Ruff 1.6
The mystery of just what was going on with all of those people who had suddenly gotten powers, briefly, was going to remain just that, a mystery. Because on that dark night, I wasn't a member of the Wards, which meant that when the PRT vans showed up, and spilled out with troopers, I wasn't going to be one of the people in the loop.
The perils of being an independent hero, really.
I should have been offended or annoyed, but I was really just glad that I'd survived and that nothing had gone wrong, and that now they'd know my name, and that I was a hero. Or at least, that I claimed to be one, and I was going to prove that my claims were right. I was going to make sure to patrol even more from now on, I resolved when I slipped back home and went to take a shower.
I didn't know whether things were looking up or not, but it did feel as if I were at least going somewhere, for better or worse. I needed to figure out new ways to use my powers if I was going to keep it up, but I'd at least made it easier for the two Wards to catch as many of them as possible, and that was something, even if they'd never been in that much danger.
That night, staring up at the ceiling, I began to feel as if I just needed a plan and things would start to all come together.
*******
Routine could be good or it could be bad. The routine of having to go to school every day, knowing that the Trio might have something planned? That made my stomach wrap itself into horrible, painful knots. It had led to a few sick days, actually, and I hated how I sometimes knew when a trap was coming, but couldn't stop it.
I had known Emma better than any other human being I'd ever known, or I thought I had, and that's part of what made it so painful. The gaps in my knowledge through which she'd driven a knife, and the fact that I knew her well enough to see the glee in her eyes, to see the way her stance shifted right before she made some comment that she'd thought about for way too long.
She practiced what she said in the mirror, whether it was a good thing or not, and I'd been there watching her practice for some sort of speech in a school play, and I'd seen that same cock of her hips, that same shifting of her weight, as if it was her job to ram it all into reality, to say it was best she could.
Whether it was a cute speech in a silly play when we were each eleven, or a barbed insult driven with Ahab-like fury straight into me.
I'd tried to build up resistance, had tried to be able to ignore it or not care about it, but I'd failed entirely. I'd retreated within myself, and it hadn't even solved anything. I knew that, but knowing wasn't the same as knowing how to fix it.
And that routine? It just kept on going on. But it seemed almost bearable now, with another pair of routines in its place.
I visited Rachel on Sunday, and then every evening for the rest of the week. She was quiet, and we mostly just hung out, or read. It was clear that she wasn't going to tell all about her trigger and neither was I, but there was still something worthwhile about just hanging out. I shared a few of my games with her, and tried not to laugh at the adorable look of concentration on her face when she tried to play them.
It was a look that seemed so intent on that one thing that I could imagine her trying the same game again and again and again until she succeeded or the battery ran down. She was stubborn, that much was obvious as I tried one game after the other.
She liked a few of them, mostly the ones that didn't involve reading, because while she wasn't illiterate, I could tell, now that I was watching, that her reading speed was rather slow for any sort of RPG filled with context based words. How was she supposed to know what Aereos did, or understand what the Ascension Project even meant? I mean, in the case of the game I was thinking about, the creators clearly had no idea what they were talking about, so why should she?
But she had decent reflexes, and she was no worse at pattern memorization than anyone else, really.
"Damn it," she muttered, sitting on the ground surrounded by dogs, as she took out a game and handed it to me. The first time she'd completely failed, she'd gotten so angry she'd almost thrown it, but she quickly learned that I didn't like that.
It was a Wednesday, and I should have been reading more "The Call Of The Wild" but she'd decided she wanted to play a video game. And so that was that. "Well, let me try," I said, trying not to smile.
"Sure," Rachel said, but despite the gruffness of her voice, she leaned over my shoulder, close to me, as she watched me play. And it felt like having someone there who actually cared about what I was doing changed everything.
Made it harder to win, but easier to have fun.
Sometimes Rachel made it hard not to smile.
*********
The days passed quickly, really, when I was trying with all my might to just press on through to the other side. On the other side of a day at school was an hour or two with Rachel, and then after that, a night out patrolling.
So when Sophia accidentally bumped into me at lunch, spilling some of my mashed potatoes all over my top, I just smiled at her and went to the far bathroom to get it washed off, not trusting the nearby one to not be the scene of another bullying attempt.
A part of me wanted to confront them, to get right up to them and growl and scare them away, but I didn't think that'd work, and I was afraid to try. Afraid of things getting worse. It was easier to just continue on in silence, knowing that school would be done with before that long.
And so the days ground on, and I kept up with my homework, but no more than that. I didn't have time for the attempts to get ahead of the curve in order to get grades that would let me transfer schools (one of my ideas that hadn't panned out), and I didn't put in more effort than I needed to.
The only educational thing I really focused on was looking up more books about dogs, and trying to figure out whether I actually knew how to teach someone to be more literate. I knew there were programs for that kind of thing, but I also knew what would happen if I suggested them to her. And that wasn't counting the practical fact that as a known villain without a secret identity, she couldn't exactly apply to a class.
But perhaps the same food that she would have rejected from a foreign hand, she'd accept if I was holding it out? If I knew the right way to help her understand how to read and spell a little better. It wasn't a big thing, and I knew that it wouldn't change her life or anything, but maybe she'd wanted to read more books about dogs. Maybe she'd find a series she'd like and that'd be another thing for her to do, to stave off boredom some rainy day.
Some rainy day? I started to worry about things like that. What if it rained? I mean, then she'd be wet and cold unless she hid in the backroom and there'd be a lot of wet dog smell to follow her around. Or what if someone attacked her while I wasn't there? It was the same worry that had driven the little fight, but now it had seemed to infect me.
But I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the good feelings that all of this had engendered, and on my patrols, on the work I was doing to try to be a hero.
Because I picked up the pace there, too.
********
Every night I could, which was every single night, I went out that week. I tried to patrol as much ground as possible, even though that meant I didn't get a chance to fight, because I was gathering bugs. I was finding bugs that were liable to stay in the area if I put them in the right place near my home, and yet would be useful.
Not all bugs were created equal. The average beetle, as cool as it was, wasn't really doing much for me. I needed poisonous spiders, flying insects to make their way into people's mouths or fly in their eyes, or just to 'bug' then so I could keep track of them, and stinging insects. Masses of insects were useful, and I could probably eventually use them to throw people off, but it was still important to get more bugs.
And then, once I got them, find a way to keep them. I wish I had money, because if I did, I could create boxes for the bugs, or habitats. As it was, I just felt the expanding range of options and used them a few times.
Most drug dealers weren't Merchants, which was to say that when they saw a cape that they didn't know, they either surrendered or ran. They weren't there for a fight to the death, or to murder a teenage girl only to learn she was a valued Ward or something like that. At least, that's my assumption. The Merchants postured more, and a few tried to attack me, only to go down in a swarm of bugs and give up after some inventive lessons in english invective. Even they mostly just scattered.
It wasn't very useful, but it felt useful, and that meant something. I wasn't sure if I was ready for another fight, not really, and when I thought about it too much, it felt like the months of planning and delay I'd fallen into. It felt like I was afraid, and I hated that feeling.
I wanted to talk to Rachel about it, but I wasn't sure what I could say, and I wasn't sure what she would say. I could guess, though, and I doubted it'd be helpful.
At the same time, it was an odd sort of fear, because I'd felt fearless during the fight with the Merchants. It'd been so fast, and so brutal and yet decisive, that I hadn't had time to worry, I'd just acted and it had worked out.
Maybe I should do that more often? Or at least, try not to think about things, and just push all of my focus into my bugs and what they were doing.
I wasn't sure, and that wasn't a good thing.
And I felt the same uncertainty with Rachel, though I wasn't sure why. Dad at least wasn't asking anymore, but I could feel that he suspected something, that he was just biding his time and not trying to push too hard. There was only so much I could say without making my worried, and all of my experience with not telling Dad the truth hadn't actually taught me how to lie to him.
But the situation, such as it was, was stable. Online, there were rumors about something big coming, and Lung's cronies were still spouting insults and threats at the Undersiders, but when things changed, it was pure luck.
Friday night I'd decided to patrol a little more south. I was still suspicious about all of those Merchants who had suddenly and briefly had powers. It felt like it could be something new, and so I made my way down there.
Several times I had to shift out of the way, there seemed to be a lot of traffic jams, and so I wasn't actually entirely sure what was going on at first. I didn't want to get to close to the cars in the jam, in case it was an ambush. Squealer was known as a tinker who did her super-tech on vehicles, so it was plausible, if I was being paranoid.
I kept on going through one alley and another, my bugs clearing the way ahead of me, until I felt someone on the roof above me.
Two people, in fact, moving across the roof. I looked up above me, carefully, and saw that there was not much of a gap between one building and the next, and as I was looking up, two figures leapt across.
One was so recognizable that I immediately realized what was going on, or at least who was going on.
Pale skin, the kind of pale that didn't occur in nature. Alabaster. And the other one? I looked closely, and I was guessing it was Victor, though they were quickly out of sight, if not the range of my bugs.
Then I managed to hear something, as my bugs continued going to the limit of my range, which had started to expand during the week, though I wasn't sure why. Mush barreled through an alley on the other side of the road, and I stepped forward, still keeping to the shadows and watching.
He was grappling with a tall woman in weird armor. It had wings on it, and it was steel and grey, with a closed helm, but it also had boob plate and yet the sword she had and the shield seemed entirely and completely real.
Mush was one of the Merchants, a disgusting cape whose power was to gather garbage and debris to himself to become a strong golem with a squishy human at the center. Or something like that. In the right area, like here, he could be really impressive.
Dark and barely human shaped, he pounded at what was either Fenja or Menja. They were twins, who could each grow in size and strength, and yet Mush was matching her blow for blow, though I saw, behind her, a muscular, shirtless man I knew to be Hookwolf step up.
Ready to attack at the first sign of weakness. I spread the bugs out, and, farther from that, I could see with my bugs, in an alleyway off and behind Hookwolf, a dozen or so figures all clustered together.
I drew out my bugs as far as I could go, and began to notice clusters. From the way they were moving, fights.
The E88 was pushing into the Merchant's territory, and the Merchants were pushing back. But then, why were Victor and Alabaster on the roof, unless there was someone nearby?
Bugs crawled into houses through windows and doors, searching apartments as fast as they could, my mind spread out in a dozen different directions at the same time. I was barely paying attention to my body, marking everyone with flies while trying to figure out what to do.
Victor, why would he be up there? He was a good shot, could it be an attempt to just straight up murder someone? But if so, who?
In the basement of an apartment building to the right, a crumbling brownstone, there was at least a dozen people, each of them standing stock still, and one person pacing in front of them. I didn't know what that was, and I knew I needed to find out.
This was something big, that was for sure, and I was glad nobody had noticed me. It was a warzone out here, and I was tagging as many people with bugs as I could, but I was honestly running low on flies, just spreading them all out, especially since people kept on moving.
Flies had incredible senses when you thought about it. Think of how hard it was to actually squish a fly. You reached down, and the fly saw it immediately, felt it in a dozen ways, and was already moving. So flies were actually pretty good for sensing movement, and I focused, moving them up and round each of the figures, trying to find details.
For instance, two of the figures besides the ones I'd seen in the fight involving Mush, seemed to be wearing armor of some sort, though I couldn't make out more. It was more a guess that it was armor in the first place, and my supposition was that this was Fenja/Menja and… maybe Kaiser, the leader of the E88? He was said to create his own armor during each fight using his metal-controlling powers.
The other of the twins seemed to be fighting a figure who was making a lot of sounds, and a bunch of other people who weren't. The movements on Fenja/Menja seemed like she was slipping and sliding around, which meant… the other figure was Skidmark?
I focused, though, on the other impressions, such as sound. I was pretty sure that it'd be hard, if not impossible, for bugs to pick up speech. Or at least, it seemed absurd. But they could notice vibrations in the air and interpret them. That meant, in theory, I could tell if someone was talking.
And down below, in the basement, the pacing figure was definitely talking. From the strange impression of force, I felt like they were perhaps yelling.
So, add it all together, and what did you get? Some sort of huge fight between two gangs, and here I was in the middle of it. I gathered as many insects as I could, having them cling, fly, or climb up to where Victor and Alabaster were in general, assuming they hadn't moved too much. I'd need to hit them hard and fast if I was going to stop whatever their plan was.
And then, at the edge of my range, I saw it. Figures moving across the rooftop on the same side as Mush and most of the rest of the fighting. And I also sensed movement coming along the street to my right, approaching closer to where Victor and Alabaster were set up.
I was almost out of bugs, this was too much to monitor. But at the same time, there was this odd, detached feeling to be able to see an entire battle going on. It felt like I was just a spectator, as if this were a game, rather than people living and dying. I didn't know if I liked it or not, but I knew that I had to act. I still couldn't figure out a lot of details.
Insects had an interesting sense of smell, too, but it wasn't tuned to tell humans apart, obviously, it had more important uses, the same with a lot of their senses. Plus everything was on a smaller scale, when you thought about it.
I felt like I recognized the dogs, at least, that were moving along the rooftops. It was this vague sense of visual impression, of a muzzle here, a spot of fur there, all of it confusing and hard to interpret. It made my head ache, but if the Undersiders were here, then what?
Were they going to ambush both parties?
I tensed, trying to figure out my next move, taking way too long to do so, and that was when the choice was taken from me.
There was a scream of rubber, and then Squealer came into view, riding on what looked like a pink, purple and yellow monster car, with a machine-gun strapped to the front. There was no glass on the windows, and it stood higher than I expected, elevating the grubby white girl, covered in grease and filth, far above everyone else.
One hand was on the steering wheel, the other on the gun as she aimed it straight at Menja or Fenja. Of course, being elevated like that meant she was also a target. And unlike the valkyrie, Squealer wasn't invincible. Victor was going to murder her.
My bugs pounced, stingers stabbing into Victor's skin. He screamed, as I began to try to bring up spiders, which were a lot harder to get up there, though I'd had them crawl through the building to the roof access.
I could feel Alabaster moving to help his comrade, as Squealer screamed out insults and fired on the valkyrie, who roared in pain and fury. As the giant turned to try to confront the Merchants more fully, she was slammed into a wall by Mush, who seemed only larger and more grotesque.
Hookwolf moved in to stop him, and I made sure to cover Victor in bugs and sting as hard as I could at Alabaster. Bugs flew right into his eye, tearing it out, because Alabaster reset every so many seconds. Short of killing him, nothing I did would actually hurt him for good.
I expected screaming when the black widows bit and the hornets blinded him, but instead he was quiet, almost deadly quiet, backing up and waving his hands, grunting almost too softly for me to hear.
Victor more than made up for it, as Mush was driven back by Fenja and Hookwolf combined.
Hookwolf was in his wolf form, a horrific beast to say the least. I was lucky that nobody had seen me yet, since I was pretty sure it'd take mere moments for Hookwolf's spinning barrage of metal to get through my spider silk armor.
So I hung back, wondering when and if anyone would notice me.
Someone was entering the room where the one… man, I think, and the dozen other people were. They reached a hand out and squashed the bug I had on them. But I had bugs on everyone else, so I could tell that the speaker was… maybe female? It was hard to tell, but the voice seemed a little different to my bug's senses, though it was hard to draw even that out.
I needed to practice whatever this was, perhaps put bugs on everyone in school and see if I could multi-task? Or something.
The fight was continuing, and now that Squealer was driving back and forth and firing, it was a lot more even.
But then there was Rachel and her dogs, which were growing larger and larger, biting at the bugs I sent for them, and others on the roof.
Waiting. Waiting…
As Mush finally drove the twin back for a moment, darkness fell on the area, and then these… things leapt down from the roof. Rachel was riding one of them, and I had to assume that Grue and Regent were riding the other two.
If I hadn't known that they were dogs, I might not have guessed at all. They were huge beasts covered in spines and armored plates, their color all evened so I couldn't even quite tell them apart by the usual methods. Each of the dogs was hugely muscled and vicious looking, and I knew that inside each of them was the 'real' dog, beneath this huge mass of flesh. I'd never seen her go full out, and with the darkness hiding things, I couldn't make out much of what was going on, even with bugs.
I stepped forward, a part of my focus still on harassing Alabaster, and Victor, who wasn't moving at all. Down in the basement, the talking stopped. One figure left, the others began to follow her, and then she branched off, running up the building, seemingly trying for the roof.
I focused my swarm, preparing it to go after whoever that was, too, only for the darkness to clear.
My focus dropped the moment I saw what had happened.
The valkyrie was down, and small again, unconscious and being pulled up onto the back of one of the dogs by Regent, who was dressed like some parody version of an Italian merchant-prince, complete with a scepter or something.
But that's not what drew my attention and made all of my bugs begin to collapse on that location, not even bothering to monitor anything else.
Rachel was on fire, and rolling around on the ground to try to get rid of it even as Hookwolf shot more fire at her. Mush was moving to intercept Hookwolf, who must have been using Othala's powers, but what if she was hurt?!
What if she was--
"Arachne!" a voice called from up above. It was Tattletale, I thought, dimly, even as a swarm of bugs harmlessly threw themselves at Hookwolf, trying desperately to slow him down.
"Sting Alabaster! Bitch'll be fine! I'm trying to get him down and locked up!"
The remaining bugs on the roof swarmed at Alabaster, and he went down, still silent, but unable to really hurt them, not with just a few weapons.
There was a bang like someone slamming a huge dictionary down on a table, and then Alabaster's movements slowed. Another bang, and then I felt Tattletale approaching, even as I was striding forward, trying to draw Hookwolf's attention.
Rachel, her costume burnt through at places, had gotten back on one of her dogs. Now they were headed my way, retreating with their… hostage? Or something like that. The dogs must have been strong to take out the valkyrie so fast, and I was trying to figure out what to do when a body fell from up above.
Alabaster, an albino man, in handcuffs. He hit the ground, and there was a cracking sound as bones broke that would, no doubt, heal themselves as soon as he got another reset. There was no sign of the bullet wounds that he must have sustained, but had cycled through. It was just like going for the eyes when you know they have Othala.
There's no need to actually be nice, or to even hold back at all. As long as Alabaster was still alive at the end of his reset time, then it didn't matter either way.
"Get on the dog when it shows up!" Tattletale yelled, "we need to get out of here. You can capture the enemy capes, if you stay they'll--"
Then I felt her turn, my bugs tracking her as she moved right up to the edge of the building and began to work her way down at the side.
I wouldn't have leapt myself, but the moment when Grue's giant dog was above her, she dropped down. She landed clumsily getting a grip at the last moment, Victor coming down with her, unconscious.
She almost rolled off, and I saw that Rachel, burnt as she was, smelling of cooked flesh, was reaching a hand out to pull me up. And Regent? He was stopping to go and get Alabaster.
It was an ambush! Grab a few enemy capes, give them to their hero 'buddy' and then know that I'll help lock them up.
...but how did they know I'd be here? If I wasn't, what would they have done?
I took Rachel's arm anyways, and even burned, even with one arm, she lifted me up effortlessly, pulling me tight against her as Hookwolf ran after us, and Regent remounted just in time.
And then off we went.
********
My heart was still racing, I was still clinging to Rachel as we raced through the dark of the night, which wasn't very dark at all. Streetlights lit our way, and when I finally got the sense, I called the Protectorate. "Hello? I have… Alabaster, Fenja or Menja, and Victor. I've captured them."
"Yes? Who is this?"
"Arachne," I muttered, "I'm Arachne. Please send someone before the rest of the E88 catch up to me to try to rescue them."
Rachel turned, clearly in pain, once I'd finished the conversation, and we journeyed into the lee of a dark building, halfway across time.
I finally got a good look at Grue, who was dressed like the biker from literal hell, as he stepped off the dog and said, "Tattletale, we need to go."
"It's true," Tattletale said. "We have them knocked out or handcuffed, but we should stay close by for at least a little bit, until we're sure that the Protectorate is on the scene."
"Okay…" I said, "can someone tell me what the heck is going on here?"
"We decided to teach the E88 a little lesson," Regent said, waving his arm as if it were nothing, "and then you showed up."
"Rachel, are you okay?"
"Fine," Rachel spat out between grit teeth. "Just fine."
Tattletale got off of the dog, climbing down slowly, and walking over to me, as Bitch whistled and the dogs moved back. Grue was leaving too, trying to get far enough away not to be immediately attacked, but close enough to watch if someone tried anything. Alabaster was still in handcuffs, though it looked like he was trying to work on breaking his own wrists to get out. It hadn't worked yet.
And then we had two unconscious capes, one of them rather badly mauled, and another covered in insect bites.
"Hey, Arachne," Tattletale said, quietly, when she saw that everyone else was far away enough. "You should visit Rachel tonight. She's hurt, and she'll need someone to be there, but it can't be any of us."
"Why are you telling me this? I think you have some sort of scheme going on here," I admitted. "This feels like… something. Manipulation."
"It's not."
"How did you know I'd show up? Were you planning on taking on Hookwolf on your own, or just grabbing one cape?"
"Not quite. I'm not sure how much I can tell you, but we expected someone to show up and help, but weren't completely sure who it was. Now, I need to go before--"
And in the distance, there was the roar of Armsmaster's motorcycle.
********
He was a hero worth looking up to, and also a very, very curt man wielding a giant halberd. "Good work on capturing them," he said, somewhat perfunctorily, as Velocity, who had come with him, kept watch over the enemy capes. "How did you do it?"
"I interrupted a fight between the Merchants, the E88, and then later the Undersiders." What do I say? I took a breath, and decided on a short of truth, "We decided to work together, because they wanted to hurt the E88, and so they helped transport some of the capes I'd taken down here, and then left."
"And you trusted them?"
"I trusted that there was no way they could hold the villains," I said, trying to sound earnest, but I felt my palms sweating. I wanted to get out of here and help Rachel. She was hurt, I had to do something, even if it was just being there for her. "And it seems to have paid off."
"Is that the only reason you helped them?" he asked.
"Yes, of course," I said.
"Very well," Armsmaster said, with a curt, almost dismissive nod. There was something about his frown that seemed different. "Anything I should know about any of the prisoners?"
"A lot of spider bites, including black widows, on Victor. He's an adult, so it should be fine. Black widows are rarely fatal," I said. For whatever reason, Velocity started at that. But it was a pretty obvious fact, wasn't it? Despite their name, they weren't impossibly dangerous, though they were still useful enough. "Alabaster is fine with everything, as you'd think," I said, "and I think that Bitch--"
"Who?" Velocity asked.
"H-hellhound. She doesn't like being called that, though. I'm not sure why," I said with a shrug, as if it didn't matter, "That she had her dogs attack this person. Fenja or Menja, I'm not sure which one she is. But that should heal, over time. She's not bleeding anymore, at least."
I knew that wasn't exactly the best sounding defense ever, but what was I supposed to say? It was a cape fight, of course it was a little brutal.
"Understood," Armsmaster said. "We can take it from here."
And just like that, I was dismissed. In other circumstances I'd be fuming all the way home, annoyed at the way I had been brushed aside, and afraid of being suspected to be a villain or something because of being associated with the Undersiders.
Instead, I just relaxed as soon as I was out of sight and went to an alley to change back from Arachne to Taylor. I had a friend to visit.
*********
I'd never been to Rachel's place so late at night. It meant that there were very few lights, and when I went up to the door, only one or two dogs barked at first, though a few more joined in, roused from sleep, before Rachel finally opened the door, glaring out.
She didn't have a shirt on, and in one hand she was holding what looked like a burn salve.
I flushed, out of surprise more than anything, and said, "Rachel."
"What?" she asked, angry.
"I just wanted to check up on you," I said, my words tripping over themselves, "if now's not a great time then I could just…"
"Come in," Rachel said, after a moment.
She turned, and I followed her in, closing the door behind me. It was dark, and I could barely see her, but it was still. I don't know. It felt too private? She opened the door to the main area, and then walked over to a pallet, picking up what looked to be some sort of lamp.
It was like something you'd use out in the wilderness, with no chord. Probably battery powered? I supposed that was one thing to buy with your money, as she switched it on, revealing her torso.
She had a burn just beneath her breasts, which were covered by a blue sports bra, and then just right at her collarbone. She was sweating, clearly in pain, her flat stomach, which I could probably have bounced quarters off, sometimes retracting slightly in little spasms of pain as she tried to apply the salve to herself.
"I could…" I trailed off. Could I? I looked away.
"You could?" Rachel asked, speaking between grit teeth.
"If you need me to help apply it, or do anything, or hold your hand while you do it," I said, "I'm your girl."
"Okay," Rachel said, looking at me intently, the light casting strange shadows on her body, on her face. She looked different in the dark, in a way I couldn't quite place. My stomach was a ball of stress, and it seemed to be getting worse as she handed me the salve, opening it up.
I pushed on the tube, and getting one finger, I began to spread the salve over her collar-bone. "Shh, shh, it's okay. Don't hoot so much, you'll wake up the wolves," I muttered, remembering that my Mom had said that once, when I was really sick and she was trying to apply a salve for a rash that had broken out.
"Wolves?" she asked.
I didn't know what I was talking about, my finger trailing past the bra to rub underneath. I couldn't quite figure out why I wasn't breathing.
Then it was done, and she stopped wincing. "There, is that better?"
"Yes."
"I… if you want to talk, I'm here. I'll be in tomorrow," I said, standing up. I didn't know why, but I wanted to leave right now. I, something was…
"Wait."
I stopped, halfway towards the exit already, ready to retreat. I turned. "Yes, Rachel? I didn't mean to leave, but I can't really sleep over, Dad would flip…"
Rachel looked conflicted, which startled me. She seemed like someone who had very little self-doubt. She stood up, striding towards me, until she was face to face with me, looking up slightly because I was taller than her. She was staring at me as if memorizing every single feature of mine.
And then she spoke, casually, matter-of-fact even.
"Wanna fuck?"
What.
********
A/N: And thus ends Ruff Arc.
This was kinda the focal point/idea that led to this fic starting, the last exchange, in a way.
Thanks to
@NemoMarx and
@Great Greedy Guts .
