinnamon sugar pop-tart.
It was probably not the breakfast of champions, but it tasted good, and I decided that if I was going to eat like that, I needed to go out jogging. I was pretty sure that they were going to be hunting for me.
I admit that I hadn't expected what Dad had wound up doing, but I was pretty sure he didn't want to call the cops on me, and besides that, at least at the moment, the school won't even know. At least, not if he didn't tell them.
So I went for a run. Halfway through, sweating and tired, I realized that I didn't have a shower, and that this was probably a big problem, but I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do about it, so I just sucked up that gross, sweaty feeling and got home for lunch, which was something we'd need to go out for, unless I wanted to subsist on Rachel's jerky.
Or cereal. I could, but I didn't want to.
Rachel didn't comment on how I smelled, but I knew she had to notice, and what was I supposed to do? I changed into another outfit, similarly simple and a bit run-down, but I'd also have to get them to a laundromat I'd passed on the way jogging back here.
That'd be a little more money thrown down the drain, and with nothing to show for it so far except for temporary comfort.
Lacking an actual apartment and an actual income stream, especially if Rachel quit, meant that I needed to be thinking these things through sooner rather than later.
Perhaps I should get online, and send out a few feelers. I admit that right now it felt good just going through my day, as if all the little annoyances were okay since I was sharing them with her. And I did talk about the shower problem with her, and she nodded along and listened, though she didn't have any easy ideas.
Then I had some time to try to help her with the writing. I'd ask her to spell a word, and then I'd help her with what she got wrong, and try to break it down, and then have her practice writing the letters.
Brutus, not Brootus. Angelica, not Anjelika, Judas not Joodas. It was not hard to get her to know to write that, but then the real difficulty was always going to be smuggling in learning about how it all worked. Because it was easy to see and correct for individual cases, but the rules of grammar and spelling were bizarre and sometimes arcane.
Of course, little steps were what mattered, I thought to myself, as the day wore on towards about when I'd be getting out of school, and I started thinking about asking her out to dinner, and actually saying it was a date.
There was a difference between two friends going out for dinner together and people going out for a date, I knew it. It was… it was how things were done, and so I should just ask her. Maybe she'd even say yes. I knew she wouldn't lie, that was for sure.
I was stewing on these problems when I finally decided to check out my phone, to see if Lisa called me. I'd turned it off, and I wasn't going to respond to Dad--though if Dad knew about this phone, something odd would be going on--but if Lisa had some news or information, it was important to check on that.
What I saw instead was that Greg had been calling me. Again and again. Oh, right. He had to be worried about what had happened to me. He'd sent texts too, each of them more panicked than the last.
'Where R u?'
'What's happening?'
I realized that I had another friend who mattered to me. Sure, not in the same way that Rachel did--if he did, that'd be awkward, for one--but he was still my friend. And I'd left him in the lurch completely, even if I hadn't exactly had much of a choice. If I'd told him ahead of time, he would have had a chance to tell Dad.
But now?
Well.
I dialed him up, noting the time. He should be off of school by now. This could be really painful, or really helpful, and I wasn't sure which one it'd be. Either way, it had to be done. It could be a first step towards talking to Dad. Was there some way I could explain myself without looking crazy?
I didn't want to go back to live with him. Not yet, at least. But if there was some way to talk to him without him siccing the cops on me as a runaway, or something… even though I was a runaway.
The phone rang only once before he answered. "Taylor?! Are you okay? Do you need a rescue? Wait, if you did, would you say you did. Blink once for… wait no, no, um, say potato if you need a rescue, and pota-toh if you don't. What happened? Your Dad called and he said--"
"One question at a time, please," I said. How could someone deal with that, really? Better to ask questions slowly rather than babbling endlessly.
"Are you really Arachne? I mean, I know you are, but are you supposed to say you aren't? Are you a hero? Is it fun? Do you kick ass?"
I let out a deep breath, but the truth was that there was no way that to deny it that didn't look silly. "Why do you suspect that?" I asked.
"Your father called me. Um, he was distraught, and he asked me questions. I, uh, didn't answer anything much, but I could look it up and see that you were Arachne."
"Then fine," I said. "I am. I'm a hero."
"Wait, does that mean that the girl with the dogs is… Hellhound?"
"Bitch," I said, without even thinking. I should have denied it, I thought, my face going red as I was glad he couldn't see me.
"What?" he asked.
"She's called Bitch," I said.
"Um, but that's not a very polite name to, you know--"
"Then call her Rachel. That's also her name." I took a breath. "You didn't tell Dad? He'd only worry."
"I didn't, but he's going to figure out if he looks. I mean, online the news is abuzz about how close the two of you are. There's speculation and everything."
I shook my head, trying not to panic prematurely, "What sort of speculation?"
"That you're teaming up, or fooling the Protectorate, or something," Greg said, vaguely. "I mean, I don't wanna…"
"Well, that's fine then," I said. "Or at least, not unexpected. Dad… well, don't tell him we had this conversation."
"So you're dating… Bitch?"
"I just need to ask her," I said, firmly. "Though really, it's not your business." I took a breath. "But I know you mean well, and--"
"And I messed everything else. I blew it! I messed things up like… like." He trailed off, trying to think of some simile that worked.
"Don't worry about it," I said. Yes, Greg's face might have provided hints for Emma's attack on me, but I couldn't blame him for not being a great liar, or not having a poker face. At least not if I was being honest, since it wasn't like I was a mastermind either. "But either way, I'm living with her for the moment, and I'm going to… I'm going to try to convince her to go straight."
"Uhh, Taylor. Oh! You mean legitimate."
I blinked, "What else could I have… really?" My lips pursed. "Really?"
"S-sorry, my mind just… anyways! Uh, how's gaming going?"
"Pretty good. Rachel really likes Laser Panic 2." Which was a silly name, but it was this laser dodging and redirecting game, where you used mirrors and other tricks to get around them, and the lasers grew more numerous as the level went on. It was, honestly, something that you'd imagine as some free-to-play game that wound up getting an actual budget and turning out alright.
"Really?"
"I play video games with her, yes," I said. "I mean, she said she likes them."
"You have two game-players?" he asked.
"No, one. And then I sorta lean over her shoulder. Or against her, and play it. You know?"
"I… do," Greg said, a little dubiously. "I mean, Taylor. Uh."
"What?" I asked.
"Are you sure she's not playing because it means time with you?" Greg asked. I could almost feel his blush through the phone. "I mean, it's something people do."
"Well, maybe. But she likes it too. Anyways, so, I'm going to be living with her for a while. We'll see what happens," I said. "But I thank you for not telling Dad about any of this, it wouldn't have ended well for either of us."
"Your Dad, he sounded upset."
"He was," I said. I took a breath, tense and worried, feeling my hands clench and unclench. "So am I. But he was going to refuse to let me see her."
"Really? That sucks," Greg said. "Um, Taylor. Maybe not immediately, but can we meet sometime in the next… sometime. Like, to eat something? Or hang out? I promise I won't tell your Dad, and I won't go to her… wherever she lives."
"Maybe. We'll have to see. I'm going to be very busy the next week, but… I do want to see you again. You're my friend, after all," I pointed out. "So, is there anything else?"
"Your Dad hasn't told anyone you ran away yet. Um, other than me. I asked about that, and he's keeping it down low. He can't do so for long, but if you miss Friday, he won't say anything, and they won't think much of it. I mean, they'll call, but..."
I wondered how long it'd take before people realized I was gone. I took a deep breath, wishing I could just lay down and think this through and come to some easy, perfect solution.
There wasn't such a solution, and there never would be. I should just accept that, but…
But I didn't know what Mom would think of what I was doing. Probably not anything good.
"Okay, will he cover for me?" I asked. I didn't really know what happened when someone just stopped going to school. I say stopped, because if Dad knew I was at school, he could call someone, the cops say, and ambush me. Which meant I couldn't go back. Which was going to be a big problem, since school went all the way into June. I had weeks left, weeks that they would be asking questions about.
"I hope so. I mean, I dunno if my Mom would, but…"
Greg trailed off. He didn't talk about his Mom, and his Dad wasn't in the picture. She was a single mother, college educated but probably a little underemployed, and since he was an only child, she doted on her son. Well, in a controlling sort of way, from what I remembered. So yes, he did know what his Mom would do if he skipped even a single day of school and hurt his chances to grow up and go to Law School or enter Congress or whatever the heck she wanted.
It wasn't fair to him, but then, had either of us exactly been blessed? "Oh, right," I said. "Anyways, so, about the other news."
"Other news?" he asked.
I was just saying something to buy time, but now that I thought of it, Greg had mentioned that there was a new Game Station coming out next year. It was like Playstation but for poor people from Earth Bet who didn't have Japan to make these things.
I sometimes wondered what things were like, on Earth Aleph. It was apparently a better world than ours, happier and better.
But then, it didn't have Rachel in it.
"Well, like Game Station 2, did you see the press release? I didn't, but you said it was…"
Greg seemed really, really glad to be on a topic he actually knew something about, and we wound up talking for almost fifteen minutes before I hung up.
*******
That night was the same as so many other nights, but different. It wasn't the air, though it felt like it'd rain at any moment. And it wasn't the mission, because it was simple. I wanted to be ready for a real attack on those Merchants. I was tired and frustrated and perhaps if we brought the Protectorate the Merchants in a bag, they'd be more willing to listen to my arguments.
It was a plan. Was it a good one? I wasn't sure, really, considering how I was apparently being treated online. But as I wrote and wrote, details flitting to mind with every moment, it felt like I was adding up to something. I had the kind of information I needed to take them out, even if they got away, and while the Protectorate probably had an idea of what I could do, did they know all of it?
No, the difference was that I had a bodyguard.
She was wearing my costume, even the collar, and standing close to me as I spaced out. I could focus all I wanted on my pen, the paper, and the bugs, without having to worry about something happening.
She was there, watching my back, and I knew she had to be bored.
"I'm sorry," I said at a break where we were walking to another alley to hide out in.
"Why?"
"You're bored," I stated.
"A little, but eh." She shrugged. I couldn't see her face, of course, but I could imagine it. "Shit needs doing."
"It does, but…" I trailed off. "You know, Rachel. I was planning on asking you something--"
I froze. Were they killing a guy?
A bunch of Merchants were beating up a drunken old man, who was screaming and trying to run, and I paused for a long, horrified second, my mood dropping as the man eventually crawled away.
I should attack them.
But what if it ruined my cover? Or led to…
My bugs were already swarming the three young punks, as they flailed themselves, shocked, and then in pain once a few wasps went their way. I frowned, and Rachel didn't talk, just watched me as I defeated them.
It wasn't complex, it wasn't hard, I just beat them. Not even worth dwelling on. And then the bugs left.
"What?" she asked, finally.
"Was just beating up three Merchants who were attacking an old man," I said. I frowned, though she couldn't see it behind my mask. "Man, it must be really weird, since I was just standing here and all."
"Yeah, a little," Rachel admitted. "What were you saying?"
"Would you like to go out to lunch tomorrow? With me?"
"Yes?" Rachel asked, and again it felt like she was confused. Unaware of what I meant.
"Together," I said, stressing the word.
"Ye… wait." She frowned. "Lisa texted or something. She said she needed the answer on whether I was staying with the Undersiders. So I have to go meet her tomorrow and tell them to fuck off." She nodded, as if this was obvious.
"Oh. Well… maybe after that?" I asked, aware that I hadn't actually said the dreaded 'd' word just yet.
I hadn't made it official. But maybe I'd ask, when she made it official that she was off the Undersiders.
We were patrolling together, we could be partners, and I could ask her out on a real date and… well, just figure it all out.
*******
It was raining in the morning when we woke up, really storming like it hadn't in a while, and it made the ground in the backyard a muddy mess. So of course the dogs were tramping around in it, they didn't really have any other choice if they wanted to potty, and besides that, some of them seemed to like the rain.
I was sleepy and a little out of it that morning. We'd stayed up too late and woken up too early, not that this was all that unusual, in another sense.
I could check the weather on my phone, and apparently it'd dry out at around ten. Then she'd be going to meet with Lisa and the rest at eleven, eleven thirty.
Then I'd try to pop the… wow, thinking about it like that made it feel like a lot more than what it was.
"I should get more cereal later today," I said, as much to myself as to Rachel, as she finished with the dogs and wandered over to look at what I was writing down. I had been looking over the details on the Merchants that I'd been able to find, trying to memorize it, and turn it into a rather seedy walkthrough of more than a few distasteful figures.
"Sure."
"Maybe some variety," I said, smiling. "And we can figure out other parts of our… partnership."
"I have a lot of money, if you wanna go somewhere big or something," Rachel said, with the kind of look on her face that made me aware that she wasn't the type who really was interested in something like that.
But she thought I might be.
And truth was, she was right. Though I had no idea what qualified as 'big' to her. Expensive? Formal? If so, then she didn't really have something to wear, and neither did I.
"Maybe. Let's take things hour by hour," I said.
"Sounds good," she said, and then gestured to the dogs. "We need towels."
"You don't have any left?"
"They need to be dried," Rachel said. Oh, right. We could really use, say, a line or something. It'd save money at the laundromat.
Little details like that would have to be managed, I realized. That's what living together meant, and I'd realized it several times already. But I kind of liked the idea of it. Figuring it out with her, and all of that.
I was waiting for the shoe to drop.
Perhaps I should have been waiting for the boot to stomp down on the world's face.
Because as I nodded and began to talk to her about air-drying and laundromat costs--and she nodded along, just letting me talk out like Emma used to do with me, but it felt more real and genuine, or perhaps I was fooling myself--there was this moment of silence and restfulness that felt as if it were false, somehow.
And then I heard something, loud enough to be heard across the entire city.
It was like an air raid siren, a symbol of disaster. I'd heard it only in drills for this moment. Loud and shrill and grating, the kind of sound you couldn't ignore or miss. I covered my ears for a moment, as my heart almost stopped.
"Endbringer," I said, in a terrified, tiny little voice.
*******
A/N: And thus ends this very, very long Arc. Longer than I expected, but this was always planned. Sure, a little later than canon, but they don't go on exact schedules. Not *that* exact, at least. Thanks to @NemoMarx.
Last edited:
