Confrontation II: the Reckoning (Worm fanfic) COMPLETE

While embarking on therapy-mandated activities, Taylor and Sophia literally run into someone on the Boardwalk. There will be far-reaching consequences.

Disclaimers:
1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me use it.
2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, then I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, then I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations.
3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion.


This is a sequel to Confrontation.

Index
Part One: An Unexpected Encounter (below)
Part Two: Conflict Resolution
Part Three: Repercussions
Part Four: When Right ... is Wrong ... is Right Again
Part Five: Bonding Time
Part Six: At Long Last
Part Seven: The New Normal
Part Eight: All In
Part Nine: All Out
Epilogues

 

Confrontation II: the Reckoning

Part One: An Unexpected Encounter


“I understand, Taylor, that Sophia has revealed to you the essence of why your previous best friend turned on you.” It was almost a statement, almost a question. Taylor found herself almost drawn into a response. Mrs Yamada was very good at this.

“Uh, yes, she did,” she agreed. Glancing across to where Sophia sat, she went on. “It's got to do with the ABB attacking Emma and her father, where Emma was traumatised. Sophia got to her when she was vulnerable and convinced her of her bullshit way-of-life philosophy -”

“Hey, it's not all bullshit,” protested Sophia. “It's about the strong and the weak.” She paused, and added as an afterthought, “and you're pretty damn strong yourself. You want to say it doesn't exist, you want to give away your power, never use it again?”

“If I was just using my powers to hurt people, I'd deserve to lose them, yeah,” retorted Taylor.

“I was using mine to help people.” Sophia's tone was defensive.

“Okay, everyone take a breath,” Mrs Yamada's voice cut through the gathering tension. “Taylor, Sophia, I want you to do a mental exercise for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Mrs Yamada,” Taylor responded. Sophia just nodded; the 'bullshit way-of-life philosophy' comment seemed to have hit a nerve.

“Good. All right, Taylor, I want you to think of five situations in which a strong-versus-weak philosophy would be a good idea. Sophia, I want you to think of five situations where it would be a bad idea.”

Each of them looked startled and somewhat discomfited. “But I don't believe that,” protested Taylor, about one second before Sophia could express almost exactly the same sentiment.

“So stretch your mind. Try to imagine a situation where what you currently believe doesn't apply.” She looked at both of them. “Taylor?”

Taylor blinked. “Oh, uh, in a beehive. If bees are hatched weak or malformed, they are destroyed before they can weaken the rest of the hive.”

“Very good. Sophia?”

Sophia's forehead was sheened with sweat. “Uh, shit. Sorry. Um. Parents and kids. Parents are supposed to support and educate their kids, not just treat them any old how.”

“Also good,” Jessica praised her. “Tell you what, we're getting close to time, so I'll leave the rest of them for your next joint session. But in the meantime, I've got a homework assignment for the two of you.”

“Homework?” Taylor didn't like the sound of that.

“I thought this was therapy, not school,” Sophia objected.

“If you don't learn from therapy, it does nothing for you,” Mrs Yamada pointed out. “This is a joint activity for the both of you.”

“Okay,” Taylor responded cautiously. “What is it?”

<><>​

“This is the worst idea in the world.” Sophia leaned on the Boardwalk rail, her feet unsteady under her, for good reason.

Taylor finished fastening her own roller-blades and stood up. Unsteadily, she set herself in motion, wobbled over to Sophia, and grabbed the rail beside her. “Apparently Mrs Yamada didn't think so.”

“But roller-blades?” Sophia's voice rose. “Somehow she knew that neither one of us knows how to rollerblade.”

“So we're supposed to figure it out, and teach each other. I guess that was the 'joint' part of 'joint activity'.”

"But I've never used roller-blades before," groused Sophia.

"Well, nor have I."

"Well, you're staying up a lot better than me, which is totally unfair."

"Oh, I used to go ice skating with Emma when we were kids. She was always better at it than me, but I could stay upright at least."

There was a pause before Sophia spoke next. "Uh, about Emma ... "

Taylor stood upright and let go of the rail. "What about Emma?" Her voice was noticeably colder.

"I, uh, I'm sorry for giving her the idea to bully you."

"After the three of you bullied me for so long."

Sophia winced at the cutting tone. "Yeah, well, it's not something that's easy to stop. But for what it's worth, I am sorry."

"Mainly because you got caught."

She didn't bother denying it. "But also because of what I did. And because now I know what an idiot I was. You could have killed me a dozen times over once you got your powers. There's weak and there's strong, and then there's stupid. That was me."

“And still you did it.”

“Yeah, well, I'm saying sorry, okay?”

Taylor moved away from the rail, brow furrowed in concentration. “Still doesn't give me the why of it.”

“I told you why!”

“No, you told me why you told Emma your philosophy, so she could be strong. Doesn't explain why you picked on me. Give me your hand.”

Sophia extended a hand; Taylor took it. “You were there. Emma needed to compare herself, to be able to prove to herself that she was getting stronger.” She let herself be guided away from the rail.

“Put your feet like mine. Your weight farther forward. So how long have you been in the Empire Eighty-Eight?”

Sophia jerked her head around to stare at Taylor. The motion destroyed her already-precarious balance; her feet went out from under her, and she landed hard on her butt. Taylor nearly went over too, but managed to skate in a half-circle and retain her equilibrium. She looked down at Sophia, still gripping her hand. “You okay?”

“You did that on purpose!” Sophia glared up at her.

“Well, I didn't mean to make you fall over, but you have to admit, it was kind of funny.” Taylor's mouth quirked, but she didn't laugh out loud, as much as she wanted to.

“What the fuck did you mean, calling me a Nazi?” demanded Sophia, trying to get her feet under her.

Taylor braced herself, centring her weight over the skates. “Well, that's what you were doing. Back in World War Two, the Nazis needed to get the people on side, so they invented a common enemy that had been there all the time.” She paused, and grunted as Sophia came to her feet.

“You're talking about the Jews.” Sophia stared at her. “That's why they hated them, why they killed them?”

“Sure.” Taylor shifted her weight, moved around Sophia a little. “Watch your feet. See how I move mine? Move yours the same way. The Jews and other minorities were an easy target; a lot of people already disliked them. They just made it official. You made me your target so that Emma could have someone to look down on, to make herself feel better.”

“Fuck.” Sophia moved her feet carefully. Her natural athleticism, and years of experience of rooftop-running, were coming to her rescue; she seemed to be moving more easily now. “And the Nazis did this shit first?”

“It's what they do,” Taylor told her bluntly. “So how does it feel to be a Nazi?”

Sophia glared. “Stop calling me a Nazi!”

Taylor glared back. “Then stop being one!”

There was a long pause, then Sophia ventured, “I don't hate Jews.”

“It's not about race hatred,” Taylor explained patiently. “It's about setting yourself up as being better than others. Master race bullshit. Strong versus weak. Predator versus prey. Ubermensch versus subhumans. All part of the same bullshit package.”

They began to move off down the Boardwalk, Sophia still a little unsteady, while Taylor moved with much more confidence.

“So why race?”

Taylor looked around; Sophia was watching her feet carefully. “Sorry?”

“Why race?” asked Sophia again. “Why use that as a point to attack them on?”

“It's a visible thing. They look different, therefore they are different. It's a short step from 'different' to 'wrong'.”

“And that's how I was treating you. Like they used to treat people like me.”

“And how the Empire wants to keep doing even today, yeah.”

She turned her head to look at Taylor; for the first time ever, her eyes were full of pain. “Shit, Taylor, I -”

“Look out!”

<><>​

The collision could have been avoided, even at the last moment, but Sophia misjudged and went right instead of left. The young man in her path went the same way; they went down in a tangle of limbs. Taylor nearly had a collision of her own, but she leaned one way, the teenage girl in front of her leaned the other, and they brushed past each other.

Taylor skated in a circle and came back. “Geez, I'm sorry,” she exclaimed. “Are you guys okay?”

The two on the ground were still trying to get themselves sorted out; the other girl, instead of helping, was pointing and cackling with mirth. “Holy shit, that was awesome!”

“Shut up, Aisha,” her male companion retorted, pushing himself to a seated position. “How about you help, instead of laughing?”

He was, Taylor belatedly realised, quite muscular. Very muscular indeed. Sophia looked up into his face. “Hi,” she murmured winsomely. “I'm Sophia.” Taylor blinked; she had never heard Sophia use that tone before.

“Uh, hi,” he replied. “Brian. You okay?”

“Oh, uh, my ankle's a bit sore,” she prevaricated. “Not sure if I'll be able to stand on it.”

“Well, let's have a look at it, then,” he stated. Not moving from where he was, he took her ankle and started probing it with what looked like strong, capable hands. Taylor felt a stab of jealousy; no-one ever offered to check my ankle for injury when I fell over. Especially not a hunk like that.

“Hi,” the girl announced herself, extending a hand. “Aisha. That big lunk's my brother Brian.”

“Taylor. That's Sophia.” Taylor shook the girl's hand; she and her brother were both at least as dark-skinned as Sophia herself, but Aisha sported a purple streak through her hair. She also wore a microscopic top, denim shorts, and luridly-coloured tights; not too bad for the Boardwalk, but Taylor suspected that this was her daily wear anywhere she went.

Breaking into Taylor's thoughts, Aisha tilted her head at where Brian was still checking out Sophia's ankle, their heads close together. When she spoke, her voice was low enough that neither Brian nor Sophia caught it. “Smooth.”

So she'd seen it too. Twisted ankle, my ass. “Him or her?”

Aisha smirked. “Yes.”

Okay, yeah, her I like.

“Well, it doesn't look damaged, and there's no swelling that I can detect,” Brian decided, although Taylor noticed that he didn't take his hands off of Sophia's ankle. “But you might want to take the weight off of it for a while.”

“Help me to a bench?” asked Sophia, giving him the puppy-dog eyes treatment.

“Sure, okay.” He wriggled out from under her, and helped her to her feet, making it look effortless. They made the trek across to one of the benches that dotted the Boardwalk, and she let him assist her in sitting down. “Here, I'll help you get these off.” He bent over the fastenings on the roller-blades. “They'll just be in the way, and you probably don't want to be on them for the rest of the day.”

“Thanks,” Sophia told him, her gratitude sounding genuine. “I didn't want to come out rollerblading, seeing that I've only just really started to learn how, but Taylor insisted, and we're besties, so I can't really say no to her … “

Taylor's eyes opened with with outrage. It wasn't my idea! But she couldn't really say as much in front of the brother and sister, not without raising more questions. So she controlled the reaction, although she wasn't certain that Aisha hadn't caught it.

Brian looked up at her after removing the second set of roller-blades. “I get that you're friends and all,” he noted, mild censure in his voice, “but maybe you shouldn't push Sophia too fast on this sort of thing. You're obviously better at it than she is, and you can see how easy it is to get hurt if you're not careful.”

Oh, how right you are, Taylor wanted to say, but didn't. Just for a moment, while the other two were looking away from her, Sophia grinned at Taylor then stuck her tongue out at her. This time, Taylor controlled her expression of outrage, and instead forced contrition into her voice and features.

“Yeah, sorry. It's obvious that Sophia needs a lot more work on this sort of thing before she's going to get anywhere.” Hah, see how you like that.

Taylor had seen Sophia Hess on the running track; she had a sort of grim determination to her. A drive to win, that had stood her in good stead, time and again. Of course, Taylor had been secretly cheering on the other contestants in the races, given her personal history with Sophia, but she was well aware of the girl's competitive streak. So she noted the glint in Sophia's eye when she shot that barb. Let's see if that gets you on your feet again.

But instead, Sophia changed the subject. “Thanks for the save, Brian. I'm sure things would've turned out a lot worse than they did if I hadn't run into you. So are you and your sister just hanging out down here on the Boardwalk, or were you going anywhere in particular?”

Taylor counted herself as being socially oblivious in most cases, but even she could spot the subtext here; wherever you're going, could I come along too? She wasn't entirely certain whether it was to do with procuring an excuse to avoid the rollerblading, to spend more time with the eminently hunky Brian, or a combination of the two.

I have to admit, he does make for some very nice eye candy. Mind you, if he was feeling up my ankle like he was with hers, I'd probably spontaneously combust on the spot.

Brian didn't answer immediately, and Taylor hoped that the reply would be in the negative; they really had to get back to working on their rollerblading and their issues. As nice as Brian was to look at, he would ultimately be a distraction and an impediment to free conversation.

Unexpectedly, it was Aisha who replied. “Hey, yeah, why not. Big bro was gonna take me to see a movie. He can take one of you two, or even both. I'll just go do my own thing.”

She started to move away; Brian cleared his throat. “Aisha.”

“What?” She was still walking away, but more slowly.

“Get back here.” His tone was mild, but there was steel under it.

“You're no fun.” Her clothing contained nothing with flounces on it, but she managed to flounce back to them anyway. “Come on, bro. You've got a couple of real live girls to talk to. You don't need me as well.”

“Dad said to keep an eye on you and don't let you wander off.”

“Dad can go bite my -”

“Dad being willing to take you in is the only reason you're not at Mom's.”

Taylor glanced at Sophia; she was obviously listening to everything, just as Taylor was, and was probably equally lost. Sophia cleared her throat. “Uh, Brian?”

Startled, he glanced at her. “Uh, sorry, family argument. Shouldn't have aired that in front of you.”

“You hear one family argument, you've heard them all,” she pointed out. “I'd love to see a movie with you.” A sly glance in Taylor's direction. “Taylor can watch Aisha if they don't want to come along.”

Nice try. I wonder what Brian would think of me putting your tracker bracelet back on to leave you with him. The bracelet, temporarily removed for the purposes of rollerblading, currently resided in Taylor's pocket.

“Sorry, no can do. We're sticking together on this one. Just remember that we've got that homework to get done after you've had your movie date, Sophia. Mrs Yamada's pretty strict.”

From the sour look that flashed across Sophia's face, she'd made her point. Sophia could duck out of therapy-mandated activities for so long, but not forever. Taylor would get her back up on roller-blades, and would finish that talk with her.

“Hey!” protested Aisha. “What about me? Don't I get a say in this?”

“Yeah, you do,” Brian told her. “You get to come into the movies with us, or you get to go home to Dad's. Your choice.”

The younger girl grimaced. “You suck.”

“Doubtless. Your choice?”

Aisha rolled her eyes. “Fine. Let's go to the movies.”

“Look, if you don't want to go to the movies with us -” began Taylor.

“Nah, nah,” Aisha assured her. “It's not you, it's him. You got a big brother?”

“No,” Taylor told her.

“I do,” Sophia put in.

“Then you know what I mean,” Aisha told Sophia. “Big brothers can be such douches, you know? Always sticking their noses in.”

“Oh, don't I know it,” sighed Sophia; Taylor couldn't tell if she was serious or not. “Other people's big brothers are just fine though.” She shot Brian a mischievous grin.

Aisha rolled her eyes again. “Wow, come on, let's get to the movies already. I'm getting diabetes here.”

“Shush, Aisha,” Brian ordered, ignoring her raised middle finger. “Sophia, how does your ankle feel?”

“Better.” She rose and gingerly tested it. “Still a bit tender, but I can walk on it.”

“Great. You got shoes?”

“In my backpack.” She indicated the pack that she wore, almost a twin to the one that Taylor had on. It was how they'd gotten the 'blades to the Boardwalk in the first place.

Taylor had an idea. “Hey, Aisha, can you rollerblade?”

“A bit, why?”

Taylor turned to Sophia. “Can Aisha use your blades? We can get some exercise in while you two slowpokes are trudging to the movies.”

Sophia barely hesitated before handing them over. “Don't break them. Or better yet, do break them. I'm beginning to hate the sight of them.”

“Yeah, yeah, good try,” Taylor told her. Sophia wrinkled her nose at her.

The roller-blades fit Aisha reasonably well; she was obviously as rusty as Taylor had been when she first got back on to them, but within moments was moving easily. “Okay, this is cool,” she admitted, sweeping around in a curve and getting back to them.

“Let me guess,” Sophia challenged. “You used to go ice-skating when you were a kid?”

“Nah,” Brian replied. “We had a roller rink near our place for years before it shut down.”

“Is it just me, or does everyone but me know how to rollerblade?”

Sophia's question was probably rhetorical, but Brian answered her anyway. “I don't know how, either.”

Aisha grinned. “But he does know kung fu.”

“What, really?” asked Taylor, startled. He is built, and moves like he can take care of himself, but an actual martial artist?

“Not really,” he replied. “Not one of the official styles, anyway. I'm more of a mixed martial arts fan. I basically take what I need from different styles.”

“That's how Bruce Lee did it,” Sophia noted. “I dabble a bit myself. Maybe we can spar, sometime.”

“When your ankle's better,” he pointed out. “Movie first, sparring later?”

“Movie first, sparring later,” she agreed.

“Is that what they're calling it these days?” jibed Aisha. Sophia took a moment to get it; her jaw dropped in shock. Taylor grinned and gave Aisha a high-five.

“Aisha, enough. Okay, we should get going if we're going to get there in time,” Brian noted.

<><>​

They made their way down the Boardwalk; Brian and Sophia walked side by side, chatting, while Taylor and Aisha skated up and down. Taylor found that while she was the faster, due to her longer legs, Aisha was quicker on the turns, and more agile overall.

When they got to the movie theatre, Taylor stored her roller-blades in her backpack, replacing them with the sandals she had been carrying; Aisha handed the borrowed 'blades back over to Sophia. The movie turned out to be an Earth Aleph action thriller, depicting dubious-looking aliens and square-jawed human protagonists. Taylor sat between Sophia and Aisha, with Brian on the other side of Sophia; Aisha finished her own popcorn, stole some of Taylor's to throw at Sophia and Brian, and snarked about the movie the whole way through. Taylor laughed so hard that she missed most of the plot points, but she didn't care.

This is what I've been missing. This is fun.

<><>​

The sun was getting low over Captain's Hill when they emerged into the open air once more.

“So yeah, that was good,” Sophia told Brian. “Wanna do it again sometime?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I'd like that. Aisha?”

The younger girl considered that. “Sure. You guys are cool to hang with. I guess I could bring myself to stand your company some more.” She nodded at Taylor's backpack. “Especially if you bring roller-blades.”

“Yeah, well, I've got to get you back to Dad's soon, so we've got to get going.”

“Wait.” Sophia pulled out her phone. “Get your number?”

“Good idea.” Brian got his out as well.

“I'll get it too, just in case.” Taylor got her Wards phone out, thankful that it wasn't outwardly different from a standard phone.

Numbers were exchanged; Taylor got Aisha's number as well. As abrasive and sarcastic as the girl could be, she was also fun to be around. And her home life is obviously not the best.

“Well, we'll see you around,” Brian observed, starting off up the Boardwalk. Aisha, walking backward beside him, grinned, stuck her tongue out, crossed her eyes, and waved.

“See you later,” Taylor responded, trying not to laugh at Aisha's antics. Once the other two were lost in the crowd, she turned to Sophia. “Twisted ankle, huh?”

Sophia grinned unrepentantly. “Got me off the roller-blades and into a movie with a good-looking guy, didn't it?”

“Yeah, well, you know we're gonna have to get back on to the roller-blades, right?”

“Can we do it tomorrow?” Sophia indicated the westering sun. “Bit late today.”

“That's fine, but we can still talk about what we were talking about before you ran into Brian.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk about Brian,” Sophia suggested. “Would you have problems with me seeing him again?”

“I -” Taylor stopped. “I couldn't let you go on a date on your own, not without talking to Ms Bright. But I can come along.”

Sophia sighed, aggravated. “Damn probation. And he's such a nice guy, too. I got along with him really well.”

“I could see that,” Taylor agreed. “He is nice. And his sister's a hoot.”

That raised a chuckle, despite Sophia's attempts to stifle it. “Yeah, she is. There's this line about a beautiful friendship in some movie or other -”

“Casablanca,” Taylor supplied. “'I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship'. I've watched it with Dad a dozen times.”

“Yeah, that's the one.” Sophia smiled; a genuine smile. “The beginning of a beautiful friendship. That sounds about right.”

And Taylor couldn't help but wonder if she was right.


End of Part One

Part Two

 

Confrontation II: the Reckoning

Part Two: Conflict Resolution


Sophia eyed the office door sourly. It was in no way ostentatious; the plaque that read DEPUTY DIRECTOR was, if anything, a little understated. This did nothing to make her any happier.

"Do you have to report this?" It wasn't the first time she'd asked the question, or even the second.

"No." Taylor turned to look directly at her. "We do."

"Why? I mean that seriously. What they don't know won't hurt them."

"And what they find out later can hurt you, quite a lot." Taylor indicated Sophia's booted ankle, currently free of the tracker bracelet, given that she was in costume. "I don't know how sophisticated the tracker is, or how closely they're following it. All they need to throw you back in juvey is just one reason, and not even a good one. If they realise that we spent part of yesterday at the movies instead of rollerblading, that's a good enough reason. So we get in first."

"But I never ditched you," protested Sophia. "You were right there, keeping an eye on me."

"For which they only have my word," pointed out Taylor. "If you had indeed ditched me, they can breach you for it, and you go to juvey. On the other hand, if I'd let you talk me into going to the movies, that makes me look like a less than adequate parole officer; they take you off my hands, and you go to juvey. You can see where I'm going with this."

"But won't just telling them have the same effect?"

"Nope." Taylor favoured her with a grin. "If we tell before we're found out, we get to tell it our way."

"Oh." Sophia blinked. "I never thought of admitting to it as being a way to get out of trouble. I'm used to just not being caught, I guess."

"So how's that working out for you, exactly?" Taylor's grin grew just a little razor-edged.

Sophia wrinkled her nose. "Twice. I was caught twice."

"But it was those two times that mattered, yeah?" The grin became a smirk.

Taylor was right, of course; the two times that Sophia had been caught in her breakages of the rules were the significant ones. The first had been an incriminating arrow left nailing a nearly-dead gang member to a wall; that near-murder had led the PRT to issue an arrest warrant for her.

It had been a shocking and salutary lesson for Sophia, previously secure in her personal conviction that nobody could catch her if she didn't allow them to. With almost insulting ease, the PRT had tracked her down, hemmed her in, and taken her prisoner. Almost as shocking had been her unmasking at their hands; however, they had not made the information public, or even threatened to. In less than a day, she had gone from being strong and untouchable to just another teen undergoing the less-than-tender mercies of the juvenile justice system.

The second time she had been caught had been, of course, at the hands of Taylor herself. In their civilian lives they had been bitter enemies, an enmity pursued more strenuously from Sophia's side than Taylor's. In light of what she knew now, Sophia had reason to give thanks for Taylor not opting to declare all-out war upon Sophia and her fellow bullies. Such a conflict would have been as short-lived as it was unequal, and Taylor would have almost certainly come out the victor.

This time, she had been more stunned than surprised; first by the revelation that Buzz was the despised Hebert, and second by the fact that Taylor was standing by her, rather than letting her be thrown to the wolves.

All of this had driven a very deep wedge into her system of beliefs, most especially strength versus weakness, and her ability to spot either one. Her self-confidence had also taken a hit; one she was sure she would recover from, but in the meantime she found it better to defer to Taylor's judgement. Scratch that: Buzz's judgement.

“You suck,” muttered Sophia. Taylor's smirk merely intensified. She raised her hand and rapped briskly upon the Deputy Director's door.

<><>​

“Come in.”

Deputy Director Renick watched the door open; Buzz came in first, followed by Shadow Stalker. Clasping his hands in front of him, he looked them over; neither one seemed particularly upset, which was a good sign. “Please, sit down.” They did so. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, sir,” Buzz replied. “I'd like to report an incident that happened yesterday while we were down at the Boardwalk, rollerblading.” She waited expectantly.

Renick paused. “Ah, yes,” he replied. “I believe I recall that. Mrs Yamada required you to do that as part of therapy. So what is it that you would like to report?”

Buzz took a breath. “Basically, that we didn't spend the whole time roller-blading. Sophia suffered a collision, and hurt her ankle, so she couldn't keep going. So we … well, we went to the movies.”

Renick pursed his lips. “The movies.”

Buzz nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“And Shadow Stalker was in your sight the whole time?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And did you make any progress on your issues with each other?” As Buzz went to answer, he held up his hand. “I'd like to hear this one from Shadow Stalker.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” replied the other girl. “We talked a bit. She said some stuff that hurt, but it was true anyway.”

“Is it something you can repeat to me, or would you rather keep it for Mrs Yamada?” asked Renick carefully.

The two girls glanced at each other, and Buzz shrugged slightly. Shadow Stalker nodded, and turned back to Renick. “She told me I was being a Nazi,” she admitted. “That hurt, a lot.”

“A Nazi?” asked Renick, somewhat taken aback. He turned to Buzz. “Did you really?”

“Well, actually, I asked her how long she'd been in the Empire Eighty-Eight,” Buzz admitted. “But it's the same thing, I guess.”

“But … why?”

“Because of the way I used to do stuff to her, before I knew she was Buzz,” Shadow Stalker clarified. “I like feeling strong, and Emma wanted to feel strong, so I picked her to push down so we could feel stronger. She says it's how the Nazis did things, and she's smarter than me so I guess she'd know.”

<><>​

“Hm.” Renick rubbed his chin. “I suppose it was kind of the way they worked, yes.” He looked at Sophia. “How did you react when she told you this?”

“What do you think? I was pissed. But then she told me what she meant by it, and yeah, I wasn't happy, but she wasn't wrong either.” Her mask hid her expression, but her tone of voice was less than thrilled. “That sort of shit hurts. Especially when it's true.”

“Well, I'm not going to try to analyse that,” the Deputy Director assured her. “It's not my job. But I am pleased to hear that you are making some progress. Which doesn't mean that I'm overly happy about you going to see a movie when you should be roller-blading, but it is good that you're reporting it to me.” He paused. “You weren't limping when you came in, so I presume that it wasn't anything serious?”

“Not so much, no,” Sophia agreed.

“But it did put her off her feet for an hour or so,” Taylor noted, “so we could either sit around outside or … well, movie. By the time it finished, it was getting dark, so we went home.”

Renick nodded. “Well, all right. I can accept that.” His eyes glinted. “Just be aware that I will be noting this down. So I suggest that you not make a habit of it.”

“No, sir,” Taylor agreed. “Thank you, sir.” She had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew, or had guessed, more than she was admitting about what had happened.

“Was there anything else?” he asked.

“Uh, no, sir.” Taylor shook her head. “We're good to go.”

“Good to hear. I'm rostering you on to patrol with Clockblocker. The three of you are reasonably competent, but do not forget that he's in charge.” Renick looked over his glasses at them. “Understood?”

This time, Sophia answered first. “Yeah, we got it.” Taylor followed on with her own answer in the affirmative.

“And don't stop off to go to the movies, hmm?” This last was delivered with a wry smile.

Taylor and Sophia escaped from his office, carefully closing the door behind them. As they moved off down the corridor, Sophia turned to Taylor. “He knew, didn't he? Did you tell him?”

“Hey, I said nothing,” Taylor replied, holding her hands up. “If I was gonna spill the beans, I would've done it in front of you. You know me.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Sophia moved on down the corridor. “How the hell did he figure it out then? Or do you think he was having us watched?”

“Nah, it's simpler than that,” Taylor decided, matching her pace. “He's been here for years. He's been in charge of the Wards all this time. Do you think there's anything that he hasn't caught them – us – doing at some time or another?”

“Huh.” Sophia's voice sounded as though she were thinking hard about this. “I guess you're right.”

“Uh huh.” Behind her mask, Taylor grinned. “So, was I right about telling him before he found out for sure?”

“You still suck.” But Sophia didn't sound angry.

“Right, sure. Says you.” Taylor indicated the elevator. “Renick said that we were rostered on with Clockblocker. So, let's go find Clockblocker.”

<><>​

It was relatively quiet in the Wards' base; Kid Win was covering the monitor console, and Vista was soundly beating Aegis at ping-pong in the game area. Dennis sat at one of the tables with Buzz and Shadow Stalker.

He looked from one girl to the other. Great. What did I do to deserve this? Shadow Stalker was hot and all, but it didn't mean that he liked her. Nobody in the Wards did, not really. Except Buzz. Which he still couldn't understand. Especially after what had happened.

“Okay,” he began, then cleared his throat. “Okay. I get it that we're going on patrol, and I'm in charge. That's fine. I just want to make one thing absolutely clear from the start.”

Buzz tilted her head slightly. Her costume was almost the opposite of his; dark grey and black instead of white, creepy yellow goggle lenses instead of a faceplate, insect mandibles instead of clock faces. I still think it would make a great supervillain costume. How could you make something like this and not realise what it was going to look like before you were finished?

“Sure,” she responded. “What is it?”

He waited a moment, until he realised that Shadow Stalker wasn't going to add her two cents. “Uh, I just wanted to make sure that both of you knew that you're not allowed to kill each other while we're out there. Attack the bad guys all you like, but not each other. Is that clear?”

“Oh, that?” asked Buzz. “We're past that, right, Shadow Stalker?”

“Yeah,” the cloaked ex-vigilante agreed, addressing Dennis. “She broke my jaw, so we're all good now. Besides, I'd be a moron to try to attack her. Seriously, do you have any idea how good she is with her bugs?”

“Uh, pretty good?” he ventured. “I was there when we rescued you and Browbeat from Stormtiger.”

“Pfft.” She waved that off. “That was her playing minor league. She's stepped up her game since then.”

“Shadow Stalker … “ That was Buzz, not sounding particularly pleased.

“Until you've seen her doing bugpocalypse, you ain't seen nothing.” Shadow Stalker dusted off her hands in a satisfied manner.

“Uh … bugpocalypse?” That really doesn't sound good. He looked at Buzz. “What's, uh, bugpocalypse?”

Buzz gestured off-handedly. “It's Shadow Stalker's stupid name for one of our tactics.”

“It's not a stupid name,” Shadow Stalker protested. “It's a great name. And it describes it perfectly.”

“And what is it, exactly?” Is this how Miss Piggy feels when she has to deal with me all the time?

“Oh, uh, I cover people with bugs, then Shadow Stalker takes them down.”

Shadow Stalker snorted. “More like, she puts bugs everywhere people don't want bugs to go.” Her chuckle sounded positively evil. “Imagine every time a bug's walked across the back of your neck. Now imagine about a million of them, all smart. All knowing exactly where to go to give you the biggest squick-out in history. Knowing exactly where to crawl, where to bite. All over you. That's what she does.”

Dennis could, unfortunately, imagine it. He repressed a shudder. “O … kay. I see. Well then. This is non-lethal, right?”

“Oh, sure,” answered Buzz promptly. “I tell spiders not to bite, and I've got epi-pens in case someone's allergic to wasps or bees.”

“Mind you,” Shadow Stalker chimed in, “with the bigger and nastier ones, like Lung, she doesn't have to hold back.” She looked at Buzz. “Is it really true that so many spiders bit him on the junk that it fell off?”

“No!” The word popped out hastily. “Because, uh, Panacea was there. He didn't lose, uh, anything important.” Her voice dropped, and Dennis was almost certain that she muttered, “Thank god.”

Yeah, I wouldn't want Lung that pissed at me, either. He didn't want to even imagine how angry the ABB leader would get after losing that part of his anatomy. “Uh, okay, no more discussion over that sort of thing. Buzz, please check with me before unleashing your, uh, bugpocalypse.”

“Sure, I can do that,” the bug-themed cape agreed.

“Good. Let's go.”

<><>​

“On my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark.”

At the word 'Mark', Sophia turned insubstantial and dropped through the roof of the convenience store; her specialised lenses let her see where the electrical cables were, and thus avoid them.

Within, the would-be robbers were already embroiled in a swarm of bugs, assailing them from all directions. A few bugs zipped through her shadow form as she dropped to the floor, but nowhere near as many as were already crawling over the men. She would have winced as she saw the bugs getting under the balaclavas that the robbers were wearing, but the sight was too satisfying, especially as they were too distracted by that to pay much attention to her.

Which was their bad luck; she nailed two with tranq arrows, and began to reload, but the last two robbers decided to make a bolt for it. “Two down, one heading front, one heading back!”

That was for Clockblocker's benefit, Buzz was covering the front door, but her bugs would give her a heads-up long before they got there.

“Roger.” That was Clockblocker.

“Got it.” Buzz's voice.

She took the time to secure the ones that she had put down; the tranq arrows didn't necessarily work as well as advertised, when it came to heavier than normal opponents, or thick clothing.

“Mine's down,” Buzz reported before she was finished; behind her mask she smirked.

“Got mine, too,” Clockblocker noted.

“Lawn ornament, yeah?” asked Sophia. “Need help securing him?”

“No, I'm fine. I've called the police.”

“Okay. I'll be out at the front.”

By the time she got there, Buzz's guy was down on the ground, his wrists neatly secured behind his back. He no longer wore the mass of bugs that had been swarming him as he attempted to escape, but she fancied that he was still twitching in delayed reaction.

“All good out here?” Sophia asked cheerfully.

“Sure,” Buzz replied, the insects in the area mimicking her voice to add a buzzing undertone to it. It sounded extremely creepy, and very badass.

Sophia leaned against the wall, putting her expended arrows away, and reloading her crossbows with fresh cartridges. “We do make an awesome team, don't we?”

Buzz sighed. “Listen. We're not friends any more. We're teammates, and yes, we do make a good team, but there's a lot between us that needs to be worked out. I'm willing to work with you, and I've got your back, but … I'm going to need more time, and a lot more talking, before we can start getting back to where we were before. Okay?”

Sophia compressed her lips behind her mask. “ … yeah, okay. Sorry for bothering you.”

“Hey. I'm not mad, and you're not bothering me.” Buzz put a hand on her arm. “We do kick ass. And I'm sorry too, for snapping at you.”

“Wait.” Sophia blinked. “Did you just apologise to me?”

Buzz tilted her head. “What if I did?”

“No-one apologises to me. It feels weird.”

“Maybe that's because you don't often apologise to other people,” Buzz pointed out.

“Huh. You might be right. You're about the only one I've ever felt like saying sorry to.”

Clockblocker came strolling out through the front entrance of the convenience store. “Shouldn't you be saving that sort of conversation for the therapy?”

Sophia stared at him suspiciously. “How did you even know we're having therapy?”

“Because, for my sins, I'm currently leader of the Wards here in Brockton Bay,” replied the white-clad teen with a sigh. “And because I'm that, I was briefed in on your situation. Including the therapy. And just by the way, I do agree; you two do make a damned effective team. And you haven't tried to kill each other even once, which I will be putting into my report on this patrol.”

“Great, thanks,” Sophia retorted sarcastically. “We get a report all to ourselves.”

“Hey, it's for your own good,” Clockblocker pointed out. “The more it's documented that you're actually getting out there and making a difference, rather than causing a problem, the better it looks for you all round.”

“Still not sure if I like it,” Sophia told him. “Buzz, what do you think?”

“Sorry, what?” Buzz looked around. “I was thinking about something.”

“What about?” asked Sophia.

“This guy. He's ABB.” She indicated the red and green logo on the back of the jacket. “The rest are too, right?”

“Yeah,” Clockblocker agreed. “Why's that?”

“Well, Lung's in custody and Bakuda's in another dimension. The ABB's been hit pretty hard, cape-wise, over the last week or so.” Buzz's voice was thoughtful. “You'd think they'd keep their heads down for a while, instead of getting out and robbing places like this, wouldn't you?”

“Yeah, I -” began Clockblocker, but he was rudely interrupted by the sudden appearance of a demon-masked figure, in the middle of the group.

Sophia had just enough time to register who it was – Oni Lee! FUCK! - before she was clawing her crossbows off of her belt. Buzz had been facing away from both Sophia and Clockblocker, turning toward the older teen, when it happened; with a sick feeling, Sophia saw a gleaming blade swing in a short arc, terminating between Buzz's shoulderblades.

At the same time, the demonic apparition released something from its left hand, something that bounced on the concrete of the parking lot with a metallic clattering noise. A piece of metal, released almost in the instant that it had been dropped, sprang away from the metal ovoid and skittered across the concrete on its own trajectory.

Sophia brought up her crossbows and triggered both of them; the arrows flew straight and true, impacting in Oni Lee's centre mass. He started to fall, just as Buzz and Clockblocker were falling. The former was lurching forward because of the knife between her shoulderblades, while the latter was … diving on the grenade? Why doesn't he just freeze the fucking thing?

Time, which had seemed to be slowed to a crawl, abruptly sped up again. Sophia went to shadow form, just before the grenade exploded. The detonation was muffled, hidden under Clockblocker's form. He can't freeze himself … even if he's frozen his costume, that's gotta hurt.

Buzz was on the ground; Oni Lee's body, likewise, crumbled to ash. Sophia returned to solid form. “Buzz!” Oh god, he stabbed her in the back.

Abruptly, bugs converged at a point behind Sophia; the sound of bugpocalypse was familiar enough to her that she went to dive forward. But something caught her cloak, and a sharp pain shot through her shoulder. She went to shadow once more, freeing herself and turning at the same time. He was behind her, the tip of his blade reddened with her blood. As she watched, bugs converged on him from all over.

And then, even as she hastened to reload her crossbows – not an easy task in shadow, but still possible – the grenade that he had dropped, the one that she hadn't even seen or heard, went off.

She was flung backward, still in shadow form, as the concussion and the shrapnel ripped through her, tattering her semi-immaterial substance. Losing consciousness would be a bad thing, she knew, and so she hung on desperately to her awareness.

Sophia wanted to throw up, but she was pretty sure that such an act was physically impossible in her shadow form. Groggily, she watched Oni Lee reappear once more, this time right next to Buzz, even as his previous form, shredded by the grenade blast, crumbled away.

He's going to make sure of her.

The fuck he is.

Shifting to solid form hurt, physically. She felt bruised all over, even in places where bruises should not be able to form. Unable to stand, she fell to one knee, but triggered her crossbow anyway. The arrow hit him in the back, a clean shot; he stumbled, but something clattered on the concrete before him. Two things. The knife and … another fucking grenade.

“Oh, come on!” Even as she screamed the protest, she dived forward, pushing off with her good leg and going to shadow on the way. Only a few seconds of life remained for Buzz; her armour was good, but not that damned good.

Oni Lee had fallen forward over Buzz, but that wasn't Sophia's biggest problem. That was the grenade, which had rolled right up next to Buzz, as if it knew its intended target. It'll gut her like a fish. No fucking way.

Sophia's straining fingers touched the grenade, pulling it into the shadow realm with her, and then shoving it down, as hard as she could. It disappeared into the ground, even as she lifted a little in reaction. The timer must have been right on activation when she pulled her hand back; her arm wasn't all the way out of the ground when the grenade exploded. The slab that Buzz was lying on lifted and cracked slightly, but there was no other effect.

Moving hurt, even in the shadow form. Doing anything hurt. Even as Oni Lee's body crumbled to ash – again – she was rolling to her feet, scanning around for the next attack. There. Standing off a little way, aiming what looked like an automatic pistol at Buzz. Firing. He wasn't a great shot, not assisted by the bugs already swarming him. Each flat crack was accompanied by a spurt of concrete dust; the shots were getting closer. More and more bugs were arriving by the second, which was about the only reason he hadn't hit either of them yet. But he was still trying.

Well, fuck you. Sophia went solid once more, forcing herself to stay upright, shooting her other crossbow at Lee. She was a better shot than him; the arrow took him in the throat. But she hadn't taken into account the other aspect of his power; even as she loosed the arrow, the arm went around her neck from behind.

One in front, falling; one behind, a fresh version. She forced herself into shadow form once more, to slip the hold; she hadn't seen the blade, but she was sure that it had been close to her vitals. But there was exactly zero time for her to congratulate herself, because Buzz was the target.

Still in shadow form, Sophia twisted; there was the blade, all right. Ignoring her, Oni Lee drove the gleaming knife down toward Buzz. His initial strike point, Sophia saw, had been the carapace that Buzz wore over her upper back; she saw the gouge in it, but the point hadn't carried through. Now, however, he was aiming at Buzz's lower back, putting all his weight behind it. Kidney or spine. Either could be fatal.

Without warning, Buzz rolled, her arm flashing around, up under the carapace; the knife point hit concrete. Sophia went solid, just as Lee appeared again, on the other side of Buzz, standing over the body of the ABB thug that Buzz had taken down just minutes before. The kneeling Oni Lee was still active, and he had a knife at the ready; she kneed him in the side of the head, staggering him. Thumbing the activation on her crossbow, she brought another arrow into line, shooting it at the new arrival – just as a third one appeared next to the second.

The one that she had kneed slashed backward with his knife, opening a gash on what she had laughably called her 'good' leg; she cried out, but refused to go down, refused to go shadow. But then he began to crumble to ash, as the second one fell back with the arrow pumping tranquilliser into him. The third one finished pulling his pistol and pointed it at her face. And then a fourth one appeared beside the third one, also pulling his pistol.

In the normal run of things, Sophia would have simply gone to shadow form and let them waste all the bullets they wanted. But they had Buzz, probably still dazed from the close-in grenade blast, at their mercy; Sophia was pretty sure that her costume would not stand up to bullets, even if it worked against knives.

Buzz sat up quite suddenly; the one pointing a pistol at Sophia, trying to make sure of his aim in the midst of the howling storm of insects that had descended upon them, received a stream of pepper spray all over the eye-holes of his mask. He stumbled backward, but the other one slanted his weapon down toward Buzz. He couldn't miss … but he never fired.

For a long moment, Sophia couldn't figure it out … and then she saw Clockblocker's hand grasping Oni Lee's heel. He came out of freeze, just in time. Thank fuck for that.

She looked around as the third Lee crumbled, alert for the next attack, the next Oni Lee to pop up. Long moments passed; nothing happened, except that more bugs arrived to join the giant swarm now orbiting the parking lot.

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “You got him.”

“No,” Buzz told her. “We got him.”

“Ow,” supplied Clockblocker, as he got up painfully. “Ow. Ow. Ow. Close up explosions are no fun.”

Sophia found it painful to laugh, but chuckled anyway. “Yeah,” she wheezed. “Got that, thanks.”

“So what was that about anyway?” asked Buzz. “Why was he trying so hard to kill me?”

“My guess? Lung and Bakuda,” Clockblocker pointed out. “You were there for both those incidents.” He placed a hand on Oni Lee's shoulder, gripping it tightly. “Tranquilliser arrow?”

Numbly, Sophia pulled one out and handed it to Buzz, who handed it on to Clockblocker. “You think we can actually keep him prisoner?”

“I dunno,” Clockblocker admitted. “But I'm sure as hell not letting him go.”

“Amen to that,” Buzz agreed. “Amen to that.”


End of Part Two

Part Three

 

Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Part Three: Repercussions


Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Sophia had been in life-or-death situations before, but they had rarely been about her life or death, and they'd never involved someone she actually cared about. This situation was different; it hit her harder, on a more visceral level. If Buzz had actually died … she didn't know how she would handle that. Even after the bug controller had broken her jaw, there was still nobody else in the Wards with whom she could connect nearly half as well.

What she couldn't figure out was how Buzz could be taking it so calmly. The bug controller was standing off to the side a little; if Sophia knew her, there would be bugs spreading out over her entire range, locating each and every person in that area.

“No other gang activity nearby,” Buzz stated. Her voice was quiet, but the bugs around her repeated the sounds, so that her statement reached both Sophia and Clockblocker easily enough. “It all looks quiet.”

“Good,” Clockblocker replied, not looking away from Oni Lee. He had the tip of the tranq arrow up against the time-frozen villain's arm, applying almost enough pressure to break the vial and release the sedative. “Shadow Stalker, call this in. Buzz, back off. Get out of sight.”

Sophia could see the sense in that. She was less sure about Clockblocker's chances if Oni Lee managed to start teleporting before her team leader managed to freeze him again.

“No.” Buzz shook her head. “I'm not leaving you.”

“That wasn't a request.” There was a tone to Clockblocker's voice that Shadow Stalker had rarely heard before. Normally, the white-clad Ward was never serious, making jokes at the most inappropriate of times. Sophia was even pretty sure she'd caught him looking at her butt more than once. But now, he actually sounded like a leader, like someone who knew what they were talking about. “I'm ordering you to clear the area.”

“Clock's got a point,” Sophia agreed. “And whether you're over there out of sight or right next to us, you can still bugpocalypse Lee all you like.” She pointed at the pistol. “Your armour's good, but it's not that good.”

“Okay, sure,” Buzz replied reluctantly, starting to move away. “Can you at least jam it up or something?”

“It's frozen, like the rest of him.” But Sophia was looking at the pistol, with ideas forming in her head. “But if I had some duct tape …”

“What, like this?” Sophia looked around as Buzz asked the question, to see a roll of tape arcing toward her. “That help?”

Behind her mask, Sophia grinned as she caught it. “Is there anything you don't carry back there?”

“Still working on the kitchen sink.” Buzz paused. “Sure you don't need a hand?”

Sophia gestured. “Go. We got this.” Turning toward the still-frozen Oni Lee, she pulled a length of tape free. “Now … let's see.”

<><>​

Oni Lee blinked. Things had suddenly gone dark. What happened? He had been fighting with the bug girl and Shadow Stalker. Despite their desperate resistance, he'd had the bug girl in his sights. Reflexively, he squeezed the trigger; nothing happened. Something was stopping it from completing its backward motion.

Something stung his arm and he lashed out instinctively; his elbow hit nothing but air. Why can't I see anything? Reaching toward his face, he realised that his fingers were bound together with some kind of tough material, hampering both his range of movement and his sense of touch. His mask, he discovered a moment later, was somehow fastened to his head. He tried to drop the useless gun, but it would not leave his grip; he couldn't even open his hand.

With the one hand, wrapped in the heavy, clinging material, he clawed at his mask, trying to pull it away from his face. That was when he discovered that there was some kind of binding wrapped around the mask and all the way around his head. It was also covering the eye-holes of the mask, rendering him effectively blind.

A cold sensation spread through his body from the point where he had felt the sting. Lassitude overcame him; he fought against it, but found himself dropping to his knees. As consciousness faded away, he thought he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, but he couldn't quite place it.

<><>​

Armsmaster climbed off the motorcycle and looked across at a crumpled tarp which had a pair of feet sticking out from under it. Three more mooks in ABB colours, their hands bound behind their backs, were lined up along the front of the building, but his attention was on the apparent corpse. “What happened to him?”

It was Clockblocker who answered. “Oni Lee was tossing around grenades. One of them caught that guy. The rest were inside or out back.”

Armsmaster nodded. “Ah.” Collateral damage, although unfortunate, was a fact of life when dealing with hardened criminals. The fact that Lee had taken out one of his own men when trying to kill Buzz was unfortunate, but viewed in the light of cold hard reality, it could have been much worse. “So Lee is sedated?”

“Yes, sir.” Clockblocker held up a tranq arrow; Armsmaster could tell from the empty reservoir that it had been expended. “I don't know how long it'll last.”

Armsmaster looked down at the unconscious villain. “Did you give him the full dose?”

“Yes, sir,” Clockblocker affirmed. “I wanted him asleep just as fast as possible.”

“I can't fault your logic,” the Protectorate hero agreed. He rubbed his chin. “I have to say, I had thought I'd seen every use there was for duct tape, but this is a new one on me. Whose idea?”

“Shadow Stalker's,” Clockblocker said. “Buzz supplied the roll.”

“Yeah,” the cloaked Ward added. “But I think I owe her a new one.” She held up a forlorn-looking cardboard tube; Armsmaster recognised the type immediately. “I kind of used it all.”

Armsmaster nodded slowly. She hadn't gone easy with it, that was for certain. Both of Lee's hands had been swathed in the tough, sticky tape, with a solid wad of it pushed behind the trigger of the pistol he was holding. More held the villain's mask to his face, while yet more again had been wrapped around the bandoleers of knives and grenades that he carried, to ensure that he would not be able to make use of them.

“Well done,” he agreed. “I'll give him another dose of sedative, just to make sure he stays under, then get him back to headquarters. We'll deal with the duct tape once we get him back there.” He looked around. “Where's Buzz?”

“Over here,” the bug controller called out, rounding the corner of the convenience store. “Clockblocker made me get out of sight, in case Lee got loose again.”

“Good thinking.” Armsmaster gave the white-clad Ward a measured nod. “From what you say, he was going all-out to kill her. Any idea why?”

Clockblocker shrugged. “Just that she was there when Lung was taken down, and when Bakuda was sent elsewhere. Maybe he was trying to make a statement?”

“If he wants to make a statement, he'll make a statement all right,” Armsmaster said grimly. “Multiple counts of attempted murder on a Ward? That's a Birdcage offence, right there.”

“Uh, I don't know much about it, but isn't it a three-strikes thing?” Buzz's voice was diffident. “I mean, you've gotta do something pretty heinous to get sent there, right?”

“Wait, you're arguing against him going to the Birdcage?” Shadow Stalker stared at her. “The asshole tried to kill you. Repeatedly.”

“Yeah,” agreed Clockblocker. “What she said.”

Armsmaster noted with grim amusement the startled glance that the two Wards shared. That's probably the first thing they've agreed on since Shadow Stalker joined the team.

Buzz shook her head. “No, I'm not saying he shouldn't go,” she said. “Just that … well, I don't know how it works, I guess.”

“To be honest, the three-strikes rule is more complex than the public generally understands,” the older hero explained. “For a start, not all crimes even register as a 'strike'. Crimes where nobody gets hurt tend to be overlooked altogether. Rob a convenience store three times? You don't even make the radar. Particularly violent or flashy crimes – anything that catches the public eye, really – are what make the 'strikes', and a really nasty one might count as two or even three strikes at once.”

“Wait, wait.” Clockblocker interrupted. “So you're saying that if someone committed lots of low-level crimes, so long as they kept their head down, they'd be in no danger of going to the Birdcage?”

“Unless they started hurting or killing people, certainly,” agreed Armsmaster. “Then all their prior crimes would suddenly add up. Premeditated murder's a big one.”

Shadow Stalker looked around at that one. “So if I get this right, the PRT can basically handwave three strikes whenever they feel like it?”

“If the PRT feels that the offence merits it, they will strongly advise the judiciary to push for the Birdcage, yes,” Armsmaster told her. “That sort of leeway does exist, although we don't tend to use it all that much. The potential for abuse is huge, so they almost always go for lesser sentences. Except for, as Buzz put it, particularly heinous crimes.”

Shadow Stalker hadn't finished. “So … what if one villain decided to off another one? Would he be likely to be Birdcaged?”

“Unlikely. The villain's prior record would have to be taken into account. Gavel, for instance. You've heard of him?”

“Australian villain,” Clockblocker supplied. “Used to target other villains. Saw himself as a hero. This was sort of before the unwritten rules really came into effect, so he used to go after family members and friends to draw out the villains.”

“Exactly.” Armsmaster gave the Ward an approving nod. “It's more the targeting civilians that got him put into the Birdcage, but murdering villains was also a factor. The murder part, not the villains. Going after heroes, on the other hand …” He gestured at Lee. “This attempt today … well, if it had been more of a one-off thing, then yes, it would just be one strike. But this wasn't a single random attack. He went after you with malice aforethought. The PRT has a very firm policy regarding anyone specifically targeting a Protectorate cape for murder.” He indicated the body under the tarp. “Plus, there's a case for murder right there. And he has prior offences. We've just never been able to lay hands on him before.”

“Huh.” Buzz's voice was thoughtful. “I guess that kind of makes sense, then.”

“Exactly.” Armsmaster put his hand on her shoulder. “How are you bearing up? Want to finish your patrol off now? You've just been through a pretty traumatic experience.”

Buzz laughed a little shakily. “What, as compared to Lung nearly killing me, or falling to my near-death? I'm still walking, I've got all my hair, and I've got no major injuries. I call this a win.”

“Actually, sir,” Clockblocker put in, “I think I'll call the patrol off for today. This was a rough fight for all of us. Besides, we've got reports to write up.”

“That's understandable,” Armsmaster allowed. “I'll get a van to come pick you up. The police will be by soon to get the surviving perps.”

<><>​

Taylor found herself leaning against the wall as Armsmaster bundled Oni Lee into a cage that he had erected on the back of his motorcycle. Shadow Stalker leaned beside her, arms folded.

“How are you doing?” the dark-clad Ward asked quietly. “And don't bullshit me. How are you really doing?”

“I, uh, I guess I'll survive,” Taylor said, equally quietly. “I didn't get hurt this time, thankfully.”

“That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it.” Shadow Stalker's voice was impatient. “You're tough. I already know that. You don't have to put on a show for me and Clockblocker. Are you all right, or not?”

“It's not like it was with Lung.” Taylor found the words spilling from her mouth. “Or with Bakuda. Those times, I was just in the way. Wrong place at the wrong time. This time, he wanted me dead. He wanted me dead.” She could feel herself beginning to shake, just a little. “I'm still trying to get my head around that.”

“Hey.” Sophia turned toward her. “It's easy to explain. He's a douche and a sore loser. You messed with the ABB so he tried to mess with you. But we messed with him harder.”

Taylor tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I'm just glad that you were there. You saved my life. Again.”

“Yeah, well, you're my partner. Nobody messes with my partner.”

Without quite knowing how she did it, Taylor found herself hugging Sophia. “Thanks. Thank you. For being there. For saving me.”

“Hey.” Shadow Stalker was obviously just a little uncomfortable with hugging, but she didn't push Taylor away. “You saved my ass too. I saw you pepper-spray that one copy. He was about to shoot me.” Slowly, her arms crept around Taylor.

“Yeah, well, like you said, partners, right?” Taylor could feel her shakes beginning to recede. “You don't get out of probation that easily.”

Sophia snorted with amusement. “And straight back to juvey? No thanks. But to be honest, I wasn't even thinking about that. I just wasn't gonna let that dirtbag hurt you. You know how I hate to lose.”

Taylor let her head rest against Shadow Stalker's for a moment. “Well, thanks. I mean it.”

The other girl sighed. “And there you go again, making me feel all emotional and crap. And you don't even like me. Not that I blame you.”

“Well, that's changing as of right now.” Taylor gave her an extra squeeze. “You put your life on the line for me, even knowing how I felt about you. So I think it's time I cut you just a little slack.”

“Hey, don't go getting all soft on me now, Buzz,” Shadow Stalker warned her.

Taylor chuckled. “Too late. I'm gonna be asking for permission for us to go to the movies. And to invite friends along, if you want.”

Shadow Stalker stepped back for a moment. “Wait, you mean -”

“Yup.” Taylor nodded. “We can invite tall, dark and hunky along. If you really want to, that is.” Deep in her heart, she felt a pang. I'd love to take him to the movies on my own. But then I'd be backstabbing Shadow Stalker. I'd be no better than her. A half-smile. Besides, Aisha's a lot of fun to be around, and there's nothing stopping me from admiring the eye candy anyway.

“I …” Sophia stopped. “I … holy shit. Are you serious? You're not serious. You are serious.” There was wonder in her voice.

Taylor nodded. “Never been more serious in my life.”

“What are we being serious about now?” asked Clockblocker, strolling over to where they stood. Armsmaster had taken Oni Lee away; they were alone in the parking lot, save for the unfortunate ABB casualty and the live mooks. “If it's girl talk, let me know and I'll go watch the mooks for a bit.”

“It's all good,” Taylor assured him. “This is just a personal thing. I'm going to be asking permission to take her to the movies. And maybe bring a date along.”

Clockblocker looked from one to the other. “That's really nice of you, Buzz. But hang on a second. If you bring a date along, won't Shadow Stalker kind of cramp your style?”

Taylor ignored Sophia's sudden coughing fit. “No, the date isn't for me. It's for her.”

“Okay, now I'm more confused than ever,” Clockblocker confessed, turning to face Shadow Stalker. “There's a guy your age who isn't terrified to ask you out on a date?”

Taylor winced, fully expecting Shadow Stalker to blow up on the spot. Oh boy, here it comes. But instead of punching or insulting him, her reply was almost sweet. “Yup. And he's a really nice guy.” Taylor watched her step up until she was face to face with Clockblocker; interestingly enough, the two Wards were almost exactly the same height. “So you can keep dreaming.”

“I, uh, sorry I said anything.” Clockblocker paused. “But I'll vouch for you if they ask me. You did good today. Really good.”

“Thanks.” Taylor raised her voice slightly, turning his attention away from Shadow Stalker. “I appreciate it. We appreciate it.” She lifted her chin. “Now, uh, if you don't mind, I would actually like to have some girl talk with her?”

He took the hint; giving her a sketchy salute, he backed off to where the mooks were still waiting to be picked up.

“What?” Sophia murmured, once he was out of earshot. “Did you think I was gonna deck him or something?”

“The thought crossed my mind, yeah,” Taylor said. “That, or call him an asshole.”

Shadow Stalker snorted softly. “Almost did,” she admitted. “Decided at the last moment that it wouldn't be a smart idea to call my team leader names until after he's written his after-action report.”

Taylor chuckled. “Is it me, or are you actually learning tact?”

A rude noise emanated from behind the scowling-woman mask. “Wash your mouth out.”

Taylor grinned. After learning that one important fact, she had felt that she would never be able to connect with Shadow Stalker on the same easy level that they'd had before. Now, she was hopeful; it would be a long while before she was truly comfortable with the new situation, but it seemed that Sophia was making the effort as well.

I trust her with my life. Now I just have to learn how to trust her with my friendship again.

<><>​

That Evening

“So let me get this straight.” Unconsciously, Deputy Director Renick squared off the papers in front of him with his fingertips. “You want to go to the movies again instead of roller-blading, and you want to allow Shadow Stalker to ask along a date?” His eyebrows rose on the last word as he looked significantly at the two teenage girls before him.

“I'll also be roller-blading, to get there and back,” Taylor pointed out helpfully. “I was thinking we could meet the others at the movies.”

“Others.” His tone was dry. “So this is a date for you also, Buzz?”

“Uh, no, not really. The boy Sophia wants to go out with has a sister. We're pretty good friends.” She seemed about to say more, but shut her mouth firmly instead.

“Indeed. And where did you meet these people?” He watched their faces. “Down at the Boardwalk last time, for instance? Did you perhaps go to the movies with them?”

Sophia opened her mouth, but Taylor nudged her; she closed her mouth again. “Uh, yes, sir,” the bug controller admitted. “It really was an accident. Sophia literally ran into him and hurt her ankle.”

Renick closed his eyes, pressing his fingertips to his forehead for a moment. “And why, exactly, did you not report the fact that your trip to the movies was actually in the company of others?”

“Because at that time it was a one-off, sir.” Buzz's voice was earnest. “I didn't know if I'd even be thinking about asking permission to do it again. And I didn't want to prejudice Sophia's progress reports.”

“Indeed.” His dry tone made them both wilt just a little. “And what, exactly, makes you think that I would be inclined to sign off on a repeat performance? Especially given that you weren't totally forthcoming with me, the first time around?”

Buzz took a deep breath. “Sir, we did tell you that we went to the movies. We're not going behind your back on this one. And I do think that it's helping my relationship with Shadow Stalker. We are getting things worked out.”

“Hm.” Renick picked up the report before him. For once, Clockblocker had deviated from his normally irritating habit of extreme brevity. The glowing language virtually leaped off the page as he described Shadow Stalker's desperate attempts to prevent Oni Lee from murdering Buzz. Trapped in his own time-frozen costume, the leader of the Wards had been an involuntary spectator for most of the fight. By his account, Shadow Stalker had been wounded twice – her bandaged shoulder and leg attested to that – and had still managed to keep Lee's clones off of Buzz just long enough for the tide to turn.

The two girls watched him as he straightened the papers once more and placed them back on his desk. Interestingly enough, it was Shadow Stalker who seemed impassive, while Buzz was more tense. He let them sweat just a little longer before speaking.

“On the other hand, this report is a prime example of what we're trying to encourage in the Wards,” he began. “You backed one another up, you saved each others' lives, and you worked together. I cannot overstate how much I approve of this. Shadow Stalker, you're a probationary Ward twice over now; however, despite all expectations to the contrary, you have justified Buzz's trust in the most definitive way possible. Buzz, I have to admit that I had misgivings when it came to partnering you with Shadow Stalker again, but by all indications it seems to be working out better than I ever expected.”

Stunned silence met him as he stopped speaking. Both girls were staring at him as if he had grown a second head. He couldn't really blame them; the glowing praise, preceded as it was by the dressing-down of moments before, had to have caught them on the back foot.

“Uh, so what does that mean, uh, sir?” To his mild surprise, it was Shadow Stalker who spoke. He would have bet money that Buzz had told Sophia to stay quiet and let her do the talking.

“Well, for one thing,” Renick informed Shadow Stalker, “it means that Clockblocker has put your name up for a commendation. I am inclined to support this. For another, however you're doing it, your partnership seems to be working out well. I will expect a positive report from Mrs Yamada, the next time you see her, but for now I'm going to sign off on this movie date of yours. This time.”

Shadow Stalker did not leap out of her chair to hug Buzz, but he suspected that was because she was too stunned to think coherently.

Buzz, on the other hand, had a response ready. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “Thank you. A lot.” She grinned at Shadow Stalker. “I'll definitely keep an eye on her.”

“I'll be expecting you to,” Renick told her austerely. “Shadow Stalker, I believe that your leg needs a little time to mend before you'll be able to roller-blade again, but I fully expect you to discuss your issues anyway. Is that clear?”

Recovering from her surprise, Shadow Stalker looked less than pleased at that, but Buzz once again nudged her. “Uh, yes, uh, sir,” the probationary Ward replied, a little reluctantly. “We'll do that too.”

Renick smiled. “Good. Then we understand each other.”

<><>​

“Holy crap, how did you even pull that off?” Sophia limped alongside Buzz as they headed down the corridor toward the entrance to the Wards' base. Both had masked up again after leaving Renick's office. “I thought we were grounded for sure.”

Buzz shrugged. “Remember how I insisted on telling them about the movies the first time? This meant that Renick already knew about them, so it wasn't just one more surprise for him to handle.”

“Yeah, but … shit.” Sophia shook her head as she stopped at the retinal scanner. “I'm used to being put on punishment duty, not being told 'sure, you can go on a date'.” She leaned over and let the scanner examine her eye. A buzzer sounded; a few moments later, the doors slid aside.

“Well, part of it's gotta be Clockblocker's report,” Buzz pointed out. “And there's the man of the hour himself.” She moved over to where Clockblocker was chatting with Kid Win at the console. “Hey, Clock.”

“Hey, Buzz.” He turned to face her. “So how'd it go?”

“It went great.” She hugged him. “Thanks for the nice things you said about Shadow Stalker. She totally deserved them.”

“Yeah, she did,” he replied. “Which is why I said them.” He looked over as Sophia approached. “I just want to say, you and me, we never really got along, but I think you and Buzz make a great team. You really stepped up.” He held out his hand. “I'll go on patrol with you any time.”

Slowly, Sophia shook it. She wasn't sure how she felt about him hugging Buzz – she's my friend, dammit – but it was an overture. “Yeah, thanks,” she said awkwardly. “Jumping on that grenade like that, that was kinda badass too.”

He shrugged. “I wear a full-body costume for a reason. But it wasn't a great move, because it put me out of the fight for a bit. How's your leg and your shoulder?”

“Eh, had worse.” She shrugged, very carefully. “I've been stitched up. Should be fine in a few days.”

“Clock was just telling me about the fight,” put in Kid Win. “Did you really put a grenade underground?”

“Only thing I could think of doing,” Sophia confirmed. “The bastard was handing them out like party favours.”

The Tinker nodded at her. “He's scary like that. Good job keeping him off Buzz. Sounds like he really had it in for her.”

“Yeah, well, here's hoping he really goes to the Birdcage, like Armsmaster said,” Buzz added. “That's something I don't ever want to go through again.”

Clockblocker slapped her on the shoulder. “You and me both. It's just a good thing that Shadow Stalker was there too.”

And for the first time in a long time, with the three of them looking at her in obvious approval, Sophia found herself blushing.

<><>​

Winslow High School
Wednesday Morning, April 27, 2011

"Hey, Sophia, wait up!"

Sophia looked around to see Emma approaching, with Madison right behind her. Oh great. She's still pissed about my statement. A quick glance around showed that Taylor was nowhere in sight - she didn't need that particular can of worms opening itself right now - so she turned to face the redhead. "What do you want, Emma?"

"Geez, what got up your ass?" retorted Emma. "All I did was ask for one little tiny favour on Monday and you just stomped off. And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me all yesterday."

I was, because I don't know how to handle this situation. "I wasn't. I was just ... busy." Sophia didn't say any more, because Madison wasn't in on her secret identity.

"Yeah, well, Dad's been looking at the legal side of things for the last couple of days." Emma rolled her eyes, apparently over her upset with Sophia. "I need to let off some steam."

Madison nodded. "Yeah. So, anyone seen Hebert? I've got the urge to go pull a massive prank on her."

Shit, that didn't take long. Sophia shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Not today, anyway."

“What do you mean, not today? She's been getting away from us for days now,” Emma protested. “It's like she's got a sixth sense about what we're going to do. We need to get our heads back in the game if we're gonna get her.”

Sophia repressed a grimace. I'm treading a fine line here. If I let Emma know why Buzz is off limits, I risk outing her. “Listen. I got in the shit a couple days ago, same as you. Big time. Really big time. So they're gonna be watching me extra close.”

“What do you mean, got in the shit big time?” piped up Madison. “Who's watching you?”

Oh, for fuck's sake. She's not supposed to know. “Blackwell and the teachers,” lied Sophia. “They're on some kind of kick, and I'm in their cross-hairs. If I pull anything at all, I might lose my spot on the track team. Shit, I might even get expelled.” Not that I'd even think of doing anything now. Even if she wasn't my partner, Buzz is way too fucking scary to mess with.

“What did you get caught doing?" insisted Madison. “I didn't hear about anything. You seemed okay on Friday.” She tilted her head. "Is this something to do with that thing that's happening with Emma?"

Emma and Sophia glanced at each other. Sophia could see the redhead wondering if their problems were indeed related. "Uh, no," she replied. "They didn't say anything to me about Emma at all. Anyway, can we just drop it?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Emma seemed to have the idea that Sophia's problems were to do with the Wards, so she was doing her best to cover for Sophia. "Better leave it, Mads."

“Okay, fine.” Madison didn't pout, but it was a near thing. “Be that way.” She shrugged. “Anyway, there's always after school. Once we're off school grounds, Blackwell can kiss my ass.”

“After school sounds fine to me,” Emma agreed. “We'll get her before she gets on the bus. What do you think, Sophia?”

Sophia wanted to beat her head against a wall. After school is when we're meeting Brian for the date. Fuck, were we always so fixated on tormenting Taylor like this? “ Uh, there's this thing I gotta do. Can't make it, sorry.”

Once more, she saw Emma come to the conclusion that it had to do with the Wards. Madison, of course, was oblivious. “For fuck's sake, really? You blew us off on Monday and Tuesday and now today, too. What's going on?”

Sophia gritted her teeth. Time to be the bully again. Shoving Madison against the wall, she ignored the shorter girl's shocked expression as she hissed, “What's going on is none of your fucking business. So just butt out, okay?”

“Sophia -” began Emma.

“Stay out of this, Emma,” ordered Sophia. “This is between me and Madison. I -”

“Miss Hess! Let Miss Clements go at once!”

It was Mr Gladly's voice. Sophia sighed as she released her hold on Madison and stepped back. Now they start paying fucking attention.


End of Part Three

Part Four

 

Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Part Four: When Right … is Wrong … is Right Again

[A/N: This chapter beta-read, and improved upon, by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Well, this is familiar.

Sophia sat in Principal Blackwell's outer office, under the secretary's watchful eye. Outwardly, she was calm; inside, she was feeling a level of irritation that she was finding hard to explain. I've been in trouble before. Why is this different?

It took her a few moments to figure it out, not helped by the worry that she would get detention and miss the date with Brian. A more distant worry, but just as real, was that if Piggot decided that she had overstepped her very tenuous boundaries, the rug could be pulled out from under her at any moment.

But I was trying to do the right thing, this time!

That gave her the clue; she was feeling honest indignation, not righteous indignation. She had experienced the latter emotion many times, usually over being disciplined for minor infractions. She'd been guilty of them, no doubt, but she had never considered that the crime really merited the punishment.

This time, she had definitely committed the crime, but it had been in a good cause, as opposed to the half-assed justifications she had used to convince herself that she was still a hero. Is this what they call irony? Well, if it is, it sucks. Big time.

The door to the outer office opened, and Kirsten Bright stepped through. The look she sent Sophia didn't make the girl feel any more confident about matters. Walking past her to the desk, Kirsten had a quiet word with the secretary, then came over to where Sophia sat.

Sophia tried to work this out. I didn't call her. “Did Taylor call you?” she asked quietly.

Kirsten looked down at her, lips compressed slightly. “No. The principal did.”

“Ah. Right. Listen, it's not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Kirsten sat down beside her, so that she could lower her voice to a mere whisper. “I nearly lost my job the first time when the Director found out the full extent of what you'd been getting up to before I did. I'm not going to risk that again. So I told Blackwell to call me any time you acted out in the slightest.”

“So you can get on top of things, right?” But the moment the words left her lips, Sophia knew that her guess had been incorrect.

“So that by the time Piggot gets on to me, I have a full accounting of your misdeeds, and a series of recommendations to be carried out. Up to and including having you put on trial as an adult.” The woman's tone was deadly serious, for all that it was barely audible.

“But -” There was something wrong with that setup. For one thing, it implied that -

“Make no mistake, Sophia,” Kirsten stated flatly. “I am not your friend. I am not on your side. I am not going to stick my neck out one sixteenth of an inch to save you from your richly deserved fate. You were supposed to be a reforming vigilante, in the process of becoming a well-regarded Ward, while I was supposed to check in every now and again, and make sure that you were responding well to your new situation. Except that somewhere along the line, the school decided that 'give her leeway as a Ward' meant 'sweep everything under the carpet'. So I never looked too hard at what was going on. Well, more fool me.”

Her lips twisted bitterly. “So I decided to make sure that just one foot out of line meant that you'd get what you deserved. And surprise surprise. You put a foot out of line.”

Sophia shook her head. “Like fuck I did.”

Kirsten's head jolted back, as if Sophia had slapped her. “What do you mean? Principal Blackwell rang me and said you were caught shoving another girl against the wall.”

“Yeah, and I bet she didn't say that Madison was one of the girls who used to help me bully Taylor.”

From the look in Kirsten's eyes, Sophia knew she'd scored a hit.

Still, the woman came back strongly. “That still doesn't excuse you bullying her.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “Emma and Madison don't know about Taylor being in the Wards. They tried to get me in on a prank. I tried to tell them no, Madison wouldn't back off, so I was in the middle of convincing her that it was a bad idea when Gladly walked around the corner.” She stopped talking, unwilling to give any more details. No need to bring my date with Brian into this.

Kirsten looked confused, then puzzled, then enlightened as the penny finally dropped. “You were trying to stop them from bullying Taylor …?”

“Well, duh. It's not like I can tell them that she's my new best friend without raising a whole lot of new questions about the situation. Like, how and why and where. So I just said no. But Madison wouldn't take that for an answer.”

“You could've told a teacher,” Kirsten countered. “Or the principal. Not taken matters into your own hands.”

For fuck's sake. You do know where we are, right? “This is Winslow. I snitch, it'll be around the school before lunch. And that'll out me harder than anything else. Sophia Hess as a snitch? Everyone and his dog will know that something's up. And there's one other thing.”

“Ms Bright, Miss Hess, Principal Blackwell will see you now,” announced the secretary.

Kirsten turned and held up a finger. “Sixty seconds,” she said, before returning her attention to Sophia. “Talk fast.”

“Emma's pissed at the statement I made,” Sophia said rapidly. “She wants to get Taylor too. She's gonna start connecting the dots pretty soon. Either her and Madison get made to back the fuck off, or the PRT's not gonna like what happens next. Just saying.”

“Is that a threat of some sort?” Kirsten's eyes narrowed.

Your intimidation needs work. “Fuck, no. Just letting you know that unless we do something now, they'll keep trying to get at Taylor. And with her powers, if they really manage to get her mad …” She shuddered at the thought. “I am not taking responsibility for that if it happens. Which means they need to stop or be stopped. For their own good.”

Kirsten grimaced. “Okay, then. Let's go in, and see if we can't sort out some more of your fallout.”

“Hey,” protested Sophia as she got up. “This is not my fucking fault.”

“You started it,” Kirsten said. “If it wasn't for you, would any of this be happening?”

Sophia put as much emphasis into her words as she could without actually raising her voice. “But I'm trying to fix it!”

Her handler's tone was markedly unsympathetic. “That's the only thing saving your ass right now.”

<><>​

Principal Blackwell's tone was chilly. “Sit down.”

Sophia eyed the woman unfavourably as she took a seat. The woman had a hairstyle like Piggot's on a build that was, if anything, skinnier than Taylor's. If anyone can rock the skinny look, it'll be Taylor. Give her a few years and a little more confidence, and she'll have the guys begging for dates. This bitch … not so much.

On a less personal note, Sophia also held Blackwell largely responsible for the current situation. If she'd put her foot down when Emma and me were running roughshod over Taylor, all this shit would never have happened.

Kirsten took the initiative. “Principal Blackwell,” she said, “why am I here?”

I like it. Putting her on the back foot straight away.

Blackwell stared at the woman. “You told me to call you. If Sophia Hess acted out in any way, you said. You repeated it half a dozen times.” She pointed at Sophia, making the girl want to grab the offending digit and snap it. “She acted out. I called you.”

Leaning back in her chair, Kirsten folded her arms. “And what form did this 'acting out' take?”

The principal looked confused. “I told you. She was seen shoving another girl up against the wall. I took action immediately. She was separated from the student body and I called you. Just as you instructed me.”

“And the girl she was shoving around,” Kirsten said. “Did you happen to get her name?”

“Oh, come on,” snapped Blackwell. “You personally gave me a twenty-minute lecture on how it didn't matter who we caught her bullying. Does it matter?”

“Yes, actually, it does matter.” Kirsten was studying her fingernails now. She looked up at Blackwell. “If you'd bothered to do the slightest level of due diligence, or even asked Sophia herself why she was doing it, you would've learned some important facts, and maybe even spared me a trip across town while you were at it.”

“What it God's name does it matter who she was shoving around?” said the principal. “Bullying is bullying! You yelled that at me so many times it's tattooed on my eardrums.”

“Well, for instance,” Kirsten said, “it might matter if the girl in question was one Madison Clements. One of Sophia's former partners in crime. Who, along with Emma Barnes, was attempting to solicit Sophia's aid to continue with her bullying campaign against Taylor Hebert.” She rested her fingertips against her chin and gazed placidly at Blackwell. “Do you think it might matter then?”

Blackwell's eyes flicked from Kirsten to Sophia. “Is this true?” she demanded of the teenager.

“Well, yeah,” Sophia said derisively. You fucking moron.

“Why didn't you tell us then?” Blackwell looked as though she were about to start chewing the scenery.

“I tried. You told me to shut up.” Sophia did her best to keep the indignation out of her voice. It would sound too much like whining.

“Can anyone else back your story up?”

Sophia managed to refrain from laughing in Blackwell's face, but it was a near thing. “They were talking about bullying someone. Not something you casually talk about in the middle of the corridor. No, I've got no witnesses. Except for Madison and Emma. Good luck getting them to incriminate themselves.”

A tiny germ of an idea unfolded in her mind about then. She wasn't sure where it was going, so she let it be.

“Well, unfortunately, if you've got nobody to back up your side of things, then I'm just going to have to treat it as a bullying incident,” Blackwell decided. “Mr Gladly saw you do it, after all.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” Sophia snapped. “Why the hell would I attack someone that I helped bully someone else with? It doesn't make sense.”

“It would if you wanted someone to bully, and you didn't care who,” Blackwell pointed out. “And if you don't tone down your language right now, I'll be adding that on top of the rest of it.”

So this is how Blackwell shut Taylor down so often, Sophia realised. And all this time, I thought we were just that good at staying out of trouble. It was Blackwell all the time. She's just that good at not giving a shit who's actually in the wrong, so long as she doesn't have to exert herself.

“I actually find that hard to believe,” Kirsten said bluntly. “Sophia has her issues, but she's never attacked someone she considered a friend.”

The idea opened up fully, and Sophia saw the whole thing. It was a way out, but it would not be without its costs.

“All the same,” Blackwell said, “if you've got no proof -”

Fuck it. Let's go for gold. “Actually, I've got something for you,” Sophia interrupted her. “Bring Emma Barnes and Madison Clements in here. We'll sort this out once and for all.”

“I'm not sure -” began Blackwell.

“I am,” Kirsten snapped. “If she says they're involved, then they're involved. And your Mr Gladly, too. So he can verify that they were there.”

“I really don't think -” Blackwell tried again.

Kirsten stood up. “You either do this, or I place a phone call to Director Piggot explaining exactly how obstructive you're being, and we start expediting the transfer of both Wards to Arcadia.”

That hit home, hard. Sophia had known that having a Ward in the school meant extra funding, but she wasn't sure how much. Looking at Blackwell now, she decided that there had to be a few zeroes involved.

“Okay, fine,” the principal huffed. “I'll get it done.”

“Good.” Kirsten sat down again. “No time like the present.”

Blackwell gave her an irritated look. Kirsten didn't seem to notice, or perhaps she just didn't care.

<><>​

Emma was the first to enter the office, followed by Mr Gladly. Madison trailed along behind.

“What's going on here?” Predictably, Emma went on the attack straight away, once she saw Sophia. Especially once she saw Kirsten. That had to have rung all sorts of alarm bells in her head. “Where's my dad?”

“Your father isn't required at this meeting,” Blackwell said wearily. “You aren't being accused of anything.” She glanced at Kirsten. “Is she?”

Sophia shook her head, causing Blackwell's irritated expression to crank itself up a notch. “Nope. I just want to deliver a message. But first; Mr Gladly. Can you confirm that she's the one I was shoving around in the halls, earlier? And that she was there too?” She pointed at Madison and Emma in turn.

Gladly looked at Sophia, then at the principal. Blackwell glowered at the Ward, then reluctantly nodded. “Answer the question.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “They were both there. Sophia was shoving Madison against the wall pretty hard.”

From the look on the principal's face, she'd been hoping he would deny it. “Thank you, Mr Gladly. You may go.”

With one confused look over his shoulder, the World Affairs teacher let himself out. Sophia had heard that he was easy to distract from what they'd do to Taylor, but right now she kind of wished that he'd been a hardass about the whole thing. If he had, I might not be sitting here right now.

“What's this about?” asked Emma again.

Sophia took a deep breath. “Emma. Everyone here knows that we all used to bully Taylor Hebert. That finishes now. It's over. It's done. It never happens again. Got it?”

Madison's eyes went wide. Emma stared at Sophia, but recovered fast. “I've got no idea what you're talking about.” She looked at Blackwell. “I'd like to go back -”

Fine, hardball it is. “Emma. I'm the one who made the statement to the police about what we used to do to Taylor. The one they're giving you a hard time about. It was me. I was there. I saw everything. I helped you. Now stop playing dumb and understand this. It. Is. Done.”

“What the fuck?” burst out Madison. “You made that statement? Why the fuck did you do that?”

Wow, cute little Madison thinks she can swear. Who knew? Sophia was actually kind of amused at that.

Emma turned on the petite girl. “Mads, shut up,” she hissed. Standing up, she returned her attention to Blackwell. “I'm not going to sit here and be accused unless my dad's here as well.”

“I'm not accusing you of shit,” Sophia snapped. “I know you did it. They know you did it. But everything you did is already in the statement. That's being dealt with. What I'm saying is, quit it. I'm this close to going to juvey as it is.” She held up her hand with thumb and forefinger a hair apart. “And if anything happens to Hebert, it splashes back on me. And if that happens, I'll know who's really to blame.”

“Sophia, we're friends,” Emma said, trying for a sweet tone. “I'm sure you don't mean that. I'd hate for your social worker there to hear some of the rumours that might get out and about …”

“Already told her,” Sophia retorted.

She blinked, taken properly aback for the first time that she'd entered the room. “What? The guy on the roof …?”

Sophia wanted to grimace. Once, not long after she had met Emma, she'd taken the other girl out on patrol. In order to impress Emma, she had tried to pull a move with a Merchants thug that involved dangling him off a roof to get answers. It had gone wrong, spectacularly so.

“She told me,” Kirsten confirmed. “And the rest of it.”

“Wait, what guy on what roof?” asked Madison.

Kirsten and Sophia spoke at the same time. “You don't need to know.” Sophia looked back to Emma. “That's it. It's really simple. Leave Taylor Hebert alone. Got it?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Well, I don't even know what you're going on about. I've never done anything to her anyway, so leaving her alone's gonna be real easy.”

“Good,” Sophia said flatly. “Make sure you remember it.” She was tempted to add I know where you live, but she had a suspicion that both Kirsten and Blackwell might object.

As it was, it looked like Emma already had that in mind; the redhead had paled slightly. “Can we go now?” she asked, not quite meekly, but with far less of the defiance that she'd had when she entered the office.

“You can,” agreed Blackwell. “Go straight back to class.”

Sophia wanted to add and don't tell anyone what happened, but she suspected that this might make them more likely to talk about it. As it was, she figured she had a fifty-fifty chance that they'd stay quiet.

I guess I'm gonna have to live with those odds.

The door closed behind the two girls, and Kirsten looked at Blackwell. “I'm satisfied. Are you?”

Blackwell gave her an irritated look. “If I say yes, will you get out of my office?”

Kirsten wasn't finished. “And Sophia doesn't get in trouble?”

Sophia blinked. Holy shit, she's actually backing me up.

The expression on the principal's face suggested that she'd been sucking on a whole crate full of lemons. “This time. She's free to go.”

And don't you fucking forget it.

The temptation to give Blackwell the finger on the way out the door was very strong, but Sophia managed to resist the impulse.

<><>​

They paused outside the outer office. Kirsten turned to Sophia. “You were in the right this time, but don't -” She stopped as her phone rang. Frowning, she dug it out of her pocket and answered it. “Kirsten Bright here. Oh – hello, Director.”

On the verge of walking off, Sophia stopped and turned. If Piggy's calling Kirsten, then this is some kind of important.

“Yes – yes, the matter was resolved. No, she's not in trouble. She was trying to – oh, you already know? How -? Oh, she called you?”

For a moment, Sophia wondered who 'she' was, until she saw several flies performing an intricate mid-air ballet in front of her face. Taylor. Duh.

It took her a moment to realise that she'd automatically assumed that Taylor would actually defend her and not try to screw her over. For all that she was expecting it, it still gave her a weird feeling. Someone's actually on my side in all this. She wasn't including Kirsten; the 'social worker' had been willing to throw her to the wolves until Sophia got a word in edgewise.

Kirsten finished the call, then put her phone away. “That was … odd.”

“Taylor called your boss?” Sophia grinned; she loved it when she guessed right.

“Well, yes.” Kirsten frowned. “She apparently saw what was happening and made the call. Just to let the Director know that something was going on.”

Sophia would have bet that there was more to it, but she decided not to push it. This time. “So I'm not in trouble?”

“It appears not.” Kirsten's voice was dry. “But let's try not to have a repeat performance any time soon, shall we?”

Sophia gave her a direct look. “You do your job, I'll do mine.”

Now it was Kirsten who looked as though she'd bitten into something sour. “I suppose that's the best I can hope for.”

<><>​

Taylor

“Hey.” As Sophia made room on the bus seat for me, I slid in beside her.

“Hey yourself,” she replied with a crooked grin. “I heard what you did for me.”

“Moi?” I acted surprised. “I didn't do anything. Okay, I might've made a phone call, but that was totally innocent.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Innocent. I guess I had it handled, but yeah, it was appreciated anyway. Just in case someone got the wrong idea.”

“So is it all settled?” I asked, digging in my backpack.

“For now. Hopefully.” She sighed. “I had to tell Emma about the statement so she'd get off your fucking back. I was hoping not to have to go there.”

“Let me guess,” I said, handing her the tracking bracelet. “She said she knew nothing about anything?”

Lifting her foot on to the seat, she pulled up her jeans leg. I leaned forward to make sure nobody saw as she snapped the bracelet on and pulled the jeans down again. “To hear her say it, she was pure as the driven snow. Oh, and then she threatened me with that other shit. Thanks for that, by the way. I was able to look her in the eye and tell her to fuck off.”

I gave her a halfway grin. “That's why it's called damage control. How did Blackwell take it?”

Sophia grimaced. “Didn't want to know about my side of it. Thank fuck I was able to talk Kirsten around.”

I nodded. “That's good. So, you ready to talk some more about our issues?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No. Can I stop you?”

I grinned. “Nope.”

<><>​

I looked at her with concern. "You didn't have to wear the skates, you know."

She continued to struggle along with the roller-blades. "You know me. I don't like to lose. Even if it hurts."

This wasn't an argument I was going to win. “So, on the subject of hurting, did you really enjoy hurting me, or was it something that you told yourself that you should be enjoying?”

I skated in an arc around Sophia while I waited for the answer. The dark-skinned girl, still not all that steady on her own roller-blades, concentrated on staying upright.

“I guess … hurting you wasn't the point, but it was something that happened along the way.” She paused for a moment.

“A means to an end?” I suggested.

“Yeah, something like that,” she said. “The idea was to push you down, make sure you knew where you were supposed to be. If you got hurt because you didn't know your place, tough shit.”

“But why?” I swung around and matched my pace to hers. “Why push me down in the first place? Why pick me?”

“Emma needed to be strong,” she said slowly. “She needed someone to be stronger than.”

I nodded. “Thus the Nazi shit.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, that.” I could tell that she still didn't like being compared to being a Nazi. “So when I saw you, and how you let me push you around, I decided that you were too weak, too wimpy to belong in my world. In Emma's world.”

“Just like that.” My voice was flat.

“Just like that,” she agreed. “Of course, I had no idea what I was fucking talking about. I know that now.”

The aggrieved tone of her voice made me grin. “Let me guess. You've been getting hit in the face by everything you used to do to me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you have no fucking idea. I wish there was a cape who could send people back in time. I'd go back to when I first met you, and I'd kick the shit out of myself. Every time I think I can finally relax, I find out I've sabotaged myself fucking again.”

“That's gotta suck,” I said, almost managing to sound sympathetic. Though it would have been interesting to watch Shadow Stalker from the future beat up her past version.

“Yeah. It does.” She huffed a sigh. “Can we change the fucking subject now please?”

I was impressed. She'd managed to swear and say 'please' in the same statement. “Sure. About Madison. What the fuck's up with her?”

“She's a brown-noser who sucks up to whoever's strongest around her,” Sophia said promptly. “Pretty sure she's got a crush on Emma.”

I blinked. “She's gay?” Not that there was anything wrong about that, but I just hadn't thought it was Madison's style.

Sophia snorted. “Fuck, no. She's just got a crush. That's different – mostly. Though it's still a bit creepy.”

I thought about that for a moment. “ … yeah, I guess that makes a kind of sense.” Then I began to chuckle as something else occurred to me.

She glanced at me warily. “What's so funny?”

“Well, if she sucks up to whoever's strongest … that means she probably had a crush on you, too,” I explained with a grin.

Sophia recoiled so hard she almost fell over. “What? Fuck, no!”

I started to laugh, to the point where I had to grab on to the rail to stay upright. Sophia glared at me, apparently unable to see the funny side of things. “It's not funny!” she insisted. “And it's not true anyway.”

“Really?” I giggled, wiping tears away from my eyes. “So you've never seen her staring wistfully at you, just hoping that you would notice her for herself …” I started laughing again, hanging on to the rail.

“Shut up,” she muttered. “Just shut up.”

“That's not a no,” I teased her.

She glared at me. “Just shut up, okay?”

“Shut up about what?” It was Brian's voice.

We both looked around; he stood there, wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Beside him, Aisha smirked at us both. She was dressed slightly more modestly than the previous time we'd met, but only by a matter of degree. A small matter of degree.

“Nothing.” Sophia answered his question, shooting me a warning look. I answered it with a grin. “Personal stuff. Something that should never see the light of day. Ever.”

“If you say so.” Brian sounded amused. “So, you ready for the date?”

“Wait a minute,” interjected his sister. “I wanna hear more about this stuff that should never see the light of day. This sounds interesting.”

I rolled toward her slightly. “Well, tell you what. If you don't make yourself too much of a pain, I might give you a hint or two.”

Sophia shook her head. “Don't you dare!”

Amused, I looked at her over my glasses. “You've got a date with a hunky guy. I'm keeping Aisha company. Wanna trade?”

She flung up her hands, then grabbed for the rail as her skates threatened to roll from under her. “Fine. You win.”

Aisha grinned at me. “I'll take that deal.”

Brian helped Sophia to a bench, where she began to take her skates off. I heard him stage-whisper to her, “Don't worry. She's never managed to be good for that long before.”

“Always a first time,” sang out Aisha.

Sophia groaned and put her face in her hands.



End of Part Four

Part Five

 

Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Part Five: Bonding Time



[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Sophia

The moment Aisha had Sophia's skates on, she slapped Taylor on the shoulder and yelled, “Tag!” Before Taylor could react, the younger girl darted off, cackling gleefully. Sophia watched as Taylor sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had to hand it to Taylor; had it been her, Sophia would've been after Aisha without even thinking about it.

Taylor turned to Sophia and Brian. “Will you two be okay for a moment without me?” she asked. Sophia picked up on the subtext without any problem at all; Taylor was asking if she could be trusted to not make a run for it. Not that Taylor wouldn't have bugs on her already, but it was the thought that counted.

“Sure, go ahead.” Sophia nodded, meeting Taylor's gaze. I'm good, right here. Subtly, she inclined her head toward Brian. Besides, if I screw up now, I don't get to go on any more dates. If she hadn't been certain that the original encounter was an accident, she might've wondered if Taylor had set up the whole 'meeting Brian' thing to convince her to behave more. The ever-present threat of being sent back to juvey was a potent stick, but Brian made one hell of a carrot. So to speak.

“Cool. Back in a second.” With a clatter of wheels on wood, Taylor zipped off in pursuit of the overly-exuberant Aisha. Sophia watched her weaving through the afternoon crowd with mild envy; it wasn't fair that she was so good on them. Beside her, she heard a sigh that seemed to echo her thoughts.

Turning, she tilted her her head up to look at Brian's expression. “What's the matter? And how've you been, anyway?” She wasn't quite sure how to analyse what she felt about Brian. Up until now, her love life had been essentially non-existent. Between tormenting Taylor, hanging with Emma and Madison in and out of school, tormenting Taylor, her track work, tormenting Taylor and her Wards duties, she hadn't had enough time to notice boys socially, let alone do anything about them.

“I'm fine. I've been good.” Unaware of her inner monologue, he pointed with a chuckle as Aisha ducked the wrong way and Taylor tagged her. “It's just nice, you know? To have someone else to help Aisha blow off steam. She's got attention span issues, and … well, problems at home. So I'm glad you brought Taylor along.”

“Oh, really?” she asked sarcastically. “Should I have stayed at home then, and just sent her on her own? Because that's what I'm hearing.” Raising her eyebrows, she stared up at him challengingly.

“Oh, shit.” He sounded a little shocked. “No, no, I didn't mean that at all. It's good to see you. It really is. You look wonderful. I was just saying that, because I can't not bring Aisha along, I'm glad that you let Taylor come with you, so we could have our date without having to worry about my bratty little sister spoiling it for us.” His expression was hopeful as he finished his spiel.

She decided to award him bonus points for trying, though it was darkly amusing that he had zero idea as to who had allowed whom to come along. And she could definitely stand to hear more about how wonderful she looked. Those sort of compliments usually went to Emma, not her. Leaning up, she kissed him on the cheek. “Nice save, big boy,” she murmured. “If you keep it up, I might have to take you seriously.”

He looked a little taken aback, but she wasn't sure whether it was for the kiss or the comment. Either way was good; she decided she like having him off-guard. She got the nicest compliments that way. Linking her arm through his, which elicited another startled look, she nodded toward where Taylor was on her way back toward them, with Aisha in hot pursuit. “So, wanna make a start? From what I've seen of Aisha, they'll be at this for a while.”

He made an amused sound. “Oh, Aisha'll do this all day, until Taylor pulls her up. I think she's needed a friend like Taylor for the longest time. Someone who's willing to be a little bit silly with her, but who'll pull her up short when it's necessary.” Starting off alongside her, he took two steps before looking down at her in concern. “You're limping. Are you okay?”

Silently, Sophia consigned Oni Lee to the darkest depths of the PRT's dungeons. Or secure holdings, whichever worked better. “It's nothing. Just a bit banged up.”

He stopped and turned to face her, his expression and tone full of concern. “If you're limping, it's more than 'a bit banged up'. Are you okay? What happened?”

She tried not to grimace in annoyance. The date had barely started, and she didn't want it to go downhill like this. He was obviously concerned for her welfare, which made her feel good. But he wasn't going to let this go, which made her not so thrilled. Goddamn it, why couldn't he be as oblivious as Clockblocker or Kid Win? “It's nothing, really. I—”

Taylor skidded to a halt next to them, an irrepressible grin on her face and her eyes alight with amusement. “Hey, guys. Everything okay?”

“Sophia's limping,” Brian said without taking his eyes from Sophia's face. “I was just wondering who I was going to have to punch the crap out of for it.”

Oh, man. Now I can't even be pissed with him about this. Why couldn't I have met a guy like this a year ago?

“Oh, that's easy,” Taylor said immediately. “I was getting picked on by this ABB guy and his buddies, and Sophia objected kinda strenuously. You should've seen her. She was badass. I mean, I helped where I could, but she did most of it. Left them wondering what the hell hit them. They got arrested and everything.” She beamed at Sophia, who blinked a few times. Whatever Taylor had been about to say, she hadn't expected that.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, in response to Brian's questioning look. “That's basically what happened.” Except that it was Oni Lee, not some random guys, and he was trying to kill her … huh. The rest of it's basically true. Never knew Taylor could spin a line like that. Her respect for the bug controller went up another couple of notches.

“Holy shit!” crowed Aisha, who'd been trying to sneak up on Taylor and failing. “That's awesome. Sophia, you're now officially allowed to date Brian. High-five, sister!” She held up her palm expectantly.

Feeling bemused, Sophia gave her the expected high-five. “So wait, what's been going on before this point if you're only just now giving permission?”

Aisha lifted her chin and made a throw-away gesture. “Oh, that was just a trial period. You had a certain amount of time to convince me that you're worth letting Bri date you. Otherwise, not a chance in hell.”

Brian frowned, staring at his sister. “Seriously, Aish. As the older brother, I get to vet your dates, not the other way around.”

“Pfft, as if,” Aisha stated dismissively. “You're a guy. Guys got no judgement in stuff like this. There's any number of psycho bitches around Brockton Bay. I'd be, uh, what's the word? Something to do with duty? Not doin' it right?”

“Neglecting?” offered Taylor, her mouth quirking with suppressed laughter.

“Yeah, that's the one. I'd be neglecting my sisterly duty if I didn't check out your dates and make sure they aren't about to rip your heart out and stomp all over it.” Aisha blithely gestured toward Sophia. “But hey, she passes. You can date her. See what a good sister I am?”

Brian shook his head slowly, but Sophia thought she caught the hint of a grin on his face. “Aisha, I can tell that we're gonna need to have a long talk about boundaries sometime. But not right now. Right now, I want to get back to the date.” He held out his arm to Sophia. “Shall we go?”

An unaccustomed grin spread itself over Sophia's face as she took the offered arm. “Let's do this thing.”

<><>​

Taylor

“Fuck those ABB assholes, am I right?” Aisha wasn't dashing around as madly as before; she and I were paralleling Sophia and Brian as they strolled along the Boardwalk. “I heard Oni Lee got taken down yesterday, so they're all out of capes now.”

“Yeah, I heard that too,” I agreed, impressed that Aisha was so well-informed about gang events. “Maybe now the cops can roll up the regular gang members.” I didn't really think that they'd hold out for long in Brockton Bay without Lung and his cape minions to back them up, but a little assistance from the BBPD surely couldn't hurt. “So what did Brian decide to go see this time?”

Aisha shrugged elaborately, then glanced over at where Sophia and Brian were deep in conversation. “I got zero fuckin' idea. But I'm glad Soph didn't get scared off the first time. Bri doesn't get to meet many girls. I can't even remember the last time he went on one date, let alone a second one.”

I stared at her, then over at Brian's tall manly figure. Sophia wasn't short, but next to him she looked positively petite. “You have to be shitting me,” I said slowly. “Why is he not fending off girls with a stick?”

She looked briefly uncomfortable. “Well, he's trynna fix my home situation, and there's the work he's got. I mean, he knows other girls from work, but they aren't his type and he isn't theirs. And outside of work, he's too busy with his other shit.”

“Damn,” I muttered, then looked away from him before he caught me staring. “So, uh, does that mean he's likely to lose interest in her?” I'd asked the question in concern that if he dropped Sophia, I'd have that emotional shit to deal with along with all the rest of it, but a moment later I realised how it sounded. “I mean, is he likely to break her heart?” Truth be told, I wouldn't have minded him paying that sort of attention to me, but not at Sophia's expense.

After a sharp glance at me, Aisha seemed to accept that I was asking the question in genuine concern for Sophia's well-being. “Nah, I can't see it. When Bri takes something up, he does it full-on. Now, if she breaks his heart, I'mma carve her liver out with a rusty spoon. Just saying.” Her tone was totally serious, for all that she looked ludicrously adorable making the threat.

“Don't have to worry about that,” I assured her. “Sophia's very dedicated about things. Even if Brian was a bad idea for her, I'd still have a hell of a time convincing her of that. And just between you and me, I don't think so. I mean, shit, she's smiled more often since she met him than in all the time I've known her.” Smiled in a nice way, I meant. Not in a bitchy way. Of course, her bitchy smile quotient was effectively zero since I'd smacked her upside the head with my baton. Funny how that worked.

Aisha raised her eyebrows at that. “Huh. You really are looking out for her, aren't you? What'd she do, sacrifice herself for you in a previous life or something? Or were you two bumping uglies before she met Brian?”

“No!” I protested. “We're just friends. I mean, there's nothing wrong with that, but no. That's not us. We're just … we've been through a lot together. It's complicated.” I tried to even visualise me and Sophia in that sort of relationship, and my brain came to a screeching halt. Not just nope, but hell nope. Even if either of us was that way inclined, there was way too much baggage between us to make it work.

“Woo!” she cackled as she sat down on a bench to take off her skates. By way of explanation, she pointed at a side-street that led off the Boardwalk. “The movie place is that way. Shortcut.”

“Oh.” I sat beside her and started unlacing my skates too. “Anyway, 'woo'? What's with that? I didn't say anything weird, did I?”

She grinned at me. “There's something you're not telling me, isn't there? I can tell. I mean, apart from the way you're so goddamn nobly holding back from trynna grab Brian all for yourself. There's some sorta stuff goin' on between you and Soph, isn't there? What is it? You guys exes?”

“You just don't give up, do you?” I sighed. “No, Sophia and I have never been in a relationship. It's different from that. And a lot more complicated than I'm willing to try to explain right now.” Taking my pack off, I started stowing my skates inside.

“I notice you didn't say anything about you and Brian,” she said slyly as she handed me Sophia's skates as well. She didn't say any more, but I got the distinct impression that she was deriving way too much amusement from the situation.

My face started getting hot. “Pretty sure it's not something we should be talking about.”

“What's not something we should be talking about?” It was Brian's voice, sounding amused. Aisha and I turned to watch him approach with Sophia. They were holding hands now, as opposed to just having their arms linked together.

“What Sophia and I were talking about earlier,” I said hastily. “Sophia, wanna take your skates back?” Standing up, I offered them to her.

She wrinkled her nose as she took them. “No, but I guess I should,” she admitted. Letting go of Brian's hand, she shrugged her backpack off and started to shove the skates inside.

“You really don't like rollerblading, do you?” Brian asked her, assisting her by holding the pack open. “I mean, Taylor's pretty good, but you're struggling with it. Why not just give it up? I mean, nobody's gonna think any worse of you for it. You've given it an honest try.”

Sophia glanced briefly at me, and I could see the struggle in her eyes. What he was saying was perfectly logical, but he didn't know about our 'homework' with Mrs Yamada. The problem was, how was she to tell him about the therapy without either exposing the whole deal or digging ourselves deeper into lies?

“It's real simple,” she said as we started down the side-street. “I don't like to lose. Taylor wanted to take up rollerblading, so I took it up too. So what if I am shit at it? That just means I gotta try harder. Just because she's done it before and I haven't doesn't mean I can't learn how. I am gonna get good at it, just so someday I can say 'fuck you' to these skates before I chuck 'em in the ocean or something.”

“Huh.” Brian shook his head. “Well, you're a lot more stubborn than me, I'll say that much.”

Aisha snorted audibly, her expression the picture of sheer disbelief. I looked at her with interest; she rolled her eyes toward her brother, then shook her head.

Having caught the byplay as Aisha had probably intended, Brian turned toward her. “Shush, you.”

She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. Sophia smirked at her antics, but I wasn't smiling any more. As a matter of course, I had bugs on everyone within a block. Not only was it good practice at using my powers—and figuring out stuff about people from a distance—but it kept me apprised of potential unwelcome surprises. Of which there were several nearby.

I didn't have a huge swarm ready to hit them with, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to tip my hand like that anyway. The flies and other bugs I had on them indicated that they were armed with nothing more lethal than knives and short lengths of pipe. I counted six overall, with two of them significantly shorter and lighter than the others. That, and their clothing, indicated to me that those two were women.

I had useful information, but my trouble was that I didn't know how to warn Sophia without tipping off Brian and Aisha that we were capes. I could've just said that going this way was a bad idea, but if I had no good reason for doing so, it would just look and sound strange. Which left option C: spring the trap, then hold them off long enough for Brian and Aisha to get away. I had no doubt that Sophia and I could disengage afterward, given subtle uses of our powers, but there was no sense in not stacking the deck. Moving casually, I reached into my pocket and palmed my pepper spray canister. I'd been carrying one ever since Dad became concerned at my early-morning runs; it hadn't done me so well against Lung, but these guys weren't Lung.

Sophia eyed me suspiciously, then glanced around, eyes darting from point to point. Our would-be muggers were just drifting into the side-street from alleys and doorways, closing in to surround us. As yet, they weren't showing actual intent, but that was just a facade. Flies sitting on their pulse points were registering increased heart rates, and hands in pockets were clutching weapons. These guys meant business.

“Uh, guys,” Sophia said. “Maybe this isn't the best place—”

She was interrupted by the sound of a switchblade clicking into place. “Actually, yeah, it is.” The speaker was a bit taller than the other muggers, but he looked no less dishevelled. He also had the habit of waving his blade in a lazy figure-eight as he talked.

“Oh, shit.” That was Brian, his voice barely a murmur, as he looked around. The six were well spread out, holding their weapons openly now. “Girls, when I say run, you run, got it?”

Jesus Christ. I barely held back from rolling my eyes. Save me from white knights. I had a lot of respect for Brian, but he was treating us as people who needed to be saved.

“Not fuckin' likely,” Sophia murmured. “We leave you, they'll dogpile you for sure.”

Brian's voice was agonised. “Yeah, but—”

“Stop fuckin' talking!” The leader of the bunch of muggers stomped forward. Aisha and I were on his side; I stepped in front of her, my left shoulder toward him. He grabbed me by the upper arm and yanked at me to get me away from the group. That was fine with me; I brought my right hand up across my body and gave him a dose of pepper-spray in the face from about one foot away. At the same time, a tiny swarm of flies swept between him and me, collecting all the droplets of spray that might otherwise have reached my face. They were there and gone in an instant, too fast for anyone but me to notice.

As he screamed and let my arm go to claw at his face, I slipped the pack off my shoulder and swung it at arms' length; the weight of my skates slammed into the middle of his chest, knocking him off balance and on to his ass. The muggers stared and a couple stepped back, but the others came forward, raising their weapons. As a continuation of my action, I sent a stream of pepper-spray at the next closest one, who backpedalled hastily. He didn't get as concentrated a dose as the first one had, but it was enough to make him cough and choke and rub at his eyes.

Which was what I wanted. “Aisha!” I snapped. “Go! Get help!” With my free hand, I pointed down the side-street, through the gap I'd just opened up. Needing no more urging than that, she took off down the street like a greyhound out of the gate. I doubted very much that she could bring back help in time to affect the fight but that had never been my intention. Getting her out of the middle of the fight was the best thing for everyone; now we could concentrate on kicking ass.

Behind me, Brian slipped a knife slash and kicked one of his opponents viciously under the kneecap. Sophia was up against a guy with a pipe and a girl with a knife; even without being able to access her powers, she was able to duck aside from a swing with the pipe and shove that guy into the girl. I reached into a side pocket of the pack and pulled out the same extendible baton that I'd smacked Sophia upside the head with, once upon a time. Dropping the pack, I flicked the baton out and moved to intercept Brian's other opponent from coming up behind him. At the same time, I kept track of where Aisha was.

Mentally, I swore. The second guy I'd gotten had decided to go after her; while his eyes were obviously troubling him, I hadn't sprayed him hard enough to put him down. I gathered the bunch of bees I'd been able to gather and sent them arrowing down after him. Raising my arm, I brought the baton down on the shoulder of Brian's second opponent. I was pretty sure I hadn't broken anything major, but she let out a screech of pain and dropped her knife. For good measure, I kicked her behind the knee to put her on the ground.

And just in time, too; Sophia's two opponents were bigger than her and had greater reach, and she wasn't moving as lithely as normal, due to the injuries Oni Lee had inflicted on her. “I got this one!” I yelled at Brian, stomping on the hand of the woman I'd just put down. Moving up alongside Brian, I confronted the guy he'd kicked under the kneecap, who was limping forward and pointing a knife at me. Aisha had stopped momentarily to look back before realising that the guy was still after her; now she was running again, but he'd closed the lead considerably.

I had to save her in a way that looked natural. When Aisha ran past a bunch of garbage cans, I hoped that she'd push one over to get in his way, but she didn't. However, that gave me an idea. As he came level with the same cans, I brought two swarms into action. One was a bunch of cockroaches, racing out from the cans and across the alley in front of him. He didn't see them, but then, he didn't have to. His foot landed right in the middle of the flat, slippery chitinous bodies, and he skidded, flailing. One arm hit a can, knocking the lid off of it. That was all I needed.

The guy on Sophia had dropped his pipe and grabbed her from behind, while the girl came from in front with obviously murderous intent. Brian ignored the guy that I was facing off to go save Sophia, which was my intent. Sophia managed to fend her off once with a kick, but her injured leg wasn't able to strike as high or with as much force, and the girl realised that quickly. But by the time she did realise it, Brian was there.

I feinted with a kick, then brought the baton down on the guy's knife hand as hard as I could. I was pretty sure that I heard bone crack, and he let out a howl of pain. Even as the knife hit the ground, I was stepping in to hit him again, around the collarbone region. This time, I did hear bone crack, and the asshole lurched backward away from me. Around about the same time, I heard the impact as Brian pile-drove the girl threatening Sophia into the ground.

As Aisha fled from her attacker, help was already on the way. The bees I'd brought in swooped down along the wall of the building, then up between the garbage cans, as if they'd been disturbed by the guy. He was halfway to his feet when the first one stung him, and he promptly forgot all about chasing Aisha. She had the presence of mind to dart to one side and hide behind a dumpster as he ran past with the angry bees chasing him; his pained yelps faded into the distance.

I moved up alongside Brian, baton at the ready. The guy holding Sophia backed up, eyeing us both, holding an arm across Sophia's neck. I could see her seething, just itching to use her power and fade out of his grasp, but unwilling to do it with witnesses.

“Let her go and we might not break too many bones,” Brian offered, his entire bearing suggesting that he was willing to break a great many bones if Sophia was hurt. His fists were clenched and he was demonstrating a really good skill at looming.

“Back off!” gasped the guy holding her. “Back off or I'll—ah! Bitch!”

His pained shout came from the fact that Sophia had apparently gotten her second wind; a stamp on the guy's foot coincided with an elbow in the ribs. She twisted in his grip, almost getting free. That 'almost' in this case was enough of an opening for Brian; he stepped in, his fist launching forward like a freight train. Sophia saw it coming and at the last moment she tilted her head sideways, giving his fist just enough room to skim past her neck and impact the guy solidly in the chops.

Her captor staggered back, his grip loosening, and she pulled all the way free. Her elbow smashed back into his throat and put him on the ground for good; he lay there, feebly clutching at his neck and making rasping noises. But he was breathing, so I guessed that would be good enough.

Brian looked around, shaking out his hands and moving from foot to foot, ready to continue the fight. But the fight seemed to be over. In fact, the only ones left were the guy I'd sprayed first and the one Sophia had elbowed. “You okay?” Brian asked Sophia, a little belatedly.

She didn't seem to mind. “Sure. Good hit there. Thanks.”

“Hey, not a problem.” He reached out and brushed some of her hair back behind her ear. Then he looked around, eyes widening. “Shit! Aisha!”

“Not to worry,” I said, pointing. “She's fine.” And sure enough, Aisha was making her way back toward us, looking rather pleased with herself.

“Oh, thank God.” He turned toward me as I retrieved my pack and slid the baton back into the side pocket. “That was pretty quick thinking there. You came prepared, I guess.”

I gave him a half-shrug, pleased at the compliment. “Hey, I live in Brockton Bay.”

“And that about says it all. Should we call the cops on 'em?” Sophia's question had several layers to it. I could tell that she didn't want to disrupt the date by securing the muggers and waiting for law enforcement. Nor did she want to have to worry about filling out incident forms once we got back to base. Even talking to the cops in our civilian identities would eventually get back to Director Piggot and Deputy Director Renick, and if we hadn't crossed all the t's and dotted all the i's, they'd be asking us why.

The bottom line was that if we called the cops, the date was a total loss. If we didn't … well, these guys had learned the hard way not to mug people in side streets. And after Sophia had saved my life, I didn't want to pull that shit on her.

“Dunno,” I mused as Aisha came up to us. “What do you think, Brian?”

He looked down at the battered and beaten muggers. “Well, given that they're not really gonna give us any more trouble, is there any real reason to bother the cops?”

Sophia shrugged. “I can't see one.” She looked at him appraisingly. “You handled yourself pretty well there. Sure you aren't one of the Wards in disguise? Aegis, maybe?”

“Hah, you can't talk,” he replied in good humour as we continued on our way. “You and Taylor were pretty badass there yourself. Sure you aren't a superhero, Taylor?”

Aisha began to giggle as I posed, flexing what little muscle I had. “Sure,” I proclaimed in as deep a voice as I could manage. “I'm Armsmaster, can't you tell.” Hamming it up, I looked from side to side suspiciously. “Where's my halberd? Have you seen my halberd?”

As Aisha began to laugh out loud, Brian looked at Sophia. “And I suppose you're Alexandria?”

Grinning, Sophia rolled her eyes. “Well, duh,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “Who else has a body like this one?” She flexed as well. Unlike me, she had curves and muscles both; I looked on with a certain amount of envy. Brian was also looking, but I was pretty sure it wasn't out of envy. Aisha broke off from her cackling to add a wolf-whistle, which started me laughing in turn.

“Which reminds me,” Sophia said, stepping right up to Brian. Reaching out, she took hold of his lower jaw between thumb and forefinger. “Next time we're faced with shit like this, you might want to consider that you're not the only one who can kick ass and take names. Got it?”

Brian just stared at her for a long moment; I suspected that Sophia was the first person who'd ever called him out like that. “I, uh, yeah,” he agreed. “Sure. Any time.”

“Good boy,” she purred, a rather predatory smile spreading over her face. Hooking a finger into the front of his shirt, she pulled him down to her level and planted a firm kiss on his lips. “Maybe you can learn after all.”

The look of stunned surprise on his face as she let him go was utterly priceless. Aisha seemed to think so too, because she burst out laughing. I was grinning all over my face as I gave Sophia a high-five.

“Okay,” I smirked, “now that that's over, shall we go see that movie?”

Aisha pumped her fist in the air. “Fuckin' A.”



End of Part Five

Part Six

 

Confrontation II: the Reckoning

Part Six: At Long Last

[A/N: this chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Boardwalk

“Well, that was fun,” declared Aisha as we exited the movie theatre. “When are we doing it again?”

I hesitated and shared a glance with Sophia. “Uh, when we can get the time, I guess,” I hedged. Deputy Director Renick had given us permission to go to the movies on this particular occasion, and we’d all had a good time—despite the fact that Aisha plus a bucket of popcorn was a disaster in the making—but there was no guarantee that he’d be equally accommodating in future.

“No, not the movie,” Aisha corrected impudently. “Beating up muggers. That was hella fun.”

Brian facepalmed with the realisation of what she was talking about. “Aisha, you didn’t beat up any of the muggers. You ran away, like we told you to.”

“Yeah, but that was because I knew you needed the practice,” she said with a cheeky grin. “I didn’t want to scare ‘em away before you had the chance to get at them.”

I was left blinking and shaking my head at the sheer effrontery of the girl. “That’s just … I honestly don’t know what to say to that.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m just too damn awesome for words,” Aisha boasted.

“You’re too something for words,” muttered Brian, fumbling with his shirt collar. “I swear, I’ve still got popcorn down my neck.”

“Wow, that was careless of you, big bro.” Aisha turned guileless eyes toward us. “Aren’t you supposed to eat popcorn, not shove it down your collar? I think Brian’s been doing it wrong all this time.”

I started to chuckle helplessly. Sophia grabbed Aisha around the neck—gently—and applied her knuckles to the top of the younger girl’s head in a noogie. As Aisha shrieked and giggled and flailed, I met Brian’s eyes. My grin was mirrored on his face. I got the impression that he was having as much fun as I was, and that he had as much trouble achieving this state as I did.

Sophia was an entirely unexpected ally in this, but definitely not unwelcome. The personality clash between her and Aisha could’ve been serious, but she’d chosen to forego her usual hard-charging attitude and it had paid off in spades. It was nice hanging around Brian, and Aisha made sure life was never boring. The friendship I was rebuilding with Sophia in consequence was different to what we’d had before, but still rewarding.

And of course there was the budding romance between Brian and Sophia. Part of me wanted to be jealous, but Brian only had eyes for Sophia, so I didn’t really have a chance. He was friendly enough to me, but more in a big-brother way rather than a potential-boyfriend way. As serious as he was, I was pretty sure he didn’t have a wandering eye.

In a very real way, I was actually pleased about this. Brian was a good guy. He cared about Aisha; the quality of his clothing indicated a well-paying job; he was well-educated, good-looking and (ahem) very athletic. In short, he was a keeper. Sophia hadn’t had many chances for happiness in her life, and I didn’t want her to lose out on this one.

Aisha eventually escaped from the noogie, eyes bright through the curtain of disarranged hair hanging over her face. Her tactic of tickling Sophia, who was nearly prostrate with laughter herself, may have had something to do with her success in wriggling out of the headlock. “Free!” Aisha proclaimed dramatically, then stuck out her tongue at Sophia. “No walls can hold me in! Iron bars are merely an amusing suggestion!”

“You’re an amusing suggestion,” I retorted. “Seriously, I swear you threw more popcorn than you ate.”

“So what if I did?” she asked cheekily as Sophia put her arm through Brian’s. He’d gotten his phone out and was in the process of turning it on, which reminded me to do the same. It was doubtful in the extreme that a citywide emergency had arisen in the time that we’d been in the movie, but there was no sense in taking chances.

“So it’s rude and a waste of popcorn,” I said as both Sophia and I followed Brian’s example. She took longer than me, mainly because she didn’t want to let go Brian’s arm. I noted that she was turning on her personal phone rather than the PRT one I knew she also carried. That wasn’t a problem; if I did get an alert, I’d just let her know that we had to go. I didn’t have a private cell-phone as yet, but my PRT one looked normal enough.

Nothing urgent popped up, though I did get a couple of low-level messages about trivial matters. Nobody had pinged us regarding the alley mugging, which had been my major concern. I stuck the phone back in my pocket and ran my hands through my hair, incidentally dislodging a couple of pieces of random popcorn. Aisha had gotten indiscriminate there, toward the end of the movie. “So who wants to do some more rollerblading?” I asked.

I was only expecting to get a positive response from one person—Sophia was holding on to Brian’s arm like a lifeline—and I wasn’t disappointed. “Woo, yeah!” whooped Aisha. “Let’s go show these slowpokes how it’s done!”

As she took Sophia’s backpack to retrieve the rollerblades, I looked at Brian. “Maybe you two could get skates of your own sometime and we could make a day of it down here,” I suggested slyly. Getting Sophia on to rollerblades would be much easier, I suspected, if Brian was already on them.

Sophia shot me a dirty look, but Brian nodded his head. “Actually, that sounds like a fun idea,” he said. “Aisha’s definitely having a ball, and I want to encourage the attitude that I’m not here to spoil all her fun.”

“Only most of it,” Aisha retorted, seated on the curb as she pulled the skates on. “Let’s face it, big bro. You’re a wet blanket and a killjoy.”

Brian was about to answer that when his phone rang. He grimaced as he looked at it. “Crap,” he muttered. For a moment, it seemed as though he was going to decline the call, then his expression tightened and he answered it. “Hey, Lisa,” he said resignedly.

My attention sharpened at that. Was Lisa an ex? Sophia seemed to think that as well; an expression came across her face that I hadn’t seen in some time. If this Lisa thought she could come between Sophia and Brian, I pitied her.

“No, I’m busy. I’m out with friends. Yes, friends. People I don’t work with.” His tone was one of strained patience, then his grimace deepened. “The boss wants us to come in now? Tell him I can’t make it. I—” He paused, listening. “How much overtime?”

Well, it seemed that Lisa was a work colleague rather than a rival to Sophia for Brian’s attentions. Which was lucky for Lisa, to be honest. However, it also seemed that Brian was losing the argument, which was unlucky for Sophia.

He let out an aggravated sigh then said, “Fine. Give me half an hour.” With an expression of pain on his face he turned to Sophia. “Look, I’m really sorry, but work’s a bitch at times.”

“So’s this Lisa, by the sound of it,” snarked Sophia. In a demonstration of self-control that impressed me, she took a deep breath and patted Brian on the arm. “Go. We’ll make another date. I had fun.”

“Aww, man,” complained Aisha. “I just got the fuckin’ rollerblades on and all!” She gave Brian a hopeful look. “Can I go skating with them?”

He turned to Sophia. “Would you mind? I mean, you don’t have to feel like you’re obliged to. I can just take her home if you’ve got other things to do.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Sophia told him with a rare smile; not so rare, when he was around. “We’ve got no problem with hanging out with Aisha. Right, Taylor?”

“Definitely,” I agreed. Sophia and I had the evening shift with the Wards, but that was a couple of hours away. There were worse ways to pass the time than messing around on the Boardwalk, and Aisha was always fun to be around. “We’ll get her on the bus when we have to take off.”

“Whoo!” The grin on Aisha’s face was somewhat infectious. “See you at home, Bri!” Jumping to her feet, she started skating in circles, trying some footwork that I probably would’ve twisted my ankle to attempt.

Brian nodded to her, then gave us both a smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate this. Aisha doesn’t get to go out much, and I know I can trust you two to keep her in line. I owe you both for this.”

“I know.” Sophia flowed into his personal space, then hooked her finger into his collar to bring his face down to her level. For a moment I thought she was going to kiss him again, and prepared to look away to give them privacy. But instead she spoke softly into his ear. “Which means you’d better be prepared to show me one hell of a date next time to make up for ditching us this time.”

He blushed about three shades darker, which I found pretty impressive for someone with his skin tone. “I’ll do my best,” he promised. I noted that he didn’t attempt to excuse his departure by protesting that it wasn’t his idea.

“You do that.” Sophia gave him a brilliant smile, then let him go. “Now get going. Don’t want you to be late for work or something.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, obviously reluctant to go. “It’s a pain, being on call.”

“Sounds like it,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. It was, after all, the situation Sophia and I were in with the Wards, but he certainly didn’t need to know that particular aspect.

We waved goodbye as he got into the cab, then set about enjoying ourselves on the Boardwalk. Aisha needed no encouragement; soon, she was zipping up and down in a way that made Sophia covertly grin and shake her head. I alternated between trying to catch her (not always successfully) and meandering alongside Sophia as she strolled down the Boardwalk. Aisha didn’t even try to ditch us, though she had no way of knowing her clothes were tagged with several bugs. It was pretty obvious that she was on what passed for her best behaviour, so that she’d get to come out and do this again.

I had to wonder what her home life was like. Brian had dropped a few comments about their father being ex-military and extremely strict (which both Sophia and I had both mentally compared with Aisha's attitudes and come up with a mutual nope). Their mother, as hard as it might be to comprehend, had a home life that was even worse for her. Brian’s account had been sparing with the details, but their mother apparently had a drug problem and a boyfriend with wandering hands. Aisha had called Brian for help one night and after beating the living snot out of the boyfriend, he’d taken her to live with their father.

This, among other things, was why Sophia and I had so much time for Aisha, and why Sophia was willing to be so forgiving when Brian was called away. While our association had done a lot to wean her of the toxic strong-vs-weak ideology—not to mention, I called her on it every time I caught her backsliding—we both firmly admired someone who would step up and protect family like that.

After an hour, during which time Aisha put more wear and tear on the rollerblades than Sophia had in the entire time she’d been using them, Sophia caught my eye. It was time to get to the PRT building and begin our shift. We’d both been having almost as much fun as Aisha (though not as much as Sophia would’ve had with Brian still there) so it was with some regret that I signalled to Aisha to come back to us.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she asked briskly as she came up to us. “Not getting tired already, are you?”

I sighed and nodded. “Sorry. We’ve got to get going. Dad’s expecting me.”

“And I’ve got a project to finish off,” Sophia chimed in, using another of our practised excuses. Not that we really needed them, but every little bit helped.

Aisha wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, shit happens,” she said, her voice unhappy but resigned. “Thanks for staying back. I haven’t had so much fun in fuckin’ forever.”

“Hey, we’ll come out again,” I said as I sat down and began to take off my rollerblades, then indicated Sophia with a tilt of my head and a sly grin. “Unless she’s already tired of Brian, that is.”

“Bite your tongue,” muttered Sophia, eliciting a snort of amusement from Aisha.

A few minutes later, we put Aisha on the bus, extracting a promise that she’d go straight home and stay there. Checking the schedule, I figured out that we’d be waiting more than half an hour for our own bus, so I called the PRT building and arranged a covert van to pick us up for our shift. Then it was just a matter of waiting until it turned up.

Or rather, it would have been, if the cape fight hadn’t gotten there first.

<><>​

Apparently, it was all my fault. For a given definition of ‘fault’, of course.

I learned, much later, that the simmering tensions brought about by the capture of Lung and Oni Lee and the disappearance of Bakuda (all of which I’d been involved in) had been building over the last week or so. While the Empire felt that their status as the largest gang in the city gave them the natural right to the now-vacant ABB turf, others were not in agreement with them. Nor was this opposition posed only by the criminal capes of the city, who naturally wanted the area divided up semi-fairly between them. Simply put, the Asian population of Brockton Bay had tended to gravitate into ABB-run territory, and not a few of them were involved indirectly in the gang’s activities while not actually being part of the ABB proper. As such, they had a vested interest in keeping the Empire from taking over their under-the-table profits.

The upshot of all this was that shortly after our movie let out, the gangs of the city were holding a meeting in a seedy run-down bar that enjoyed the unlikely name of Somers Rock. The meeting had been called to ease tensions and to extract a promise from Kaiser that he wouldn’t unilaterally claim all the territory without giving anyone else a chance to carve off their share.

Kaiser had laughed in their faces.

The Empire Eighty-Eight, he’d reminded them, held twice as many capes as any other gang in the city. With the continued incarceration of the rage dragon and the serial suicide bomber (and the absence of the bomb Tinker from the field of play) it also held the undisputed title of most powerful gang. He would allow the other criminal types to keep their own territory, but (with Hookwolf to his left hand and Krieg to his right) they simply didn’t have the wherewithal to prevent him from taking up the suddenly-vacated turf. Any who thought otherwise, he suggested, was welcome to try their luck once the meeting was over.

Nobody was quite stupid enough to take up the challenge, though Skidmark apparently muttered dire and profane threats under his breath. But once Kaiser and his retinue left, the rest of the capes remained. Rag-tag second and third raters though they were (and, in the case of Über and Leet, somewhere south of that), they nonetheless decided that if Kaiser wanted a fight, he was going to get a fight. Under the chairmanship of a cadaverous man called Coil who went with a snake motif, they agreed to a non-aggression policy between themselves, and to cooperate with each other until the Empire was brought to heel. Well, almost everyone agreed to fight. Faultline, the leader of the eponymous Crew, opted to remain neutral as she possessed no territorial ambitions.

Shortly after that, the meeting broke up. Everything stayed quiet and under the PRT’s radar until the first fighting broke out, practically on top of us.

<><>​

Boardwalk
One Minute Prior to Shit Encountering Fan

“It was a good movie, wasn't it?” I commented idly, fishing out my phone to check the time. Sophia and I weren't alone at the bus stop, so we couldn't talk shop freely. However, there was plenty of other stuff we could chat about. And while we weren't quite as comfortable with each other as we had been before the catastrophic unmasking, we were definitely getting better at communicating.

“Yeah,” said Sophia vaguely. “I liked it when that thing happened.”

I stared at her. Sophia had her faults, but waffling like that was totally unlike her. Normally, she was very precise in her speech, or at least extremely blunt. But the moment I got a good look at her face, all became clear. The dreamy expression she wore was as uncharacteristic as the words she'd uttered.

“Yeah, it was pretty cool when that flying castle exploded, wasn't it?” I asked mischievously. There hadn't been any castles in the movie, exploding or flying, which was why I had to hide a grin as I awaited her response.

“Yeah, it—wait, what?” Jolted back to the here and now, Sophia gave me an irritated glare. “What goddamn castle? When did that happen?”

I smirked at her. “Well, if you'd been paying as much attention to watching the movie as you were to sitting in Brian's lap, you'd know." In all fairness, she hadn’t actually been sitting in Brian’s lap, but on the other hand she hadn’t noticed when Aisha leaned forward and tipped the remains of a bucket of popcorn over her head.

“He’s different,okay?” Her expression dared me to say otherwise. “I mean, you can see it, right? He’s not like other guys, all wishy-washy. He’s the kind of guy I can respect. Anyone can respect. The kind of guy who’s willing to go the distance. He doesn’t ask permission before he gets shit done. And he can definitely handle himself.” Which was basically her way of saying he was ‘strong’, but in a way I wouldn’t object to.

“Hey, I’m not saying he’s not any of that,” I pointed out. “I just think it’s funny. If any of the guys could see this, they’d be going full-on Mike Sierra on your ass.” I didn’t actually think anyone would think it necessary to call for Master/Stranger procedures after seeing Sophia cuddling up to Brian like that, but Dennis might do it anyway for shits and giggles (well, he would’ve, before he ended up as team leader. These days he was more responsible). Chris, on the other hand, might need therapy.

“I’d like to see ‘em try,” she grumbled. “They gave us enough weird looks when you and me got to be friends. What’s wrong with me having a normal relationship, anyway?”

“Maybe because you kept pushing people away?” I suggested as diplomatically as I could. “I mean, you can be kind of prickly at times. And you’ve got a bit of a temper.”

She gave me a dirty look, but didn’t dispute having a temper. Which was kind of a good thing because teasing her about Brian was fun, but I didn’t want to be mean about it. It was just a way to pass the time while we waited for our ride.

“Yeah, well, I—” she began, but I held up a hand to hush her. Something weird was happening just down the street and around the corner. I didn’t have a huge swarm up, but the bugs in that vicinity were experiencing weird conditions. “What?” she said, obviously picking something up from my expression.

“Something,” I said. “Not sure what.” I got up from the bus stop seat and slung my backpack over my shoulder, then started along the pavement in the direction of the disturbance. Sophia followed me, eyes intent. I began to pull in all the bugs I could muster, converging in smaller swarms here and there.

“Cape something?” she murmured, once we were away from the people at the bus stop. “Got your baton?”

“Probably, and yes. I can mask us up whenever you’re ready. Just say the word.” I could usually get away without using a mask in an emergency situation, just by standing off and pretending I had no idea why all the bugs were flying around like that. But I had another trick I’d worked up with Sophia. We’d practised it a few times and while she always complained, we both knew it could be useful in a pinch.

“Ew. Yeah, okay.” Each of us carried a collapsible baton wherever we went. This was Brockton Bay, after all. Wards or no, we were still teenage girls, and there were more dangers out there than just capes. Supervillains, after all, wore costumes to show who they were. More subtle human predators did no such thing.

In the next moment, one of the giant bone-encrusted Undersider dogs came hurtling around the corner sideways, trailing a streamer of darkness. A car appeared next, flying backward through the air. It was followed by a second one, this time with a robed figure standing on top of it. Rune.

It looked to me as though the Empire cape had used the first car to smack the dog that Grue was riding, which explained their abrupt entrance. Because it was definitely Grue; nobody else could pull off a skull helmet and black biker leathers like he could. He was also athletic as hell, bailing off the dog just before it would’ve rolled over the top of him, and getting out of the way.

Everyone else was staring at the ongoing fight, which allowed me to bring the swarm in. All the nearby security cameras also got a blanket of insects just before I covered us both in them. Sophia got all dark-coloured insects, as small as I could find. Whenever she went to shadow, her power brought along anything that was closely connected to her, which meant smaller bugs had a better chance of staying on her than bigger ones. She claimed to be creeped out by having that many bugs crawling on her, but I noticed she never refused the offer. In truth, I suspected she knew how badass she looked and secretly enjoyed the effect. Almost as much as she enjoyed bitching about basically anything.

I got the more colourful bugs, arranged in a symmetrical fashion on me so as to break up my features and prevent incidental footage from capturing my face. Not that I’d be dashing into combat, but nobody and nothing was going to prevent me from backing up Sophia to the best of my ability. We were partners, damn it.

Dropping my backpack, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my baton, then flicked it out in a practised move. Beside me, I heard Sophia’s own baton make its click-click-click noise. More and more bugs were arriving every second, and I started forming ghosts of us in the swirl of bugs, nothing corporeal but definitely a suggestion that someone was there. I felt Sophia’s cheeks clench in a grin under the feet of my bugs.

“You take Rune, I’ll take Grue,” I said firmly, making sure my bugs transmitted my voice to her ears. I knew just how much she disliked the leader of the Undersiders, and I didn’t want this to go sideways because she wanted to indulge her mad-on.

Her head flicked around toward me and she opened her mouth as if to protest, then she paused. “Don’t let him get away,” she snapped, then headed across the street toward the ongoing fight.

While we’d been preparing, the villains had not been standing around idle. The monster lizard-dog-thing had rolled to its feet, and Grue had regained his seat astride it. Rune sent the unoccupied car swooping at him again, but the dog obviously didn’t want to get caught like that again. Whether it was due to a command from Grue or on its own initiative, it leaped up and started climbing the building beside it. Darkness billowed out from Grue, cloaking him but not totally covering his location. The evasive manoeuvre was what saved them; despite a course correction by Rune, the car missed them by scant inches and ploughed into the building frontage. Glass smashed, metal crunched against concrete and one of the tyres was torn from the car and bounced down the street, but Grue and the dog were unscathed.

I followed after Sophia, generating more swarm ghosts as I went. These moved in various directions, but most were on a beeline toward either Grue or Rune. For her part, Rune was launching chunks of concrete toward Grue and the dog. Already, they were at a height where a fall could kill, so I decided to intervene directly.

“Bugpocalypse,” I had my insects buzz in Sophia’s ears, then a chunk of the swarm converged around Rune. She wore robes, which had the benefit of being loose-fitting and easy to move in. The fact that bugs could easily find their way past to the person underneath was less of a benefit to her, though probably not something she’d considered when designing her costume.

Even if I hadn’t been aware of it through my connection to the bugs, I would’ve known almost to the second when the bites and stings—though going easy on the venom, as I didn’t want to risk her going into anaphylactic shock—began to register on her. Both cars began to wobble back and forth, losing altitude all the time. I moved up alongside Sophia and bent down slightly, lacing my fingers together and cupping my hands.

Up above, Grue wasn’t escaping my attention. I had the swarm cover him as well, clustering around the dog’s eyes and ears, and coating the helmet faceplate so that neither could see. I couldn’t mess with his hearing, but now he couldn’t give the dog any verbal commands. Neither was I going to interfere with his ability to hang on, and I was ensuring that Rune could launch no more of the deadly missiles in his direction. Our job here was to keep casualties to a minimum, and bring the fight to an end as soon as possible.

Sophia divined my intention at once, and put her foot into my cupped hands. Regular exercise alongside Sophia hadn’t brought me up to her level of fitness, nor would it do that any time soon. But I was stronger than I had been before all this happened, able to give her a boost upward as she kicked off. The instant her foot left my hand, she went to shadow along with her cloaking bugs. I lost contact with them, except for a vague sense that they were there somewhere. As had happened before, I knew they’d be carrying out my last command to them, which was to stick close to her and not impede her mouth or eyes.

Her shadow form shot upward, almost divorced from gravity. A mass of my bugs flew upward with her in the real world, each of their tiny bodies lending her a little forward momentum so that she went farther and faster than the jump normally would’ve taken her. As they guided her toward Rune, I ran toward where Grue’s dog was cautiously negotiating the downward climb, unable to hear or see anything. A growing cloud of blackness accompanied it, blotting out all sight for yards around. I didn’t slow down at all as I entered the cloud, despite the fact that I couldn’t see a damn thing … at least with my eyes. With the swarm acting as effective sonar, I was aware of every object more than an inch across within the cloud of blackness.

The two cars were about four yards off the pavement when Sophia landed on the one holding Rune. Between the swarm buzzing in her face and the stings happening all over her body, the villain was entirely unaware of her new passenger until Sophia hauled her around and punched her out. It seemed Rune hadn’t been getting any tutoring on taking a hit from her ex-cage fighting cape comrades. Or, if she had, the lessons hadn’t stuck. Her knees went out from under her and she collapsed on top of the car. A second later, both vehicles struck the ground with a tremendous crash that bespoke a wrecker’s yard in their near future.

The monster dog Grue was riding reached the ground, still moving cautiously. It kept shaking its head in an attempt to dislodge its unwelcome passengers, to no avail. Now that he was on ground level, Grue swiped his hand across his faceplate to clear his vision. The bugs came back, but he’d gotten a snapshot of what was going on, and I figured he didn’t like it in the least. Kicking the dog in the ribs, he started it moving away from me, but more slowly than he probably wanted it to go.

Definitely slower than me; as I reached the dog, I mapped its side with the bugs. It was big, but the bony plates and spikes gave me an abundance of handholds to grab. Sticking my baton between my teeth and trying not to grimace from the taste of oil, I leaped up and clambered on to the back of the beast. Grue must have heard or felt something, because he began to turn, just as I snatched the baton from my mouth and swung it hard at his helmet. I felt safe in doing that, because helmets were designed to weather hits, but with any luck I might disorient him enough to land a proper body blow.

The weighted tip of the baton struck the faceplate. A small chunk broke away, leaving the majority intact but badly cracked. His head flew back from the impact, and he half-fell, half-slid off of the dog. This was probably the smartest move he could’ve made, given that if he’d stayed on the dog, I had free rein to attack him from behind.

However, while he was almost certainly used to hiding in the darkness and taking out his foes from concealment, that tactic was wasted on me. I couldn’t see a thing, but my bugs told me where they were. And when they were on him, they showed me where he was. Also, with access to his bare skin at last—motorcycle leathers were a pain, like that—I started pouring bugs in through the hole in the faceplate. I didn’t have them sting or bite him immediately, but they stared clustering around his eyes again, rendering him as blind as any normal person would be in the choking black fog.

Leaping off the dog, I grunted heavily as I landed and rolled. I wasn’t as graceful at regaining my feet as either Grue or Sophia would be, but they couldn’t command ten million bugs as easily as they opened and closed their hands, so I refused to feel inadequate. In any case, I was still fast enough to catch up to Grue and tackle him from behind. “Surrender!” I yelled at him, buzzing the word at the same time with my bugs. He stumbled, then went down heavily, but rolled over and threw me off almost immediately.

He started to get to his feet, a lot quicker than me (once again) … but the fight had distracted him and the cloud of darkness had drifted away. Sophia came in like an avenging thunderbolt and smashed a kick into his ribs from the side. Taken by surprise, he went down again, his helmet bouncing off the pavement with a hollow clonk. That, at least, seemed to rattle his cage.

Teeth bared with atavistic glee, Sophia straddled his back and pulled the baton across his throat from behind. He was a far better combatant than me, and probably at least Sophia’s equal, so I kept up the distraction of bugs over his face … which was when I made the unwelcome discovery.

“Shadow Stalker!” I yelled. “Stop!” He was barely resisting now anyway.

“Not damn likely,” she gritted, pulling harder.

“You’ll kill him!” I insisted, grabbing her arm.

She sent me a blazing look that reminded me far too much of the Sophia from before. “Walk away, Buzz. This is between me and him.”

“No, don’t!” I hadn’t wanted to say this before for several reasons, but there was no other way to get through to her. “It’s Brian!”

For a moment, I thought she hadn’t heard me, then her grip slackened. “ … the fuck?” she said blankly. “Brian? It can’t be.”

“My bugs don’t lie,” I said as steadily as I could. “It’s him.” I hadn’t wanted to believe it either, but I knew the shape of Brian’s face by now, and my bugs had faithfully shown me what lay beneath the faceplate.

In the moment of silence that followed, we both heard the gruff voice from beneath us. Grue’s voice normally echoed because of his helmet (and, I suspected, his darkness) but this close it was unmistakeable. “ … Taylor? Sophia?”

Sophia’s eyes met mine and widened, the bugs on her face scrambling out of the way. We both got up and backed off. Brian—because now that we knew it, there could be nobody else in those bike leathers—got to his feet, swaying slightly. He stared at us both. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said slowly.

Abruptly, Sophia turned and ran. I followed, pausing only to scoop up our backpacks and start the swarm dissipating. Grue would escape, but right now that didn’t bother me. What Sophia intended to do next did concern me. I had no idea how she was going to react. For that matter, I had no idea how I was going to react, once I had time to settle down and think things through.

I almost lost her three times, but my bugs picked her up again. We covered block after block, and then I detected her climbing a fire escape. Oh, shit. There were two ways this could go, both bad. She could be intending to travel farther and faster over the rooftops than I could follow, or …

I didn’t want to think about the or.

Panting heavily, I arrived at the building. She was still on top of the roof as I laboured my way up the fire escape in my turn. As I climbed on to the roof proper, I saw her sitting with her back up against the parapet. The late afternoon sun gleamed on tears running down her cheeks.

“What the fuck, Taylor?” she asked. “What the absolute fuck has my life come to that I just tried to kill the only guy I ever kissed? What the fuck sort of monster am I?”

I dropped the backpacks and walked over to her. There really was nothing I could say to that. I didn’t want to mention the fact that she’d been ready to commit murder and if it hadn’t been Brian under that helmet, I would’ve had to fight her to stop her. Slowly, carefully, I sat down beside her.

“I know,” she said, as if I’d answered her. Anguish coloured every syllable. “If you hadn’t said it … I would’ve ... and I'd never have known … FUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!” Her sudden scream sent birds scattering into the early evening sky. Fists clenched, she pounded on the obdurate rooftop over and over.

I didn’t want her hurting herself, any more than I’d wanted her to hurt Brian. Reaching out, I wrapped my arms around her, trapping her arms next to her. She struggled, but not as hard as she could have. Neither did she turn to shadow to slip out of my grasp. Slowly, her head came down on to my shoulder, and I could feel her heaving with silent sobs. Moisture—her tears—wet my cheek.

“Taylor …” Her voice was soft, desolate. “I’m broken. There’s something wrong with me.”

I held her more tightly and rocked her back and forth. Tears of my own trickled down my face. For how could I face my friend’s sorrow without sharing in it?

Finally, her voice whispered two more words. Two words that the old Sophia would never have used.

“Help me.”

I buried my face in her hair. “I will,” I replied, just as softly. “I promise.”

We sat like that until the PRT driver called my cell-phone to ask me where we’d gotten to.


End of Part Six

 

Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Part Seven: The New Normal

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Dennis pulled the whiteboard over to where the Wards were sitting, and picked up a red marker. “Okay, then. The fighting’s died down for the moment, but it’s not over yet. Kaiser wants more territory and there’s nobody out there with the firepower to stop him. So this is … I guess a half-time briefing?” He turned toward us and shook his head slightly. “Yeah, I know this isn’t a game. I couldn’t think of a better analogy.”

I shrugged, because it hadn’t really bothered me. Sophia was more my concern. She and I had more or less escaped injury, while the other Wards had been less lucky. Missy’s arm was in a sling, Chris’s armour had been absolutely trashed (and he apparently had a ringing headache) and Carlos looked like a botched Frankenstein experiment. Dean was absent because he was in sickbay with suspected broken ribs. With all that, Sophia looked absolutely wretched, while everyone else just looked pissed. Except Browbeat, who was currently manning the console. He looked as stolid as ever.

“Okay, then.” Dennis uncapped the black marker and drew several columns on the board. The first one was marked ARRESTS, the second GANG INJURIES, the third HERO INJURIES. The fourth one was marked DEATHS. Then he switched to a green marker. “Cape arrests: Rune, by Buzz and Shadow Stalker. Apparently they drove off Grue at the same time. Not gonna say a twofer wouldn’t have been nice, but Rune’s a large part of the Empire’s artillery support, so I’m gonna just give you extra kudos for the fact that you pulled this off out of costume.” He wrote RUNE in the first column.

“Whirligig and Mush,” offered Chris. Wearing T-shirt and jeans with a domino mask, he didn’t look up from the notepad on his lap, where he was busily sketching. “Pretty sure that was Armsmaster.”

“Right,” agreed Dennis. “Was that before or after Squealer ran down Aegis?” He carefully printed the names in the appropriate column.

“After,” husked Carlos. I wasn’t sure how he was even talking. Or seeing the board, for that matter. His entire body redefined ‘road rash’. “I nearly had her, too.”

“Sure thing.” Missy went to pat him on the shoulder, then refrained. “Um, I helped Miss Militia capture Othala and recapture Stormtiger. We nearly got Cricket, but she did something weird with sound and got away.”

I was impressed. Missy and Miss Militia were a potent team, but Stormtiger had been hard enough to capture the first time around. Something occurred to me, and I flicked a couple of fingers in the air. “Uh, Clock, how about Purity? Did she do anything? Was she in on it?”

“No, actually.” He sounded relieved. “Seems the rumour that she’s had a split with the Empire are true. Either that, or Kaiser’s keeping her in reserve. But given the absolute shitshow out there today, I’m inclined to doubt it.” He turned back to the board and finished writing in the names, then swapped out to a purple marker. “Okay, gang cape injuries, anyone?”

Missy spoke up again. “Victor took a hit from Skidmark. Looked like his shoulder was pretty messed up. Cricket took a shot to the leg from Miss Militia, but she was walking on it. And Glory Girl busted Menja’s kneecap.”

“Victor, Cricket, Menja, right,” noted Dennis, writing busily. “Buzz, Stalker, how did Grue look to you when you last saw him?”

I took a deep breath. “Well, we handled him pretty roughly, but he’s got those leathers, so I’d be surprised if he’s got anything more than bruises. He was on one of Hellhound’s dogs, so I’m thinking she was in the area too. Maybe Rune hurt her before going after Grue, but I don’t know enough to be sure.”

“Hm. Good point.” Dennis wrote HELLHOUND? in the gang injuries column. “Nobody else we know of?” After a pause during which nobody spoke up, he nodded and swapped the marker for a blue one. “Okay, then. Hero injuries?”

There was a pause, then Missy cleared her throat and pointed at Aegis. He turned his head to look at her. I got the impression he was trying to look and sound reproachful, but it just wasn’t coming across. “I’m good. I can still go out there.”

“No, you can’t.” Dennis shook his head, then turned to the whiteboard and started writing Aegis’ name. “Your body isn’t any more durable than anyone else’s. You need time to heal. I’m pulling you from the patrol roster. You’re on monitor duty until I say otherwise.”

“No,” rasped Carlos. “What if someone else gets hurt because I’m not there?”

“What if you get killed because you think you can take a hit and you can’t?” Dennis shot back. “I’ve been assigned this responsibility, and I’m damn well gonna carry it out. And that means not sending injured teammates out into battle.”

“Panacea—” began Carlos.

“—will show up if and when she shows up,” interrupted Dennis. “The Director is aware of how badly we were hit. I know this because I forwarded her that information just before we started this meeting. If she chooses to request Panacea’s assistance, then that will happen. If she chooses not to, then that will happen instead. I am not part of that decision-making chain, and nobody here is dying of internal injuries right now, and you are going on monitor duty, so can we just put a pin in that and move along?”

I blinked. Even Sophia seemed a little surprised by the outburst. It seemed Dennis’s happy-go-lucky, goofy personality had taken a hit. Instead of joking his way through the crisis, he was actually stepping up and making sure everyone knew how serious it was. I’d seen his mature side a couple of times before, especially the time Oni Lee had tried to assassinate me, but this was a whole new level. He wasn’t even trying to lighten the mood by calling the Director ‘Miss Piggy’, which just showed how fraught the situation was.

“Sounds good to me, Clock,” said Chris, though even he had to stare at his friend for a moment. “You can put me down as out of combat for the moment too, until I can throw together some spare parts and make new armour. And don’t forget Vista’s arm.”

“Hey!” she protested. “I can use my powers just fine with a broken arm!”

“Let’s see you do ten push-ups,” Dennis retorted. “No? You’re strictly noncombat only. Until that arm heals up, you’re not even allowed to look at a villain. There’s blood on the streets, guys, and not all of it’s villain blood.” He turned back to the board and wrote KID WIN (ARMOR) and VISTA in the ‘Heroes Injured’ column. “Also, Gallant.” He put that name down too.

“What happened to him, anyway?” I asked. “I thought his armour was pretty tough.”

“It was,” agreed Dennis. “But when Menja punts you through a brick wall, it involves whole new levels of stress-testing.” He tapped the board with the other end of the marker for a moment. “Assault’s down at the moment, too. One of Coil’s mercs tagged him with a laser. Damn near took his leg off. Velocity ran into one of Skidmark’s skid-fields and got thrown fifty feet into a car. He can walk, with crutches, but he can’t run.” Both those names went down.

“Geez,” I muttered. “We should’ve been there. Maybe we could’ve helped.”

Sophia’s hand closed on my arm. “We couldn’t have known,” she reminded me firmly. “I mean, yeah, this is probably about Lung, but shit happens. They chose to start this gang war, not us. They’re the ones who’re responsible for this shitshow.”

She stopped and looked around at the rest of the Wards, who were staring at her with varying degrees of disbelief. “What?”

“Are we going to have to call for Master/Stranger protocols on you, Stalker?” asked Chris. “I can’t even remember the last time you took the time to be the voice of reason, much less comfort anyone.”

“Hey, she can be nice!” I protested. The dubious looks intensified. “Well, she can,” I insisted. “You just don’t know her like I do. Because you never bothered to try.”

“You know what?” Dennis turned back to the board. “I’m not even going to argue that one.” Raising the marker, he wrote GLORY GIRL and BRANDISH in large bold strokes.

“Wait, what happened to them?” I asked. I didn’t know them all that well, but they were Panacea’s family and she’d been nice to me when she didn’t really have to.

“Shit, I thought everyone knew.” Dennis glanced at Missy, then turned to me. “Glory Girl went for Menja after Gallant got kicked through the wall. Busted Menja’s kneecap and put her on her ass, then Fenja came in and shield-swatted her into the ground. Somehow this got through her invincibility. Last I heard, she was still in a coma. Brandish was getting set to take on Fenja when Alabaster sideswiped her with a truck, then drove over her arm. It got pretty badly mangled. That gave the Valkyrie twins time to get away.”

“Holy fuck.” Sophia shook her head. “It’s like they’re pulling out all the stops. No holds barred.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what they intended,” Dennis said. “For my money, it was supposed to be a straight-up territory grab. But Kaiser underestimated everyone else’s dedication to not letting him have what he wanted. They struck back, the Empire struck harder, and it all escalated out of control.”

“So where’s the Triumvirate in all this?” I looked around at all the other Wards. “Surely they’d be stepping in by now, right?”

“Pfft, are you kidding?” I’d never heard Chris sound so bitter. “I asked Armsmaster. Right now, no heroes have died, so we’re theoretically holding the line. The Triumvirate have craploads of crisis points that they’ve got to deal with, any one of them as problematic as the Bay just got. We’re in the queue, but we’ve got number one million, and they’re currently serving number one.”

“Goddamn it.” Sophia shook her head. “If you’d asked me six months ago about this sort of scenario, I would’ve been chomping at the bit to get out there and kick heads with no restrictions. But now … it’s fucked up, that’s what it is. Everything’s totally fucked up. And not in a good way.”

I had an idea what she was talking about. If the villains kept pushing like this, it was likely to bring on a huge crackdown from heroes and PRT alike. The big guns would come into town and people like the Undersiders, who didn’t do much in the way of damage, would be caught in the crossfire. I put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into me. “Hey,” I said. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll all get through this.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, then she raised her head at the sudden silence. “What?”

Dennis shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m just saying, this new you is taking me a bit of time to get used to. Getting all emotional and stuff? Wow.”

“Are you absolutely certain we shouldn’t be calling for Master/Stranger protocols?” asked Browbeat from across the room; I got the impression he’d been listening in. “I don’t know Shadow Stalker all that well, but this is definitely out of character for her.” He didn’t sound as though he was joking.

“She’s fine, Browbeat,” I called out. “She’s just had a bit of an upsetting day. I know what happened. I was there. And before you ask …” I gathered a swarm right behind his chair. They buzzed, “It’s none of your business.”

“And there’s the Buzz we all know and fear,” Chris chuckled, breaking the tension.

“I, for one, welcome our new insectoid overlord,” misquoted Dennis, before resuming his serious demeanour. “Okay, Buzz is literally Shadow Stalker’s parole officer. If she says everything’s on the up and up, that’s good enough for me. So, on to the part nobody wanted to hit.” He changed out markers again, for a red one. “Deaths.”

“Thank god none of us is up there,” Chris muttered.

“Yet,” Missy threw in, surprising me. She was as hard-headed as they came out in the field, but normally she let herself unwind once she was in base. The events of the last few hours seemed to have hit her as hard as they had Sophia, but they’d had the effect of toughening her rather than making her open up.

Dennis drew a deep breath. “Okay, top of the hour.” He wrote SKIDMARK at the head of the column. “That one’s on Kaiser, after Skidmark put a three-foot steel bar through Victor’s shoulder then tried to do the same to him.”

I winced, imagining Kaiser’s reaction to such a slight. Skidmark probably hadn’t even had time to scream. It would’ve been very quick and very brutal.

“What about Hookwolf?” asked Chris.

“We don’t know, one way or the other,” Dennis pointed out. “Yes, Ballistic blew him out of the city. But the guy’s got a serious Brute level for a reason. We can’t even count him as injured until there’s an official notification.”

“Oh.” Missy drooped. “I just wish he …”

Chris put his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. We all do.”

Nobody disagreed. I’d never faced Hookwolf, but we all knew he was a bad opponent. Known for his brutal approach to combat, and rarely going easy on anyone he faced, he was on the official do-not-approach list for the Wards. It was an open secret that if and when he was captured by the authorities, he would be Birdcage bound. Nobody in the room (and relatively few people in the city) would be unhappy when that took place.

I made a mental note to go easy on Ballistic if I ever had to face him in combat. Literally throwing Hookwolf out of the city had to take serious guts, and he’d probably saved whoever the Nazi asshole had been fighting at the time.

“Anyone know of any other deaths?” asked Dennis, holding the cap over the red marker. “No? Thank God for that.” He capped it, then dropped it back on the little tray. “Okay, then. Let’s talk about what’s going on, and what’s expected of the Wards.”

“Wait a second.” I flicked a finger in the air again. “What happened with Squealer? She wasn’t captured or killed or injured?” As the last cape in the Merchant leadership, what she did would affect the drug-based gang.

“After Kaiser shredded Skidmark, she went kind of nuts,” offered Chris. “Tried to run Kaiser down, but he got out of the way. Aegis didn’t.” He glanced across at Carlos. “Then she vanished, just drove away from the fight.”

“So yes, we also have a vengeful Tinker lurking out there somewhere, who’s proficient in building big scary vehicles out of scrap,” Dennis pointed out. Unlike how he normally might have said it, there wasn’t a single element of humour in his tone.

“I’m just glad Bakuda’s out of the picture,” Chris agreed. “Two Tinkers, both with a rage-boner against the city? I’d be telling my parents to move. I still might.”

I shuddered, recalling my last run-in against Bakuda. Only Sophia’s skill and a certain amount of luck had gotten me out of that one alive. I really, really didn’t want to have to face another pissed-off Tinker any time soon. “So, does Alexandria have any openings in the LA Wards?” I asked, only wondering after I opened my mouth if I was really joking.

“Only if your parents are prepared to move.” Dennis left the whiteboard and came over to snag a chair. Turning it around, he sat down with his arms across the back, facing us. “We can take all the leave time we want, or take ourselves off the patrol roster, but there’s no way in hell you could convince anyone to transfer into the city right now, so the Director has put a hold on frivolous transfers. That covers Protectorate and PRT as well, in case you were wondering.”

“Okay, got it.” It wasn’t as though I’d been planning to leave anyway. Brockton Bay was my city, damn it. “So what’s actually going on?”

Dennis raised his hand and started ticking off points. “Orders from above are that we never patrol alone, and in pairs only in low-activity areas. We don’t go after a villain unless we’re supporting an approved Protectorate or PRT operation. We don’t get into a villain-on-villain fight at all; that’s for the big boys. We’ve had half a dozen incidences where capes could have died, including a couple of ours, and at least one villain’s died that we know of. We have no idea what’s been going on behind the scenes where we don’t have a presence. A lot of the low-end villains haven’t shown up at all, and we don’t know if that means they’re dead or just keeping their heads down and riding this out.”

I nodded. “If their henchmen had any sense, they’d be staying home with the door locked and the blinds pulled, not answering the phone.” Any cape fight where either side chose to get serious tended to end badly for the minions involved.

“How about Uber and Leet?” asked Sophia, rousing slightly. “If those two fuckwits get involved, absolutely anything could happen, none of it good.”

“Put them in the ‘out of sight for now’ column,” Dennis said. “They haven’t even been posting to their channel.”

That made me wonder. If they hadn’t even posted up a “We’re staying out of this” message, there was a good chance they’d been taken out by Kaiser’s forces early on. I didn’t know how to feel about that. It wasn’t as if I’d ever met them, and I’d heard they were kinda assholes, but something I’d been closely involved in had led to their potential deaths.

“On the upside,” Chris noted. “Schools are shut until all this dies down.”

I had to agree that this was a good thing, though my overall feelings were mixed. On the one hand, not having large numbers of children in one place was a good thing in case a cape battle spilled over. But on the other, my life at Winslow was just starting to come together. Emma and Madison were on notice, and I had Sophia to back me up, so I was actually able to get the grades I needed to go on to bigger and better things.

Well, school would still be there after all this settled out. And it would be good to not have that to worry about, just for the moment.

“There is that,” agreed Dennis. “Now, Aegis and Vista, you’re support only until you’re both back up to fighting form. Kid Win, you’re the same until you can get some armour together. That leaves Browbeat, me, Buzz and Shadow Stalker.”

“I’m taking myself off the patrol roster,” Browbeat said. The tone of his voice wasn’t whiny or defensive, just … matter of fact. “I thought I was ready for this, until the bank robbery. I barely held my own against the Undersiders. I’m happy to take down muggers, but I’m no more durable than Aegis, and I can’t take an injury and keep on going like he can. They’re looking for blood out there.”

Dennis’ expression didn’t change. Neither did he look back over his shoulder at the burly Ward. “Understood. I’ll make a note of that. Okay, that’s me, Buzz and Stalker.” He looked at the two of us. “Unless either of you wants out?”

Sophia and I shook our heads at the same moment. “We’re a team,” I said. “We took down Oni Lee together. We can hold our own.”

I couldn’t swear that there wasn’t a tear of pride in Dennis’ eye when he stood up from his chair. “And I will be honoured to kick ass alongside you,” he stated firmly. Taking the whiteboard, he flipped it over to show a city map taped to it. Recent movements of gangs, as well as the currently-defined borders of gang territory, had been marked in with sharpie. “So, our patrol tomorrow will commence at nine oh five. We’ll make our way north along the Boardwalk …”

<><>​

… beep … beep … beep …

Victoria Dallon lay in the bed, so very still.

Amy sat beside her, Vicky’s hand warm in hers.

She had healed all the outward injuries, all the broken bones, all the minor traumas. Physically, Vicky was as fit and healthy as she’d ever been … except for her brain. She’d suffered a skull fracture and a severe concussion in that one hit. Amy had been one of the first ones to get to her, and she’d softened and expanded Vicky’s skull so that the swelling wouldn’t cause any cell death, and she’d shut off two separate bleeds before they could do significant damage.

Fortunately, Vicky’s brain had ceased to swell, and was indeed starting to go back to its normal state. There was activity going on, Amy could tell. Her sister wasn’t dead in there. Signals were passing back and forth between parts of her brain, and other signals being sent to her heart and lungs; she was breathing on her own, and her heartbeat was steady.

Still, Vicky would not wake up. Amy wanted so badly to go in there and fix the damage that had been done in the original hit, but it was Vicky’s brain. Any changes she made would alter her sister forever. What held her back wasn’t that it would be difficult to do; on the contrary, it would be easy. Too easy. Too tempting. It would be so easy just to … nudge her slightly. Not change who and what she was, just make her more … open to the possibility. Set her feet on the path, so to speak.

But she couldn’t. And what made her hate herself more than anything was the certain knowledge that she wasn’t refraining because it was the wrong thing to do, but because Vicky knew she could affect brains if she chose to. And if Vicky came out of her coma with an altered view of Amy, she might just realise what had been done. That would turn her against Amy forever.

Amy couldn’t bear even the possibility of that happening. So she didn’t dare use her power on Vicky’s brain, save to monitor it and ensure that nothing was going wrong with it.

Around her, nurses came and went. Vicky was checked on, the IVs changed out or replenished. Members of her family came and spoke to her, but she nodded and said nothing. Eventually, they went away again. The sun dragged down in the sky and eventually set.

Amy sat, holding her sister’s hand.

… beep … beep … beep …

<><>​

It was dusk before Brian finally made his way back to the loft. Brutus tagged at his heels, head low, limping slightly. Evading the cops hadn’t been all that hard, but he didn’t want to go back to the loft until he’d sorted everything out in his head. So he’d waited until Brutus was back to ordinary size, shoved the helmet and jacket into his backpack and become just another big black guy on the street.

He needed to work things out for himself because he just knew Lisa would figure out something had happened, and the more he refused to answer, the closer she’d come to the truth, because she loved to niggle and poke and pry until she’d figured it all out. It had been bad enough when she’d realised he was going on a date. An actual date, with an actual girl. Alec’s blank disbelief was bad enough, and he was fine with Rachel ignoring the whole situation, but the way Lisa had done her best to worm out every detail she could had set his teeth on edge. It didn’t help when she figured out how little he knew about Sophia, and insinuated that he was being set up for something.

He’d never come so close to punching her as he did right then.

The worst bit was, though he knew damn well they hadn’t been aware of his identity until Taylor spoke up (and how had she figured it out?) Lisa had been right, in a way. A very twisted and convoluted way, but definitely a way. Of course, he’d also been setting up Sophia in the same way; and in fact, in a worse way if he were being totally honest with himself.

Total transparency in a relationship was hard enough, even before the pitfall of a secret identity was brought into it. Was he supposed to lie to her until she found out? Was there a point beyond which it was too late to tell her? If he came clean on the first date, what guarantee was there that she wouldn’t immediately use that against him? There were so many questions, and no good answers.

Worst of all, Sophia wasn’t a fan of Grue (which as a subject, again being honest, was hard to bring up with girls). In fact, she wasn’t merely indifferent or even ignorant of his existence. She actively hated him. He had the best possible evidence of that, both with the scar in his side and the still-sore bruise across his throat. He had to admit, Shadow Stalker wasn’t exactly on his Christmas card list either. Having someone literally attempting to kill him every time they met had that effect on him.

Which made the whole situation worse, because he liked Sophia, a lot. She had a certain deadpan sense of humour, and she liked the same things in movies that he liked. It didn’t hurt that she was able to kick ass with the best of them, though in hindsight the way they’d handled the fight in the alley should’ve been a huge neon sign for all three of them that something weird was up. The only one of them he didn’t think was a parahuman was Aisha, and he wasn’t a hundred percent convinced of that, either.

What he was absolutely convinced of was that he had no idea where to go on from there. Shadow Stalker knew his face and name, and he knew the same about her. They even had each other’s phone numbers. This wouldn’t have been so bad, except that she had apparently decided they were each other’s nemeses, and took it very seriously. Which worried him intensely. What if she decided that as a villain he was clearly going to go after her family, and opted to pull a pre-emptive strike on his instead? Yes, this was against the so-called unwritten rules, but despite whatever Lisa chose to believe on the matter, he’d always been aware that the only people who followed rules were the ones who felt they were bound by them. Sophia, even in the short time he’d known her, had given the strong impression of someone who was more willing to ask for forgiveness than permission.

This had concerned him to the point that he’d reached for his phone; whether to call Sophia and ask her to not do anything rash or to call his father and tell him to get Aisha out of the apartment, he didn’t know. But it wasn’t there. At some point in the scuffle with Buzz—Taylor—he’d lost it.

Having the police find it wasn’t an issue. That phone was a burner, with only Lisa’s, Rachel’s and Alec’s numbers on it. If the cops got it unlocked and tried calling a number, they’d know it wasn’t him and dump the SIM cards. The real issue was, with his personal phone back at the loft (because what idiot took a phone connecting them to their civilian identity out in costume?) he had no real way of getting in contact with anyone.

When he finally got back to the loft, he was tired and footsore and the bruises were starting to stiffen. As the door opened, a cacophony of barking broke out, then was silenced with a single whistle. Brutus perked up, and dashed up the stairs before him. He trudged up, one step at a time, bracing himself for the inevitable interrogation. Not that he’d be saying anything, or even needed to.

“Where the hell have you been?” demanded Lisa, looking more ruffled than normal. “When Rachel came in with a broken arm, she said the last she saw you, you were leading Rune away from her. But when you didn’t come back straight away, we thought …” She trailed off, staring at him. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Rune’s down, the cops got her, I got away.” Brian tried to push past her to get to his room. He wanted a hot shower in the worst way. But first he needed to find his phone.

“No way in hell you took Rune down,” Lisa said firmly. “Unless you covered her with darkness and she ran into something. But you didn’t do that at all, did you?” Brian mentally facepalmed; he’d seen this kind of work from her when they wanted to know something fast, and she’d finally clicked onto a train of deduction that worked. “Someone else did. You got taken down as well, but …” She frowned, massaging her temple with her fingertips. “Something going on there. They had you down, but they let you go. But there’s more. You wouldn’t be this upset if that was all there was.”

Reaching out, Brian grabbed the front of Lisa’s top, and pulled her to him so that he loomed over her. “I’m going to my room.” His voice was as controlled as he could make it, but he was sure she could read his desire to yell at her. “You will not disturb me.”

“If the boss calls—” began Lisa.

“Tell him we’re down a big hitter with Rachel hurt,” Brian snapped. “Until her arm mends, we’re severely limited in mobility.”

“I can kick your ass any day of the week!” Rachel’s voice bellowed from her bedroom. “And I don’t need my arm to use my power!”

“Can you hang on with one hand while your dogs are climbing buildings?” Brian yelled back. “No! The last thing we fucking need is you falling off your dog and getting caught or killed! It’s bad enough Rune ambushed us like that!” Ignoring Alec’s complaint of ‘how am I supposed to out-shitpost Void Cowboy with all this noise going on’, Brian pushed Lisa away and stormed off to his room.

Once he was there, he found his phone. Picking it up, he looked at the screen … and froze. There, in front of his eyes, was a number he didn’t know with a text message under it. Call me. Please.

He sat down on the bed, staring at the number. He’d gotten Sophia’s number, but this wasn’t it. He hadn’t gotten Taylor’s by some oversight, but why would she be texting him?

Possibilities washed through his mind.

She wants to yell at me for lying to her and Sophia.

She wants to give me a chance to come in peacefully.

She wants to warn me that Sophia is going after my family.

She wants to urge me not to go after Sophia’s family.

She wants to trace my phone so she and Sophia can bust in and arrest the lot of us.

She wants to …

He didn’t know what Taylor wanted.

For the longest time, he just sat there, staring at the message.

<><>​

Trainyards

Midnight

All was quiet.

Ever since the Boat Graveyard had killed Lord’s Port, more than a decade ago, the locomotive marshalling yards had been slowly falling more and more into disrepair. At first the city had neglected to take action in the hope that the situation would be resolved quickly. Then it continued to not take action because there were other issues to deal with. Now, it was a matter of not being able to afford to. Or, to put it another way, any time the money showed up in the budget, it immediately got earmarked for a dozen other different projects which might do more for the city than ‘remove an eyesore that nobody even looks at anymore’.

So, year after year, the Trainyards had remained, gradually decaying, anything valuable or useful having long since been scavenged. Sometimes even by the legitimate owners. What was left had by now become more or less solid lumps of steel and rust. The locomotives were dead and dark, any single one of them needing to be stripped down to the bare chassis and rebuilt from scratch before it would run again. Even the rolling stock was frozen where it sat, the axles rusted solid to the bogies.

Weeds braved the oil and other pollutants that had seeped into the soil over the decades that the trains had been running, curling over the tracks and up through the slowly rusting locomotives and train cars. In recent times, the ABB had claimed it as their territory, signing it with their logo in varying levels of skill, using broken-open boxcars as rendezvous points and places where drugs or other vices could be indulged in.

Now, the ABB had lost its cape leadership. Former followers of the Dragon of Kyushu found themselves without the power they’d once had. With the Empire Eighty-Eight on the street in force, the remnants of the Asian gang had decided to embrace the better part of valour. Colours were discarded and red-and-green jackets hidden away. Men and women had returned to their homes, the illegal casinos and brothels had shuttered their doors, and all prepared to keep their heads down until it blew over. Without a cape to stand behind, no gang in Brockton Bay stood a chance.

So the meeting places in the Trainyards were absent of surreptitious deals. Nobody slunk between the hulking shapes and exchanged quiet gang signals. The occasional stray cat yowled, but even that was few and far between, due to the poor hunting options. Even the rats had deserted the area.

Therefore, there was nobody to witness what happened next.

The locomotive had sat for more than ten years without moving. Once, power had surged through its frame as it hauled ten thousand tons of rolling stock across America and back. Now it sat silent, its very purpose defeated and dead.

A spark popped from the highest point on its superstructure, arcing into the air before grounding in the ore hauler on the next track over. If anyone had been present, they would’ve remarked at the smell of ozone in the air.

Nothing else happened for a moment.

A hunting owl, curious about the sudden flare of light, swooped closer.

Another spark popped, this time from the ore carrier. One leader found the locomotive, and two more zig-zagged off, forking as they went, to connect to three boxcars, a tanker and a second locomotive. A subliminal hum crackled through the air, along with a sharp increase in static electricity. The owl sheered off, wanting nothing to do with this.

The network of purple lightning crawling over the seven highly conductive pieces of metal faded almost to extinction, then brightened again. More connections formed, arcing back and forth across the empty section of ground bounded by them. Another leader snapped out, and latched onto a switching lever, and through it into the ground.

Power surged through the switch lever, heating it abruptly to a dull red glow. Pieces of rust exploded off it like shrapnel, glowing almost white-hot as they ricocheted from the locomotives and other rolling stock. The crackling intensified, the pulses of power increasing in frequency. Brighter and brighter flared the intricate, ever-shifting network of electrical arcs. The train cars and locomotives, despite the fact that they weighed tons apiece, began to shudder.

And then, with a BOOM that echoed across the Trainyards, a hole formed in the air at the epicentre of the electrical network. Any human witness would have testified to its eye-twisting nature, the way that it seemed to be infinitely deep and not there at all, simultaneously. It pulsated, enlarging then shrinking, over and over, until …

The hole snapped all the way open. There was the roar of an internal combustion engine. A jeep, missing its windshield and a good deal of its panelwork, burst through the opening and rammed one of the locomotives. A lithe figure, wearing the ragged, cut-off remains of clothing, bailed out and scrambled away from the smoking vehicle.

All around, the electrical network seemed to destabilise. It pulsated again, the size of the hole fluctuating rapidly and unpredictably. A tendril of energy linked the hole to the jeep, where it had brushed the side coming through. With a horrible metallic crunching noise, the jeep was hauled backward and dragged through the hole, despite the hole being far too small for it. A single shattered rear-vision mirror fell to the ground.

The hole closed to a point then disappeared. One by one, the electrical discharges ceased, leaving burn marks where they had been. Popping and crackling in the cool night air, the switch lever slowly slumped to the ground, the red heat gradually radiating away from it. Only the sharp smell of ozone remained to prove that anything untoward had happened.

And of course, the person on the ground, clinging to a rail tie as if her life depended on it (and it may well have).

Slowly, she released her grip. Sitting up, she looked around, crazed blue eyes taking in her surroundings. An equally unhinged grin peeled back her lips to show her teeth. Then she began to laugh, and all question of sanity was dispelled. There was none.

Bakuda was back.

And Brockton Bay was going to pay.



End of Part Seven

[A/N: The next chapter of Confrontation II: The Reckoning will be the last chapter.]

 

Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Part Eight: All In

[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: This was going to be the last chapter, but it just blew out of control. So there’ll be another one after this. Following that will be four epilogues. Enjoy.]



Grue

Brian opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. Slowly, he rolled his head sideways on the pillow until he could read the numbers on his alarm clock. 01:27.

God damn it, he groused mentally. Ever since he’d read the text from Taylor—Buzz—he hadn’t been able to concentrate. Hadn’t been able to stay asleep. It had stuck with him, right alongside the memory of Sophia’s face when she realised it was him she’d been trying to kill. Had it been horror, or disgust?

If she’d stayed … but she hadn’t stayed. She’d run, and Taylor had run right after her. This had given him the chance to get away which he was grateful for, but he knew he’d be more grateful if he knew what was going on inside Shadow Stalker’s head.

No, he decided. Shadow Stalker’s a bitch. I want to know what’s going on inside Sophia’s head. She’s the sane one.

It didn’t even seem odd to him to be thinking about someone as two different people, defined by whether they were wearing a mask at the time or not. The same went for Taylor, now that he came to think about it. Out of costume, she was friendly and reserved with a dry sense of humour. In costume she was tactically alert, extremely difficult to fight even inside his darkness, and absolutely relentless.

Even if Taylor’s being genuine, how do I know Shadow Stalker won’t suddenly snap again and try to kill me? God, what if she goes after Aisha? Did I ever give her my address? Does she have Aisha’s number?

Fumbling for his phone, he squinted in the dark as he tapped out a text to his sister. If Sophia or Taylor contact you, don’t respond. Call me instead.

He’d done all he could for the moment. Shutting down the phone, he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. The turmoil in his mind, aided and abetted by the dull throb of the bruising on his throat, ensured that it would be a long time coming.

<><>​

Squealer

The wrench slipped and Sherrel skinned her knuckles. She cursed, but it was more out of habit than from the pain. Besides, the tiny sting was nothing next to the great aching void in her chest that came from losing the one man she’d ever loved. Adam Mustain might have been a lowlife druggie supervillain, but he’d been her lowlife druggie supervillain.

Again, the image played out in her mind. Victor had been aiming a rifle right at her head, through the (not overly bulletproof) windshield of her current ride, and Adam had popped up with a length of pipe over his shoulder like a missile launcher. When the piece of rebar whipped out of it and harpooned Victor through the goddamn shoulder, she’d screamed in exhilaration. The fucking Empire had been sneering at the Merchants for way too long, and to see one of them go down in a bleeding heap was amazing.

But then everything went wrong. He’d grabbed up another piece of rebar and got ready to drop it in the back end of his little homemade railgun (she could make one that was ten times as good, but it would take her hours) with the blue-glowing end pointed at Kaiser. She figured—as he probably did too—that even if the bar didn’t punch through the Nazi asshole’s armour, it’d sure as hell send him ass over teakettle.

Except that Kaiser shot first. Adam’s wild cackle had stuttered off into a gurgle of blood as spikes erupted from the street all around him and pin-cushioned his body from a dozen different angles. He couldn’t even fall down, held up as he was. The makeshift launcher had fallen from his shoulder and slid down the spikes to the street, where she could see that the blue glow had faded.

She’d gone a little crazy then. Powering her ride into high gear and engaging the afterburners (because who doesn’t want jet engines on a tank?) she smashed aside half a dozen cars in a definitive attempt to run the leader of the Empire down and splatter him across the sidewalk. She would’ve succeeded too, but he’d put down some spikes that guided her one way while he went the other. At some point Aegis went under her tracks, but all she wanted was Kaiser’s broken, bleeding body on the ground in front of her. So she could drive over him again, then back up a few times.

The motherfucker needed to die, was what she was getting at.

In fact, all of the Empire needed to die.

And while she was making a list of assholes who would look a lot better in a pine box (or smeared all over the asphalt), the Protectorate and the PRT belonged on that list as well.

“Fuck it,” she said out loud, fitting the wrench on the nut once more. “Let’s just kill everyone in fucking Brockton Bay for you, Skids.” She was going to be leaving the city in her rearview sooner rather than later, but before she did that, she was going to show the whole fucking city why they shouldn’t have messed with her. And why they shouldn’t have killed her Skidsy.

Muttering to herself, she levered the plating off and let it fall to the floor with a clang. She needed to upgrade all over, if she was going to have a chance of fucking up everyone in Brockton Bay who’d had even the slightest connection to Skidmark’s death. More guns, bigger guns, more firepower. Also, reactive armour so if any asshole tried to rip open the tank to get to her, they’d get a faceful of shrapnel. Fortunately, the basic chassis was intact, but the outer hull had taken a beating before she got far enough away to engage the cloaking and break contact altogether.

“Anti-sniper point defence,” she decided. “Fuck Victor and the fucking horse he rode in on.” She’d be reducing her view to a narrow slit to discourage snipers, but she also wanted to put little guns all over that would pick the fuckers off before they could pull any tricky shit. Just in case.

A niggling doubt in the back of her mind told her that she was unlikely to be able to build shit with enough firepower, but she shoved it aside ruthlessly. She would do what she had to do.

<><>​

Armsmaster

Colin frowned as he pulled a device off his belt, made a few adjustments, and set it to scan the area. This particular section of the Trainyards had seen some sort of action very recently, or the damaged train cars and the melted switch lever were lying to him. He just didn’t know who would’ve been out here, or who they would’ve been fighting. Nobody had actually reported the fight, but sensors on the Protectorate headquarters had picked up one particular detonation from all the way out in the bay.

His frown deepened. The screen of the reader was showing half a dozen types of exotic energy, only one or two of which he could put a name to. It was easy to find the nexus point, but adapting his halberd as an antenna and prodding the area from six feet away achieved nothing significant.

“What happened here?” he mused, putting the halberd away and starting another sweep of the area.

“I’m not certain, but it’s definitely making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.” While Miss Militia was capable of cracking jokes, on this occasion her voice was entirely devoid of anything resembling humour. She cradled a rifle large enough to put a respectable hole in a charging rhino as she kept an eye on their surroundings.

Colin had been feeling the odd prickle at the back of his neck as well, but he kept silent about that. Changing settings on the scanner again, he swept it over the area, and paused. Flicking a switch on the side of the device, he bathed the area in light. “Does that look like wheel-tracks to you?” he asked.

After doing one more all-round sweep of their surroundings, Miss Militia looked down at the pool of light. After a moment, she nodded doubtfully. “Something as wide as a car, sure. It might even have hit that train car.” She pointed across at what looked like relatively recent impact damage.

“Except that it’s no longer here,” Colin pointed out. “The wheel-tracks start and stop there. But what else would create furrows in the gravel like that?”

“Wait. Shine the light over here.” Miss Militia moved alongside the purported wheel-tracks toward a small, dried-out tuft of grass that had somehow survived the night’s events. “There’s something right there.” She pointed her rifle barrel, adding the undermount flashlight beam to Colin’s illumination and picking out the gleam of metal.

“What is that?” Colin put the scanner away and unshipped his halberd once more. Moving up alongside Miss Militia, he used the grapple function to reach into the grass and lay hold of what lurked within. In the event, it turned out to be …

“A busted rear-vision mirror,” Miss Militia said in tones of mild disappointment. “Looks like it was torn from whatever it came off with Brute strength. Look how that metal’s twisted and compressed.”

“Well, now we know there was a motor vehicle of some kind here,” Colin said. “This mirror almost certainly came off it. The trouble is, we don’t know all the important information.”

“Who was driving it, where it came from, what happened while it was here, and where it went to,” Miss Militia summarised. “You’re thinking a teleporter?”

“I’m thinking a Tinker with a teleporter,” Colin amended the concept. “If his accuracy is less than perfect, driving through a portal into the Trainyards by accident and ramming a train car isn’t outside the realms of possibility.”

“And the other stuff?” Miss Militia gestured at the still-hot melted lever.

Colin had been thinking about that. “If there was an energy imbalance, the arrival or the departure might have caused that. And if the teleport is a field around the car and it fluctuated …”

“Say, because the vehicle rammed into a solid obstacle …” Miss Militia was clearly on the same page.

“Then the mirror could’ve been left behind when it teleported out.” Colin nodded. The theory fit all the evidence, even down to the stressed metal at the severance point. It looked as though it had been squeezed like taffy then pinched off altogether. Superficially, it could’ve fitted Miss Militia’s initial Brute theory, but teleportation was looking more and more likely all the time.

“So, has anyone heard from Leet since the fight?” asked Miss Militia, seemingly at random.

Colin shook his head, not because he didn’t think Leet capable of this, but in negation to the question. “Nothing. They might as well have dropped off the face of the earth. And if it was Leet who did this, that might not be a figure of speech.”

Miss Militia nodded slowly. They both knew of the propensity of Leet’s devices to fail in spectacular but—so far—non-lethal ways. A Tinkertech portal with an imprecise aiming mechanism could easily drop its user into a fatal situation even without blowing up in his face. “Well, all we can do is keep an eye out.”

“That’s usually the way, isn’t it?” Turning, Colin led the way back to where they had left their motorbikes. One more thing to write a report about. It had been a long night, and he hadn’t thought to bring along his fingerprint kit. Something like that could wait until morning, right?

<><>​

Bakuda

Alice had been walking for what felt like hours, which hadn’t improved her temper in any way. Still, she was back from that hellhole, in the land of McDonalds and hot showers and fresh underwear and no fucking dinosaurs, so there was that. Which meant that she was free to rebuild her shit and go after the Undersiders and the Wards and any other asshole who got in her way. Having to dodge overly-toothy feathered monsters, not to mention things that bore an uncomfortable resemblance to Bitch’s dogs at their most monstrous, was not her idea of a relaxing vacation away.

Of course, her next big problem was that she’d used up basically everything she had in the way of resources to build the portal-bomb that had delivered her back to Brockton Bay. It had been the kludgiest of kludges, and she’d estimated a twenty percent chance that it would either spread her all over half a mile of terrain or send her to a random alternate world, but she’d been rapidly running out of resources anyway. As it was, the Jeep had made the run on an empty radiator, given that she’d had to drain it dry and boil off the antifreeze for drinking water.

Which wouldn’t have been quite as much of a problem if she’d had access to one of her workshops. But each one she’d gone to had either been emptied of basically everything useful or had been sealed up tight by the PRT. So now she was reduced to slinking through the city in search of something, anything, she could use as an explosive device. Even a 7-11 would be perfect; sugar, flour, drain cleaner, refined chemicals of all sorts. Also, food. She’d have to shoplift the stuff, given that her coins and paper money had gone toward building the go-home bomb (circuitry and insulation, respectively) but a little petty theft had never bothered her in the slightest.

And then she smelt it. The acrid odour of one piece of metal being welded to another. Once scented, never forgotten. And for the vast majority of Tinkers, the very breath of life. Turning her head, she breathed deeply and attempted to isolate it. Where was it coming from? This was not an area of town she’d expect to find a garage open at this time of night.

Like a predatory cat, she stalked through the night, literally tracking her prey by scent. It grew stronger as she neared her goal, until she pushed open an ill-secured door and entered … heaven. Just for a moment, her brain manufactured the sound of a chorus of angels as she beheld a fully-stocked workshop; tools galore, and storage drums holding all kinds of volatile liquids.

With this shit, I could blow up the city. And that’s even without Tinkertech.

Across the other side of the workshop, she heard the crackling sound of a welding seam being laid down as harsh violet light played across the ceiling, then the tap-tap of the welding operator knocking away the slag to check on the bead. While she hadn’t been into building much in the way of big shit (her bombs tended to be on the small side), she was fully cognizant of the procedure.

There was a grunt of approval as she began to sneak closer. Whoever this was had to be wearing either a set of goggles or a full mask, which meant their peripheral vision would be shit right now. Without conscious thought into the matter, her right hand snaked out and took up a hefty wrench. All she had to do was get close enough, and the workshop would become hers.

The welding began again as she sneaked around the end of the vehicle taking up a large section of the workshop. She didn’t care who they were or what they were building; she just wanted their stuff. Her hand clenched around the handle of the wrench in anticipation. Brockton Bay is going to regret fucking me over. Starting with whoever the fuck this is.

Shielding her eyes from the glare with one arm, she eased closer. Ten more steps. Nine. Taking care not to kick loose tools or step on anything that might roll under her foot. Eight. Seven. The fumes from the welding stung her nose and throat, making her wish she hadn’t had to take apart the gas mask for components to use in the go-home bomb. Six. Five. She raised the wrench in anticipation. Four. Three. Two.

The welding arc cut out again, and the woman in the welding mask raised the darkened glass visor to observe her work. “I’ll get the assholes for you, Skidsy,” she said out loud, startling Alice, who thought for a moment she’d been spotted. “I’ll kill every last one of the motherfuckers. Make Brockton Bay into a fucking crater.”

As the woman laid down the electrode clamp holding the stick and took up a small hammer, Alice paused. If she was connecting the clues right, this was Squealer, a Tinker in her own right.

A pissed-off one. One who wanted to fuck up Brockton Bay almost as badly as Alice herself did.

Slowly, Alice lowered the wrench.

She could use talent like this.

<><>​

Squealer

When the person cleared their throat from just behind her, Sherrel nearly pissed herself. But she came around fast with the chipping hammer held up in a threatening position, ready to bury the sharp point in the skull of anyone who came too close. After a few seconds of panic, she realised that there was just one person; a woman with Asian features and bright blue eyes, leaning back against a tool cabinet with her arms folded, a heavy wrench dangling from one hand.

“What the fuck?” squawked Sherrel, fully aware that she’d been caught napping by the intruder. If the bitch had wanted to, she could’ve caved in Sherrel’s skull easily with that wrench. Which meant she’d chosen not to. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my fuckin’ workshop?”

“Hey, take a chill pill,” advised the taller woman. Her eyes bored into Sherrel’s. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

In her chosen line of work, Sherrel had associated with habitual liars more often than with the other type. After all, addicts would lie to themselves just as frequently as to others, if not more so. And there was literally no lie they would not tell to get themselves that next fix of the good stuff. So she was well-acquainted with the mind of the liar, having been down that road many times before herself.

The woman opposite her was lying in one way but not in another. If Sherrel had to guess, the intruder had come in here to cave Sherrel’s head in and rob the place blind, but for some reason had changed her mind. “Yeah?” Sherrel said challengingly. “What are you here for, then?”

With a smile, the woman stepped forward and held her hand out. “Alice Himawara, but you can call me Bakuda. And I’m here to fuck up every last cape in Brockton Bay.”

“What, really?” Sherrel stared at the woman. The build was right for Bakuda, and the hair too. There was no way she could tell from the voice or even the looks; the gas mask the bomb Tinker usually wore had utterly concealed every aspect of her facial features and tone of voice. “What’d they ever do to you? An’ where you been, anyway? I thought you left town after Lung and Oni Lee got caught.”

Apparently reminded of something that pissed her off greatly, Bakuda gritted her teeth. “They fucked with the ABB, and they fucked with me. I should’ve won, but instead I got sent to someplace where I had to watch my driver get eaten by something with far too many teeth. Nearly got me too, but I had a couple of bombs in reserve. Now I’m back, and I’m going to fuck them all up.”

Now Sherrel could place what unsettled her about the woman. She was fuckin’ nuts. Either she’d been that way all along, or the little side trip she’d just referred to had driven her around the twist. It was obvious in the voice and the eyes, once Sherrel knew what to look for. There went someone whose grasp on reality was tenuous at best, and who’d casually stab someone to death over the last chocolate bar in the fridge.

Still, her bombs could absolutely provide the firepower that Sherrel had been missing up until now. And if Bakuda wanted to blow shit up, who was Sherrel to argue?

“Sounds good to me.” Sherrel hooked her thumb toward the door to the back room. “Food in the fridge. Hot shower. Check the dresser for clothing; most of my stuff should fit you. Once you’re sorted out, we can talk.”

The wrench clanged on the floor and the door was already closing behind Bakuda before Sherrel had finished speaking. She shook her head and turned back to her welding. She’s nuts, sure. But she’s my kind of nuts.

Let’s fuckin’ do this.

<><>​

The Next Day

Taylor

There was a gentle onshore breeze, and seabirds soared and squawked over the Boardwalk. It seemed downright peaceful; I could almost imagine that yesterday’s cape brawl hadn’t even taken place, and people hadn’t died or been badly injured. But it had, and they had. Which was why Dennis was on patrol with me and Sophia; not to keep us from killing each other, but to provide safety in numbers.

Paradoxically, our job wasn’t to be a show of force; we were there to pretend that everything was okay, and that things were back to normal. Or whatever passed for normal in Brockton Bay, that is. Unfortunately, having fewer criminal capes on the scene was not necessarily a good thing. With Lung and Oni Lee in PRT holding cells and Bakuda (hopefully permanently) out of the picture, that left a power vacuum in a significant area of the city, which Kaiser wanted to claim for the Empire Eighty-Eight.

As yesterday had proven, he couldn’t just walk in and take it without facing determined opposition. But that opposition had not come without a price. Skidmark was dead, Mush was in custody and Squealer was on the run. More than a few of Protectorate capes had been messed up to one degree or another. The PRT could call on Panacea (and had in the past) but the rumour I’d heard was that she hadn’t moved from Glory Girl’s side since her sister had been injured, not even to heal Brandish. That is, she hadn’t healed her own mother.

“Earth Bet to Buzz. Come in, Buzz.” Dennis’ voice was joking. “What’s going on in the world of bugs?”

It only took me a split second to tap into the insects (and other things) I had patrolling invisibly around us. Swarms of crabs paralleled our motion offshore, and I even had earthworms under our feet ‘listening’ for odd vibrations through the earth with their whole bodies. Given yesterday’s shit-show, I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

“It’s clear all the way around,” I reported. My range was all the way out to four blocks at the moment, a distinct improvement on the usual, though I wasn’t totally certain as to why. “Oh, wait, no. There’s a mugging. Block and a half that way.” I pointed, just as a swarm of wasps swooped in at the perpetrator. “Well, there was.” After the wasps were done with him, the spiders were ready to move in and web him in place.

“Mugging? Shit.” Sophia’s voice expressed the disappointment that her mask was so good at hiding. “He’ll be long gone before we get there.”

I shook my head and smirked under my own mask. “Nope. He won’t. I’m just asking the victim if he can hang about until we get there. One perp. May as well get the cops to pick him up, yeah?”

“Hah!” The laugh was jerked out of her, and she offered a low-five which I returned. “That’s what I love about working with you, Buzz. You own the goddamn battlefield.”

Dennis shook his head, but his tone was amused when he spoke. “Everyone else would be terrified or freaked out, but you enjoy this crap. I’m not surprised you two work together so well. You’re both as crazy as the other.”

Sophia turned her head as if to glance at me, and I nodded slightly. We both moved up until we were right behind him; me at his left shoulder and Sophia at his right. “One of us,” we chorused in the creepiest voices we could manage. “One of us.” I added buzzing tones from my bugs as a fake echo.

“You know how I said you should freak people out? You just succeeded with me.” Dennis turned his head to survey us both. I got the impression he was pretending to glare at us from behind his opaque faceplate. “Just save it for the actual villains, okay?”

“You’re the boss,” I said in the most innocent tone I could manage. I was pretty sure I hadn’t succeeded in convincing him, and Sophia snorted in amusement, so she was probably a wash as well. Then again, I hadn’t been actually trying to fool him, just get it on record that I agreed he was in charge. Which he would be, right up until I needed to do something he didn’t agree with.

“And don’t you forget it,” he replied, his tone confirming my supposition. Then he cleared his throat and put his hand to the side of his helmet in the standard signal for ‘using the radio’. “Ah, Console, this is Clockblocker, over.”

As he was retransmitting to us so that we were all in the loop, I heard Browbeat’s reply. “Clockblocker from Console, go ahead, over.”

Idly, I wondered how many times people had stumbled over our team leader’s name when talking on the radio in the past. Part of me suspected it was why he’d called himself that.

“Yeah, Console, we have an attempted mugging at …” He trailed off questioningly.

“Broad Street, halfway between Lamont and Packard,” I supplied helpfully.

Dennis repeated my instructions. “If you could notify the police to swing by and pick up the perp, that would be nice, over.”

“Understood.” I heard typing in the background as Browbeat spoke. There was a pause. “Uh, I show you as still on the Boardwalk, about a block away from the location you’re talking about. Are you sure you’ve got it right? Over.”

“Absolutely.” Even though I couldn’t see Dennis’ face, the grin was audible in his voice. “Our very own Buzz was just demonstrating how a Master handles matters. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes, over.”

“I, uh, copy that, Clockblocker.” Browbeat sounded resigned. “I’m contacting the police now. Oh, and while I have you on the line, just for general information, two men identifying as Uber and Leet presented at Brockton Bay General about half an hour ago, suffering gunshot wounds. Uber is stable, but there’s some doubt as to whether Leet will pull through. There was verbal identification of Empire Eighty-Eight rank and file as the ones who attacked them. Over.”

“Clockblocker copies. Out.” Dennis closed the channel then glanced at the both of us. “You heard that?”

“Yeah. Damn.” Sophia sounded actually shaken. “Those two are assholes and fuckwits, but that’s over the top even for me.”

“I know, right?” I shook my head. “They might be the Greg Veder of capes, but that doesn’t mean we actually want them dead.”

“I don’t recognise that reference,” Dennis said. “Should I?”

“Nah,” Sophia assured him. “Just someone me and Buzz know. She’s not wrong, though. Being a clueless moron, even if you’re a villain, doesn’t automatically mean someone’s justified in kicking your door in and shooting you.”

“And the scary bit is, you actually had to say that part out loud,” Dennis agreed. “I think we’re all in agreement that Kaiser sent his goons to make sure they didn’t join in on the other side, yeah?”

“Which means he’s desperate.” I didn’t like what I was saying, but I said it anyway. “He’s committed to winning any way he can, which means he’s tossing the standard norms out the window. Just between me and you guys, I think it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”

Dennis sighed. “You’re not wrong, but I wish you hadn’t said it like that.”

“That makes three of us,” agreed Sophia.

<><>​

Kaiser

Max Anders considered his options.

Yesterday had been a mixed success. Only one cape had died; Skidmark had overstepped and paid the penalty. His death, Max decided, should serve the purpose of passing on a message. Specifically, ‘cross the Empire at your peril’.

No heroes had been killed, which was perhaps a good thing. Nobody wanted reinforcements flooding in from other cities. Or worse, the Triumvirate coming to town. It was mainly for that reason that he had given orders to go easy on the Wards; nothing would enrage the cape community faster than seeing the bodies of costumed kids on the news. A broken arm was one thing, but a broken neck was quite another.

In the absence of Othala, the bullet wound in Cricket’s calf muscle had been given standard first aid. It was a through-and-through that had missed all the major blood vessels, and she claimed to be strong enough to go into battle after stitching it up herself. Unfortunately, Menja still needed support to get around and Victor’s shoulder was an absolute mess. Getting the team’s Trump back was a high priority, and not just because Victor missed his wife. Without her, they were lacking a serious force multiplier that he’d gotten used to.

On the upside, a message had come in from Hookwolf that he was alive, though a ways down the coast. Max had sent men in a car to pick him up.

That was probably the one bit of good news he was going to get out of the whole shit-show. Stormtiger was back in PRT custody and Rune had been captured by a pair of Wards who hadn’t even been at the battle, after she’d split off to go after a couple of the Undersiders. With Kayden still refusing to rejoin the Empire Eighty-Eight (despite his disinformation campaign to spread it around that she was merely undercover for the moment) and with Night and Fog out of town, he was getting painfully low on capes. Right now, he’d even take Crusader back, if he could pry the little suck-up clear of Kayden’s orbit.

Which left him with the pressing question: did he keep pushing, capitalising on the gains already made, or did he pull back and admit that he couldn’t keep what he already had?

His pride demanded that he not simply roll over and concede defeat. The Empire needed a win out of this.

This wasn’t just about his pride, either. The Empire Eighty-Eight, though made up of the capes under Max’s command, was nothing without the rank and file, the believers in the Cause. His support base were the ones who showed up to hear him speak. If they lost faith and walked away now, the Empire was done.

All right then, he decided. He would compromise. “James.”

“Yes?” responded his sole remaining lieutenant (at least until Bradley got back).

“We’re going to wind things back a little. I want everyone off the streets; tell them to go home and get some rest, but to be ready to move in a couple of days’ time. Let them all know we’re luring the PRT into a false sense of security, but then we’re going to strike at the heart of the beast.”

James only needed a second or so to get his meaning. “The PRT. You want to break Othala out.”

“And Stormtiger and Rune, yes.” Max decided that he’d earned a little self-indulgence, and steepled his fingertips together. “Once Hookwolf gets back, we’ll have the throw weight to force our way in there and retrieve our people. And then …”

He didn’t need to keep going. With Othala on hand to provide regeneration and other powers at need, and with Cricket and Menja at full fighting form alongside Hookwolf and Stormtiger, the Empire Eighty-Eight would retake their place as Brockton Bay’s strongest cape alliance.

And if the opposition had any sense, they’d step back and let it happen.

<><>​

The Undersiders’ Hideout

Grue

When Brian came out of his room, Lisa was waiting for him. She had her arms folded, which was always a bad sign. It didn’t help that she was tapping her foot as well.

Whatever it was she wanted, she knew enough to stand aside while he went to the restroom. He considered waiting in there until she went away, but he knew damn well she wouldn’t. Still, he took as long as he dared then splashed cold water on his face. A little more awake, he opened the door and looked at her resolute face.

“Restroom’s free,” he said, and tried to ease past her. He knew it wouldn’t work, but he had to try anyway.

“I don’t want the restroom. We need to talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say.” Maybe if he refused to open up, she’d leave it alone?

“Fine. I’ll talk. You listen.” She hooked his arm with her hand, somehow managing to find the nerve point in his elbow on the first attempt, and towed him along behind her to the ad hoc dining room. He could’ve pulled free at any time, but at this point he knew resistance would cause more trouble than going along with what she wanted. When they reached their destination, she pointed at a chair. “Sit.”

Again, he considered just walking away, but the glint in her eye warned him otherwise. So he dragged out a chair, spun it around, and straddled it. “I’m sitting. Now what?”

She hitched her butt up on the corner of the table. “You’ve been dating Shadow Stalker.”

As an opener, it was a fairly effective one. He sat up straight, not even pretending not to pay attention anymore. “How in the living fuck did you know that?”

“Well, duh.” She rolled her eyes. “The big clue was when I saw on the news that Buzz and Shadow Stalker engaged Rune and Grue yesterday. Rune was captured; you weren’t. You came home wondering what the fuck to do. So, they let you go. There was another account of Shadow Stalker and Buzz chasing someone away from the scene, but they weren’t, were they? Shadow Stalker had just found out you were you, and she was running away from that knowledge. It was a surprise from both sides.” She tilted her head slightly. “Stalker tried to kill you again, Buzz stopped her, and that’s when you both learned about each other. That about right?”

He shrugged. “Dunno why I’m here. You seem to have all the answers.”

Rapping her knuckle once on the table, Lisa leaned forward. “You’re here because you need to figure out what you’re going to do, going forward. This is not something we can just ignore and walk away from. Has Stalker tried to contact you … no. She hasn’t. Buzz has. Okay, then. Stalker’s still an emotional mess about it. Buzz is being a good friend and helping her through it. Also, she’s trying to get in touch with you. What did she say when she texted you?”

He didn’t even need to get his phone out. “Call me. Please.”

“And you haven’t, of course.” Lisa huffed a sigh. “Because you’re such a fucking male that you can’t stand it when something’s not under your direct control. You don’t know what’ll happen if you call, so you won’t call.” Reaching out, she snapped her fingers twice. “Phone.”

Reluctantly, he dragged it out of his pocket. He had no idea how he’d gotten into this position or how to get out of it, but Lisa seemed to know what she was doing. He just hoped she wasn’t about to fuck him over.

“Thank you,” she murmured, twitching it out of his hand. Glancing at him a couple of times, she tapped on the screen; entirely without surprise, he saw the phone open up for her. “All right then …” She began to scroll through the numbers. “That would be Buzz’s call, and … huh. Shadow Stalker’s name’s Sophia? Sounds pretty ordinary for a raging murderous bitch.”

“She’s not—!” he began, then bit off his words as she glanced sideways at him. The corner of her mouth quirked upward. Fuck. She played me. Again.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” she mused obscurely. “You must have it bad. Okay, then. Imma call Buzz. You get to choose whether it’s me or you on this end.”

“I’ll make the call,” he said, the words slipping out of his mouth unbidden. “Buzz doesn’t know you. She might think I’m trying to set her up for something.”

“Awesome.” She tapped the ‘call’ icon, then put the phone on speaker. “We can both listen. You talk.”

“The others?” he asked quickly.

“Told ’em to keep out of it,” she assured him.

The phone rang again, then Taylor answered. “Hello?”

<><>​

Taylor

I had just finished de-webbing the would-be mugger and handing him over to the police when my phone rang. I gestured as such to Dennis and Sophia and they nodded, so I moved away from the group a little. When I saw Brian’s name on the screen, my heart nearly stopped for a moment. My eyes found Sophia, but I didn’t call her over. Not yet.

Swiping the answer icon, I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

Almost immediately, I got the impression the phone on the other end was on speaker. I decided to be extra cautious about what I said.

“Buzz?” It was Brian’s voice, full of pain. “Is that really you?”

I got it immediately. There was someone else there, and he was keeping my identity secret. This was a good sign. “Hey, it was as big a surprise to me as it was to you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. No thanks to her.” He sounded more angry than hurt now.

“I get it, I get it,” I assured him. “She’s got issues. We’re addressing some of them, but the one about you was something we were getting to. Now she’s having to face what she did. What she almost did. She’s hurting, Brian. She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t even know if what you and she had is still a thing.”

“Still a thing?” His laugh was hollow. “She tried to kill me. And it’s not the first time.”

That bit was news to me, though not a huge surprise. “Brian. I had my own issues with her before I ever had powers. When I first joined the Wards, I didn’t know who she was. She didn’t know me, either. We ended up as partners. Watching each other’s backs. Saving each other’s lives. Meanwhile, outside the mask, we hated each other’s guts.”

“So what happened when you unmasked to each other?” he asked bitterly. “Kiss and make up? You seem pretty chummy now.”

“Hah, nope. I broke her jaw.” I didn’t even know why I was saying this. Well, I did, to be honest. I wanted to save what Brian and Sophia had. “When I told them what she’d been doing, she nearly ended up in juvey. Again. But I decided that what I had with her in costume was more important than the shit between us outside the Wards. So I gave her a second chance. And I’ve never regretted it.”

The silence that followed was so long that I checked the phone to see if the call had dropped out. It hadn’t. So I waited.

When Brian spoke again, his voice sounded different. Almost hopeful. “What did she do to you, before you joined the Wards?”

I hadn’t told him she’d done anything in particular, but it was a valid question. “We’d need more time than this phone call to cover everything in detail, but in short? She fucked my life up for more than a year over petty teenage bullshit. For her piece de resistance, she and her friends shoved me in my locker with some pretty nasty shit and locked me in for about an hour. So yeah, we had issues.”

“Oh.” In the background, I could’ve sworn I heard someone gagging. Maybe he had the TV on? “How can you forgive her for all that?”

“I didn’t, not really. I just moved past it.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest. She’s done bad shit that I’m not actually okay with, but she’s trying hard to be a better person, and I can appreciate that. As my partner in the Wards, she’s got my back. When Oni Lee came after me personally, she could’ve run. But she stayed, and she took him on more or less single-handedly, and she won. Saved my life. That gives her a lot of leeway, in my book.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Thanks for telling me that.”

“One more thing.” I waited to see if he’d say something. He didn’t. “After what happened with you, she was a total mess. She looked me in the eye and asked me for help.” I lowered my voice instinctively. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen her cry.”

“Jesus.” The exclamation was jerked out of him. “I don’t even know how to address that.”

“Call her,” I said simply. “Please. Just to talk. Not right now—we’re on patrol—but maybe later. Yell at her if you want. I think she wants to be yelled at by someone. But don’t just … throw it all away. Not without giving her a second chance. Please?”

Again, there was a long silence. “I’ll think about it. No promises. Thanks, Buzz. For everything.” Then I heard the tone for the end of the call.

Slowly, I put my phone away. I didn’t know if I’d helped or hurt their situation, but I’d had to say something.

Sophia looked up as I came back over to them. The mugger was now in custody, and the police were talking to the prospective victim. “Hey, you okay?” she asked.

I was pretty impressed at her perceptiveness, given that I was wearing a full-face mask. “I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping it was true. “We done here?”

“Just about,” Dennis said, coming over to us. “The cops just need a statement about how you bugswarmed the guy and we can go.”

“Pfft,” I muttered. “I barely touched him. The big wimp.”

Sophia snorted with amusement and elbowed me in the arm. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

<><>​

Tattletale

She patted him on the arm as he ended the call. “Feel better now?”

“Yeah, but not a lot,” he said grudgingly. “I mean, Taylor’s okay with me but I still haven’t heard from Sophia.”

“You told me they were besties,” Lisa reminded him. “Do you honestly think Taylor wouldn’t talk to her and try to bring her around?”

“Yeah, but … I dunno … shit!” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I have no fuckin’ idea what to do now.”

Lisa sighed. “It’s very simple. Do you want to sever ties and go back to the way you were before?”

The answer popped out before he would’ve had time to think about it. “No!”

“Then do you want to fix matters?” She tried to be gently prompting. Romance wasn’t something she ever wanted to get into, but that wasn’t because it was confusing to her. In her opinion, people made it way too complicated.

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

She prodded him ungently in the ribs. “Wrong question. You don’t start building bridges from her end. You start from your end. Now come on, get up.”

“What? Why?”

This is worse than trying to get Alec to clean the bathroom. “We’re going out for a drive. Down to the Boardwalk or someplace like that.”

He tilted his head to look at her suspiciously. “Are you trying to arrange a meet cute in and out of costume? Because we kinda did that already. It’s how we got into this mess in the first place.”

While that wasn’t a bad idea, she snorted and shook her head. “We’re going to find a gift shop and you’re going to buy her something decorative and useless that she’ll swoon over, because it will prove you still care about her. And then, maybe tomorrow, unless she’s already called, we’ll call her again and set up a neutral meeting where you can give her the gift, and you two can talk it out already. Got it?”

“Oh.” But he got up. “Okay, I’ll get my wallet.”

Finally.

Lisa was profoundly grateful that Alec and Rachel weren’t dating anyone. Just fixing Brian’s love life was way too stressful, and he was the most normal of them all.

<><>​

Othala’s PRT Holding Cell

Coil

In one timeline, Commander Thomas Calvert sat opposite the prisoner, his demeanour immaculate, his voice measured. “Are you absolutely certain you don’t wish to give me anything about your employer?” His tone was the epitome of reason. “I’ll be certain to put it into your record for the trial. Who knows; we might even manage to score you a place in the Protectorate. After rebranding, of course.”

He knew damn well she wouldn’t take him up on it. Even in the other timeline, where he was being somewhat rougher about questioning her, she’d been extremely stubborn about giving up any information at all. Fortunately, he had zero scruples about doing lasting damage, so she’d talked. As had Rune before her. Despite being full of teenage bravado, young Tammi had been a lot easier to break, though she hadn’t known nearly as much as Othala did.

He’d only drawn that interrogation out as long as he had because it was fun.

In the other timeline, as the broken, bloodied woman choked out what he wanted to know past shattered teeth, Piggot’s outraged guards finally managed to force the door open. It didn’t matter. He’d got what he needed.

He closed that timeline and gave Othala an austere smile. “Well, if you’re absolutely certain? A little cooperation goes a very long way, you know.”

Glaring at him from across the cell, Othala gave him the finger. “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, you bl—”

“What Ms Othala means,” the PRT duty lawyer interrupted hastily, “is that she does not intend to make any statements before the trial.”

Thomas shrugged lightly and got to his feet. He closed the notebook, upon the first page of which he had written a single line—Prisoner uncooperative—and rapped at the door to the cell. “I’m ready to leave now.”

The door opened and he favoured the supervillain and her lawyer with a slight nod. “Good day to you.” As he left the cell, he was going over the information she’d given him in his head. Also, on the second page of the notebook—now secure within his pocket—were all the names she’d revealed under torture. Names he’d suspected and wondered about, but now had proof of.

It’s a good day to be me.

<><>​

Squealer

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” complained Sherrel. “We’ve been through Empire Eighty-Eight territory three times, and there’s not a single fuckin’ cape or skinhead to be seen!” She adjusted the controls on the stealthed tank and it turned the corner neatly, barely even mounting the pavement a little bit. From the inside, it was thirty tons of rumbling monster travelling on broad tracks. The outside; less so. Nobody saw or heard a thing unless they were within about two yards of it. The light didn’t go anywhere, and the sound and vibration were redirected downward into the ground in a diffuse pattern.

“I kind of noticed that myself,” Bakuda agreed. “Are you certain they haven’t packed up and moved cities in the last few days? There’s not even any Hitler Youth around tagging the walls.” As she spoke, she finished constructing yet another one of her useful little devices. The movement of the tank might have caused her problems with this, but she’d managed to rig up a stable work surface that negated the vibration and swaying.

“They were all up in everyone’s grille yesterday,” Sherrel reminded her. “I saw Kaiser just fuckin’ murder Skidmark, right in front of me. Why the hell hasn’t the PRT arrested and Birdcaged that Nazi asshole already? That’s what I want to know.”

Bakuda shrugged. “Maybe they don’t care? It suits them to have the Empire keeping everyone scared until the PRT and the Protectorate come in and do the ‘big damn hero’ thing.”

“So what you’re saying …” Sherrel’s voice was thoughtful. “Are you saying the PRT and Protectorate are in on it with the Empire?”

“Well, why the fuck not?” Bakuda gave Sherrel a broad grin that didn’t make her look any less crazy. “They’ve arrested Hookwolf before, but every time they try to send him to the Birdcage, he ‘escapes’. Sounds pretty convenient to me.”

“Right, then. Fuck this shit. Let’s go play with the big boys.” Sherrel jolted the tank into a higher gear, and gouged a little concrete out of the curb going around the corner. “Time to go see how many licks it takes to get to the centre of a Tootsie Pop. Or PRT building. Whichever happens first.”

“All-right!” cackled Bakuda. “And I know just the party favour to start the festivities off with.” She rummaged around in the racks that held the bombs she’d already constructed, then came up with one that had ‘Fuck You’ written on it. Pulling down the loading rack for the big overhead launcher, she inserted the bomb into it. “Ready to rock and roll when you are.”

<><>​

Coil

“Did you get what you wanted, sir?” asked the guard on the desk as Thomas handed in the pass he’d been issued for the prison level.

“No,” he sighed, pretending disappointment. “Well, that’s me for the day. I just came in hoping the prisoners would have information useful to me. Surprise, surprise, they weren’t willing to talk.”

“Yeah, that’s a shocker,” agreed the guard. “I suppose they’re expecting their homeboys to bust them out any day now.” He chuckled. “Might be a bit harder when we’ve got two of their heavy hitters right here behind bars.”

Thomas smiled tightly in acknowledgement. “I can’t wait to see their faces when they actually go to trial. Actions have consequences, after all.” For everyone but me.

“Can’t argue with that. Have a good day, Commander.”

“You, too.” Thomas went over to the elevator and took it up to the garage level.

His car was as nondescript as it could get, and the secondary exit for the PRT underground parking garage let out from what appeared to be a commercial parking lot. He approved of the security measures and made use of them whenever he could. Someone like him didn’t get where they were without exercising caution whenever they could, after all.

He would’ve been happier if his pet could have given him a prediction on today’s events, but they’d been working on a new formulation of her ‘candy’ and it hadn’t agreed with her. So he’d gotten as far as finding out that Rune and Othala could give him actionable intel on the Empire Eighty-Eight, and that he wouldn’t fall under suspicion for interrogating them, then given the rest of the questions a miss. It wasn’t as though he was going to launch a criminal endeavour today, after all. Drive to the PRT building and drive home (or to his base) again. It was as simple as that.

As he paused at the boom gate for the faux commercial parking lot, he split time. In one timeline, he got his phone out and dashed off a quick text to Creep to meet him at the usual place. The boom gate rose and he checked left and right to find the street completely clear. In both timelines, he drove out onto the street. One version of him turned left as his thumb tapped the last few characters and hit Send; the other, undistracted by any such thing, turned right.

When the tank appeared out of nowhere, the first version of him could possibly have escaped or swerved out of the way, but he was concentrating on his phone. By the time he wrenched his attention back to controlling the car, it was too late.

The second version of him had no chance at all. Between one instant and the next, the tank was right in front of him. His car went under it and the wide tracks climbed up and over, compressing it to a fraction of its height in mere seconds. The last thing that went through his mind was his spinal column.

The first version almost managed to bail out of the car in time.

<><>​

Coil’s Underground Base

Mr Pitter

As the male nurse was making sure that the girl’s IV drip was feeding her the correct amount of nutrients, she began to giggle.

At first, he dismissed it as a side effect of the new drug regime, but the giggles continued. They seemed to involve actual humour rather than hysteria, which puzzled him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, with some concern.

She giggled again. “He’s gone. Never coming back.”

The giggles became full-fledged laughter.

<><>​

Bakuda

“What the fuck?” Squealer wrestled the tank back into line. “We just ran over some stupid fuck! He just drove out in front of us!”

“Stop the tank, stop the tank!” Alice lunged for the hatch.

“What? Why?” But Squealer pulled the unwieldy vehicle to a juddering halt anyway. “Pretty sure he’s dead.”

“Just before he went under the tank, I saw a uniform,” Alice said tersely. “I think he’s PRT. There might be useful shit in that car.” She pulled the hatch open. “Wait here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” muttered Squealer. “You can go mess with squished dead bodies. I’m good right here.”

Ignoring her, Alice clambered out onto the top deck of the tank, then jumped down and strode back to where the remains of the car leaked oil and gasoline across the asphalt. As she’d thought, the driver had almost managed to get out of the car in time, but the tracks had crunched the roof down over his pelvic and lower abdominal area. Without direct intervention from Panacea, and possibly even with it, he was going to die soon.

As she approached him, he scrabbled weakly for where he probably normally wore his pistol, but it was nowhere to be seen. “Hey,” she said conversationally. “Got anything I might find interesting? Make it worth your while.”

He tried to reach for her. “Help,” he rasped. “PRT … you’ve got to help me … please …”

“Yeah, nah.” She kicked him in the face, then did it again because it felt so good the first time. Teeth scattered across the blacktop. He stopped trying to grasp her boots.

Going down on one knee, she quickly frisked his upper body, which was all she could reach. Buttoned into one top pocket, she found a notepad, which she extracted from its hiding place.

“No …” he gurgled. “Mine …” Feebly, he tried to take it back.

Grabbing one of his fingers, she bent it back until it snapped, then stood up. Flipping back the cover revealed the front page, which read Prisoner uncooperative. It said nothing else and she was about to discard it when an instinct had her flip to the next page. He’d really wanted it back, after all.

What she saw then made her eyebrows raise dramatically.

Kaiser – Max Anders

Hookwolf – Bradley Meadows

Krieg – James Fliescher (sp?)

Her grin widened dramatically as she skimmed down the list of names. “Oh, yes,” she muttered. “Oh, fuck me, yes.”

Snapping the notebook closed, she looked down at the dying man at her feet. His breath stuttered in his throat as he stared back up at her. She grinned back savagely and opened the notebook again, right to the back where there was no writing. Tearing out a couple of pages, she crumpled them loosely then pulled out a cigarette lighter. It was the work of a moment to light the paper then she tossed it into the spreading pool of gasoline.

Tucking the notebook and lighter into her own pocket, she turned and strode back to the tank and climbed onboard, ignoring the crackling flames and muffled screams from behind her. When she let herself down into the hatch, Squealer turned to look at her. “So, you find anything?”

Alice grinned. “Did I. Got us a new target.”

“Yeah? Where?”

The grin grew wider, and Alice felt a giggle threatening to burst free. “The Medhall building.”

“Really? What’d they do to you?”

“Tell you on the way there.”

Let’s see how long they play hide and seek now.



End of Part Eight

 

Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Part Nine: All Out

[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: Actual last chapter, woo!]

[A/N 3: Don’t forget to check out the epilogues.]

Taylor

“Medhall building’s up ahead,” Dennis announced. “Let’s stop in, do a civilian visit. Chat with security, make sure everything’s quiet around here, take five before we move on.”

“I’m down with that,” I agreed. “Stalker?”

“… sure,” Sophia agreed absently. “We can do that.” But she was looking around, tilting her head as if trying to hear something.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Dunno.” There was a frown in her voice. “Something’s not right. Can’t tell what. Call it a feeling.”

I wasn’t about to distrust her feelings. My swarm was already out and about; I told it to look alive and start earning its keep. The rooftops, such as they were in the business district, were clear. No ninjas lurked just out of eyesight to ambush us. Since Oni Lee, I hadn’t even considered that a joke.

“Rooftops clear,” I murmured. “Anything airborne?”

Sophia stretched her arms above her head and turned in a slow circle. “Nothing,” she reported back.

Then I noticed something weird. A low-grade vibration, too gentle to feel even through the soft soles of the boots I’d donned for this patrol. But the groundbound bugs and local earthworms (though all too few) were detecting something. Unfortunately, I couldn’t pinpoint it yet.

“Got a vibration,” I said quietly. “Not sure of the source. I think it’s coming closer.”

By now, we were outside Medhall proper. We climbed the steps to the doors, and I paused to put my gloved hand against one of the faux-marble pillars that flanked the entrance. If I really concentrated, I thought I could feel it with my fingertips. Or maybe I was just fooling myself.

“So tell Clockblocker,” murmured Sophia.

“You know, you can tell him too,” I retorted.

She sighed, aggravated. “I’m the trouble Ward. You’re the responsible one. He’ll listen to you more.”

I could tell she wasn’t going to budge on this. “Okay. Come on. We’ll both tell him.”

Dennis had already gone inside, so we stepped forward and followed him. I caught up to him just as he got to the security desk, Sophia trailing a few steps behind me. “Clockblocker,” I said. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Despite my carefully neutral tone, he looked at me immediately. “Back in a sec, guys,” he said, then stepped away to join me. “What’s up?”

I glanced at Sophia and back to him. “Shadow Stalker has a bad feeling about something,” I said quietly. “And my bugs are picking up a weird vibration that’s getting closer and closer. But there’s nobody on the rooftops and nothing in the air.”

“Underground, maybe?” he asked at once.

“It’s a possibility,” I agreed. “I’m having trouble pinpointing it, though.”

He glanced from me to Sophia and back again. “And you’re both absolutely certain about this.”

Sophia nodded. “Totally.”

“One hundred percent,” I added.

“All right, then.” He put his hand to the side of his helmet. “Clockblocker to console, over.”

“Console here, Clockblocker. Over.” Kid Win had replaced Browbeat on the console.

“We’re at the Medhall building. Shadow Stalker and Buzz have reported an unusual sensory effect, a vibration, that may be parahuman in origin. I’m about to ask security to lock the building down and get ready to evacuate for their own safety. Can you copy the PRT and Protectorate in on this, please? Over.”

Sophia and I shared a glance. Before Clockblocker had become Wards leader, he probably would have made some jokes about vibration that might’ve landed him in hot water. Now, he was taking it totally seriously.

“Ah, roger that, Clockblocker. Alerting PRT and Protectorate now. You say you’re at Medhall, right? Over.”

“That’s correct, console. We’re …”

I tuned him out as something weird showed up on my bug senses. Bug sight was crap at the best of times, but to have an entire vehicle only pop into view when it got within a certain distance? That was pushing matters a bit far. I brought several more bugs into this area, and landed them on the thing as it trundled out of a sidestreet. What was it?

The first thing they registered was vibration. Lots and lots of vibration.

Then, as more bugs landed and roved over the thing, I started to get an idea of its size and shape. It was very … tank like. Even down to the caterpillar tracks. And oh wait, were those guns? They certainly felt like guns.

I realised several things at once.

It was a cloaked tank with guns on it.

It was clearly up to no good (well, duh!)

Squealer was back.

None of this was good news.

It rumbled to a halt opposite the Medhall building. The bugs I had on the gun-barrels detected a swing in my general direction, including the scary big one on top.

I had a really, really bad feeling about this.

<><>​

Kaiser

“Understood. Good work.” Max put the phone down and turned to James. “They just picked up Bradley. Would you believe he got tossed a good fifteen miles?”

“I’m very impressed,” the cape otherwise known as Krieg replied. “One, that he was thrown so far. Two, that he survived the experience.”

“Well, he says he landed in water, and skidded onto land,” Max allowed. “And he only woke up half an hour before he called in for the pickup.” It would be good to have Hookwolf back on the strength again, especially when they went in to spring their comrades out of PRT holding.

“So after we get the others back, what’s our priority?” asked Krieg. “Take the territory, or crush the other gangs and then take the territory?”

That was actually a good question. Even with Othala’s attention, Victor’s shoulder would take a while to heal properly. Still, Cricket and Menja were both heavy hitters in their own way.

The Merchants, if he was understanding things, had gone the same way as Uber & Leet and the ABB; those that were not dead were in PRT custody. So the Empire only really had to worry about the Undersiders, the Travellers and Coil’s goons. There were of course the heroes to contend with but they’d suffered losses by injury as well, and they would be outnumbered once he had all his people back in the ranks.

“I think …” he mused out loud, then took the time to drain his glass, savouring the taste of the bourbon. “We’ll feint toward the territory, but once the gangs start mobilising on us, we turn on them and crush them utterly. No kid gloves, not like with the heroes. If they stand against us, they die.”

He reached for the bottle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool glass a massive shockwave tore through the office. It wasn’t so much a sound as an immaterial impact on all of his organs at once. He found himself lying on the carpet beside his upturned chair, the neck of the bottle lying nearby. Where the rest of it was, he had no clue.

Trying to marshal his whirling thoughts, he levered himself painfully to a sitting position. “James?” he called out, but his voice echoed oddly in his head. He put his hand to his ear and felt a warm wetness trickling down. Looking around at the breath of air against the back of his neck, he realised that every window in the office was gone.

Shatterbird? he wondered dully. Are the Nine in town? I hadn’t heard.

Reaching up and grasping the edge of the desk, he pushed himself to his feet. Just as he did so, another explosion tore through the building; not as strong as the first one, it merely sent him to one knee. What’s going on? I can’t … do I have a concussion?

A hand fell on his shoulder and he turned as fast as his spinning head allowed. James had suffered a cut over one eye, and was bleeding from both nostrils, but his eyes were awake and alert. “Max, we have to go!” he shouted. At least, Max thought he was shouting, but his voice was barely audible. “We’re under attack! The building’s on fire!”

The world suddenly clicked into focus. Whether it was those two words, or if his brain had chosen that moment to switch on, he didn’t know. “Got it,” he said crisply. His watch was still on his wrist, though the crystal was shattered. Swiftly, he began covering himself with armour as he moved with James to the secondary exit; the one not shown on the official building plans.

The elevator didn’t seem to be working; at least, a blinking red light said that it had taken itself out of commission. But there was a stairwell.

Which had smoke coiling up out of it.

James hesitated, but Max pushed forward. “If we can get past where the smoke’s getting in, we’re home free.”

“Max, there is no place where smoke can get in. Or there shouldn’t be.”

“Shit.” Krieg was right. Which meant that he would have to go down the public stairs. Which meant …

“You have to lose the armour.”

“Or risk outing myself and everyone at Medhall. Gotcha.” With a grimace, Max shed the armour, letting it clatter to the floor, and hurried to the door leading out of his office.

Outside was organised chaos. Max had inherited Medhall from his father, and he’d made sure to keep up with industry standard safety regulations. That included fire and cape-attack drills every few months. Not that anyone had ever thought capes would attack, but they went through the motions and ticked off on the sheets that it had been done.

There were four official sets of fire stairs in the building. Max’s unofficial stairwell and elevator shaft was quite close to one, and he noticed that there was a large OUT OF ORDER sign on that stairwell. “What’s that about?” he asked the woman in the safety vest standing near it.

“Mr Anders!” she exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

He still wasn’t hearing all that well, but he picked up her meaning. “I’m fine,” he said impatiently. “Why is that stairwell closed?”

“It’s been breached,” she said firmly. “There’s fire and smoke coming up.”

“Breached?” Max looked dumbly from her to the sign to Krieg. “What could’ve breached it?”

“We don’t know,” she said. “They just told us it was a cape attack.”

To underline her statement, yet another concussion shook the building. This time, the juddering, groaning noise took a long time to go away. Max looked at James, and they both came to the same conclusion. Let’s get out of here.

People were filing down the stairwell in a steady progression. Nobody was panicking just yet, but each subsequent shuddering BOOM raised the overall level of trepidation. Max kept pace with James, feeling his head clearing a little more with each step. Nobody was listening to them; everyone was concentrating on the next flight of stairs, and probably cursing the fact that they worked so high up in the building.

“Who do you think it is?” asked Max, trying not to lose his breath. There were very few high-impact Blasters native to Brockton Bay. In fact, he could only think of one. He’d been married to her for two years.

“You think it’s her?” asked James, clearly following his train of thought.

“I wouldn’t have thought so.” Max had trouble believing it even now. While Kayden might be headstrong, she would never oppose him directly. But now the building was groaning and creaking nonstop even between the bone-shaking explosions. He knew of nobody else who could throw out that sort of power.

People were still moving down, which meant there was a clear way out. He hoped.

And once I’m out of here, as soon as I find out who’s doing this, they’re dead.

<><>​

Shadow Stalker

The first warning Sophia got was when Taylor screamed “Oh, shit!” at the top of her lungs. Grabbing Sophia and Dennis each around the waist, she power-drove them past the desk toward the rear of the building, using strength that Sophia hadn’t suspected she possessed. “Everyone get to cover, right now! There’s an invisible tank—”

BOOOOOOM

The lobby dissolved in fire and flying glass. Sophia went to shadow just before bits of debris whipped through her immaterial form, giving her a most uncomfortable sensation; but still better than having it go through her for real.

Slowly, she reformed and looked around, then coughed at the smoke. There was broken glass everywhere, and chunks of fake stone from the walls. “What the fuck was that?” she managed, then coughed again.

“Not totally sure,” Dennis replied, crawling out from under Taylor, who was frozen in mid-lunge. A couple of wickedly sharp pieces of broken glass were resting on the bug controller’s back; Sophia suspected that if Dennis hadn’t done his time-freeze thing on her, they’d be embedded in her spine by now. “When the place blew, I just reacted.”

“She said something about an invisible tank.” Sophia shook her head, trying to dispel the last of the uncomfortable ringing sensation. It didn’t help that there was a real ringing in her ears, with the fire alarms all going off. And then, of course, the sprinklers decided to get in on the action.

Another explosion rocked the building, almost throwing them off their feet. Either it wasn’t as bad as the first one, or their senses were still numbed. Still, it was bad enough. She heard a shout from Dennis, then was pushed off balance by a shove. Sprawling awkwardly on the floor, she rolled to her feet. The sharp comment died on her lips as she saw him on the floor, under more debris.

“Fuck, Clock, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

Scrambling over to him, she knelt beside the prone Ward and pushed the bits of ceiling off him. Nothing seemed to be sticking out of him, and he wasn’t bleeding anywhere, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Carefully, she reached up under the rim of his helmet, to where each Ward had a clear spot to feel the throat pulse. His was strong and steady; she exhaled a sigh of relief.

The rest of her first-aid training didn’t cover this sort of situation. While he was only about her size, his body armour and the lack of traction (water on marble floors was a double whammy) meant she couldn’t drag him anywhere without risking further injury. Taylor, still frozen with his power, was the least in danger right now.

Backup. Gotta call in backup.

Reaching up under her mask, she activated her radio. “Shadow Stalker to Console, come in, dammit! The Medhall building’s under attack by a fuckin’ invisible tank and Clock’s down. We need backup, right the fuck now!”

She paused, waiting for a response.

All she heard was a vaguely melodic warbling.

“Shadow Stalker to Console. Come in. You hearing me?”

Nothing.

Another explosion shook the building and she looked up apprehensively, but everything that seemed likely to fall down had already done so. “Shadow Stalker to Console, fuckin’ come in, goddamn it!”

More warbling.

Jamming. It has to be. “Motherfucker!”

Doors opened and people started to spill out into the lobby. Sophia jumped up, waving her arms frantically. “Not out this way!” she shouted. “Back way! Go the back way!”

“What? Why?” This was a suit-and-tie guy, who was already panting from walking down stairs. “This is the short way out!”

She took three strides to get to him, grabbed him by the stupid fucking tie, and pulled his face down to her level. “Because there’s an invisible fuckin’ tank shooting at the fuckin’ building, you stupid fuckwit!” she screamed. “Now get out the fuckin’ back way!”

When she released him, he stumbled back a few steps. But that was when three others pushed past him and Sophia both. “Fuck you!” one yelled. “I’m getting out of here!”

They got as far as the rubble-strewn opening that had once been the entrance to the main lobby, and a crackle of laser fire sounded. All three went down, smoking from multiple cauterised through-and-through holes. They hadn’t even had time to scream. Their wounds steamed gently as the water spray hit them.

The first man Sophia had stopped stared, aghast. “Uh … I’ll go the back way,” he mumbled.

“Gooood plan.” She gave the rest of the people the stink-eye, as best she could in her mask, and stepped back. “Okay, need to get backup somehow,” she muttered, trying to cudgel ideas out of her brain. “Tank’s jamming the radio. How about phone?”

Congratulating herself for being a genius, she dived into her pouches. Only to find that the one holding her work phone—with all the appropriate numbers for the Wards and PRT—was open, the phone missing. All this running and diving and shit must’ve jolted the pouch open. Fuck.

She briefly considered going for Dennis’ phone, but she knew his would also be passcode-locked, just like hers. But there was another phone in there, her personal one.

Slowly, she pulled it out. She never bothered to code-lock it, so it opened to a touch of her thumb. There were only a few numbers in it now, since she’d brushed Emma, Madison and the rest of that toxic bunch of bitches out of her life for good. Mom, Terry, Taylor …

… and Brian.

Fuck.

She liked Brian, quite a lot. More than she’d liked any boy before, ever. He was tough and cool and didn’t take any shit from anyone. The sort of guy she could see herself with.

And the last time she’d seen him, she’d been trying her best to strangle him to death.

If anything would put a damper on a relationship, that was at the top of the list.

The bizarre thing was, knowing he was Grue didn’t make her like him any less. She wanted to know where they stood, but she didn’t want to have to ask.

Taylor had hinted that she was trying to get in touch with him, but she hadn’t mentioned anything since.

Fuuuuuuck.

Well, the worst he can do is tell me to fuck off.

She tapped the icon for his number.

<><>​

Grue

The statuette of the raven had its wings spread wide, on the verge of taking off. It was dark and powerful, with black glass wing-feathers, and Brian had zeroed straight in on it. Lisa nodded thoughtfully. “It definitely sends a message,” she said. “I like it.”

“I hope she does too.” Brian watched as the shop assistant carefully wrapped it for transport. “I hate this bullshit.”

Lisa gave him a perceptive look; she knew exactly what he meant, he could tell. The hero-villain bullshit, locking people into mindsets until he and Sophia had only seen each other as an enemy to be beaten when they were in costume. Fortunately, Sophia had Taylor to reach out for her—

His phone rang. Eyes widening, he met Lisa’s gaze. “Get the package, will you?” he asked and stepped out of the shop, ignoring her snarky what am I, your personal servant?

When he saw Sophia’s name on the screen, his heart nearly stopped. He’d been waiting and hoping for a call, but now that it had come … “Fuck it,” he muttered, and swiped to answer. The phone went immediately to his ear. “Hello?” he croaked, his throat suddenly dry.

“Brian.” Her voice was crisp, no-nonsense. “I know I’ve got no right to ask anything from you. Especially with what I’ve done. Especially to you. But Taylor and me and Clockblocker are pinned down, and it’s looking bad. We need backup. If not for me, at least for Taylor. Please?”

It was the ‘please’ that got him. Sophia never begged, never showed weakness. And yet here she was, pleading with him. “Where are you?” Grabbing the keys out of his pocket, he hustled to the car.

“Medhall building. Taylor’s frozen and Clockblocker’s unconscious. There’s a great big fuck-off invisible tank across the road blowing up the building and firing lasers at everything that moves.”

Brian wrenched the car door open, the key in the ignition and the engine starting before he even had his seatbelt on. He’d thought he’d heard distant explosions, but he’d been consciously ignoring them. “I’m on the way. Hold tight.” Gunning the engine, he peeled out of there, ignoring Lisa’s indignant yell from far behind him.

<><>​

Fenja

Jessica started increasing in size as soon as they were out of the secret exit, half a block away from the Medhall building. “What’s the plan?” she asked, already missing her sister’s presence. But Nessa’s knee was still broken, thanks to that bitch Glory Girl. In fact, the only combat-worthy capes the Empire had on hand right now (apart from Kaiser and Krieg, who were actually in the building itself) were herself, Alabaster and Cricket. The latter bore a bandage around her right calf, memento of a shot from Miss Militia, but she swore she could still fight. Not so Victor, whose right arm was in a sling and likely to remain so until they could spring Othala.

“I’ll draw fire,” Alabaster stated, checking his pistols. “Cricket, you go in sneaky, try to confuse them. Fenja, once they’re engaged in trying to kill me, come in over the top and crush the motherfuckers.”

It was a plan. Victor probably could’ve come up with a better one, but there were only the three of them. Any course of action necessarily had to be relatively simple. “Okay, then.” Slinging her shield on her back, Jessica leaned down and scooped up her teammates. “Let’s go get these assholes.”

Covering the half-block of distance was a snap, with legs that could cover fifty and sixty feet at a stride. Doing so while keeping out of view of whatever was bombarding the Medhall building was somewhat more difficult. As for the building itself … it was a mess.

First off, there was a hole blown right through it, about halfway up. Flames and smoke poured from the ragged twenty-foot-wide aperture, while other sections had been blown away, or even melted in some unnatural fashion. Jessica was impressed that the thing was still standing. If this attack kept up, it wouldn’t be, and Kaiser was still inside.

Crouching, she placed Cricket on a convenient rooftop and Alabaster on the ground. It was awkward to get her shield back into place on her arm, but she did it anyway. “Let me know when it’s time to move,” she said as quietly as she could.

Cricket nodded. “You’ll know.”

<><>​

Taylor

“There’s an invisible tank and it’s—!” I stopped, throwing out my hands to prevent myself from sprawling on the ground as the world flickered around me.

Rolling over and sitting up, I took in my surroundings. Water sprayed down from overhead sprinklers. Dennis lay nearby, apparently unconscious. Sophia was just putting her phone away, peering out into the ruins of what I had to squint to recognise as the Medhall lobby. Instinctively, I took control of all the bugs in the vicinity and started figuring out what had happened.

I couldn’t have been frozen for more than ten minutes; that was the outside limit of Dennis’ power. But in that time, Squealer’s tank had done a real number on the Medhall building. From what my bugs were telling me, a lot of the building was badly damaged, and there was vibration within the load-bearing beams that I didn’t like in the slightest.

Farther afield, I still had bugs on the tank. Immediately, I began to converge swarms on it. All I needed was one entrance, one opening, and I could end this attack with ease. She’d never see it coming.

It was only when I heard a distant popping and crackling, and felt my swarms starting to die off at a startling rate, that I realised she actually would see it coming. And in fact, she had included point defence. On a tank. Against bugs.

I dispersed the swarms and the lasers cut out again. Not only did I need to conserve bugs, but I didn’t want a laser shot to come through the swarm and hit someone else. Okay, I need a plan B.

That was when my bugs noticed the other three. Stealth was difficult when one was a sixty foot tall armoured woman; in my defence, I had been focusing on the tank. Fenja’s two companions, I quickly gathered, were Alabaster and Cricket. As villains, and as the aggressors in the recent cape conflict, it wouldn’t have surprised me if they were trying to find a way to capitalise on the situation, such as busting into the Medhall building and robbing it. But instead, it seemed they wanted to actually locate and kill the tank.

The trouble with this plan was that it would invariably expose them to the tank’s horribly accurate fire. My bugs had already located and identified the laser-burned bodies at the entrance to the foyer; I had no reason to believe that the tank would treat them any differently. In fact, I suspected they would get an extra helping, being capes.

From my reading of Empire capabilities, Fenja might be able to shrug off the lasers, Alabaster would probably survive by coming back over and over … but Cricket? Not a hope in hell. Worse, they didn’t know where it was. Even if they knew that, they’d have to get all the way up to it without being seen and shot.

“Oh, hey,” Sophia said. “You’re up. Good.” She came over and helped me to my feet.

Briefly, I hugged her. It was good to see that she’d survived the cataclysm that had scoured the lobby. Even the security guards behind the now-demolished desk hadn’t made it. “Situation?”

Outside, I pulled together my depleted swarms and formed a barrier in front of Cricket. ‘Not safe,’ I had the insects buzz. ‘Invisible tank. Lasers.’

She swiped her hand through the swarm, then did something with high-pitched sound that disoriented them and completed the dispersal of the grouping. “Buzz is in the area!” I heard her call out. “Probably Shadow Bitch, too!”

“Once we deal with this shit, we’ll take them out too,” Alabaster replied. “I’m done playing nice.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I was trying to save their lives. As a last-minute effort, I laid down several large arrows on the ground, pointing at where the tank was.

In the meantime, Sophia had been filling me in on what had happened while I was in time-out. “… said he was on the way,” she concluded. “Wasn’t able to call the PRT, radios are jammed, but the building isn’t that far away and surely to fuck they’ll have heard the explosions or seen the smoke cloud.”

“You can literally see the Medhall building from Director Piggot’s office,” I reminded her. “I’m almost certain she knows by now.”

<><>​

PRT Building, Brockton Bay

Director Piggot’s Office

“Yes, I actually do know where the explosions are coming from,” Emily snarled, standing with her phone in one hand and the other up against the high-end polycarbonate that made up her office window. “The Medhall building. How do I know? I can see it. There is a hole right through it. It’s on fire. And I’m almost certain that part of it has melted. Prep a full assault force; orders are to take down any hostile capes onsite, any means necessary. Go.”

With a subvocalised growl, she stabbed the end of call icon, then pulled up another number. This one rang exactly once. “Console, Corporal Wyzinski speaking.”

“Wyzinski, this is Director Piggot.” Emily spoke clearly and crisply, the better to get her message across. “I need to know the exact location of our Wards contingent. You need to pull them back in immediately.”

The corporal’s words sent a chill down her back. “We’re trying to re-establish comms with them, ma’am. They were speaking with Kid Win about potentially evacuating the Medhall building when we lost contact.”

“So as far as you know,” Emily said carefully, “they’re at the Medhall building right now.”

“That’s our best guess, yes, ma’am.”

“Alright. Keep trying. If you re-establish comms, get an immediate sitrep, and order them from me to keep their heads the hell down.”

Wyzinski sounded mildly confused, but he didn’t argue. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

Trying hard not to swear—it would waste time and achieve nothing—Emily cut the call and dialled yet another number.

It was answered before the first ring had finished. “You’ve got Armsmaster.” He was breathing a little hard; she suspected he was hustling somewhere. Probably to where the assault force was being assembled.

“The best intel I have says that our Wards are in the middle of the mess at Medhall,” she told him crisply. “Your top priority is to extract them. If you have to get by whatever villains are on site to do so, you are authorised to use lethal force by my order. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Director,” he acknowledged. “Extraction of Wards is my top priority. Lethal force authorised for this situation. Message received and understood.”

She took a deep breath. “Good hunting. Piggot, out.”

Shutting down the call, she stood at the window, staring out at the rising plume of smoke. She was sick and tired of villains running rough-shod over her city. It was time they learned about consequences.

She’d burn every political marker she’d accumulated during her tenure if she had to, but whoever had attacked Medhall (with her Wards in the building!) was going to the Birdcage.

<><>​

Taylor

“Goddamn it, she’s ignoring me,” I growled. “And they’re acting like this is all our fault or something.” I spared a glance for Dennis. “How’s he going?”

“Pulse is strong, but he’s still out to it.” Sophia reported. “And are you surprised? Villains will fuckin’ villain, all day long.” She stood up and gestured at a bunch of people who were crowding into our area. “Front way’s a no-go zone. Back way out, go!”

“The exit’s blocked,” reported a guy in a suit. “I think debris fell down or something. We can’t get it open.” His tone clearly asked, What are you going to do about it?

I left the argument to her, as I was concentrating on what was going on outside. A few bugs went and checked on the rear emergency exit and found that yes, a large chunk of outside wall had fallen down and entirely blocked the doorway. Out front, it looked like Alabaster was making a move.

<><>​

Squealer

“Fuck me, it’s Alabaster!” Sherrel turned the camera, trying to scan the area. “Where did he come from?”

“Damned if I know,” Bakuda said, then smirked as a trio of the automated point-defence lasers hit the Empire cape in the chest, dropping him like a rock. “Nice one.”

Just under five seconds later, he was up again, coming in at a dead run. They watched him pull two pistols, just before one laser took his left leg off at the knee and another one neatly excised his right arm at the shoulder. “Ooh,” Sherrel giggled with a fake grimace. “That’s gotta sting.”

Again, he was whole in just seconds, and kept coming. Only to go down, lie there for a few seconds, then get up again as whole and hearty as before. He was now halfway to the tank, and showing no signs of quitting.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bakuda sighed. Reaching up, she loaded one of the small launchers with a grenade-sized bomb. She waited until he was up again, then sent the projectile on its way. With a soundless flash, it did its job. “Walk that one off, asshole.”

<><>​

Fenja

“Fuck,” said Jessica, trying not to freak out at the sight. She’d just been about to move, but now she pulled back into cover. “Alabaster’s dead.”

“Bullshit.” Crouching back from the roofline, Melody shook her head. “Alabaster doesn’t stay dead.”

Jessica wanted to put her hand to her mouth, but her full-face helmet was in the way. “I think he is, this time. He just turned to liquid. Like, puree’d. I’m looking at a puddle. He’s dead. They just killed him.”

That was a profoundly unsettling realisation to have. There were certain constants when it came to being in the Empire. Hookwolf was the toughest bastard in the gang, with Stormtiger and Cricket leading a close second and third. Alabaster was the one that nobody could kill. Nobody fucked with the Empire.

And now Hookwolf had been tossed out of the city, the Empire was being well and truly fucked with, and it looked like the unkillable Alabaster was eminently killable after all. The process of change had been very fast; one moment he’d been running and the next his limbs and body had broken down, become a large puddle of uncertain fluids. Whatever else the man was, he was dead.

And so, she coldly decided, were the assholes who had just murdered him. They might still be walking and breathing, but that was only a detail.

“Okay, just going to check—”

Jessica had seen the accuracy and firing speed of the lasers as they chopped Alabaster down, over and over again. She opened her mouth to object, but it was too late. There was a weird sensation behind her eyes as Cricket ramped up her subsonics in order to disorient anyone nearby, then leaned over the roof edge.

Three lasers hit Cricket at once, and she toppled over slowly, steam rising from where the top of her head had been just a second ago. Jessica watched with horror as she vanished from sight, the horrific wound leaving no room for the chance of survival. There was a distinct thud, a moment later.

“Melody, no,” she whispered. “No. No, no, no.”

Tears leaked from her eyes as she squeezed the lids shut, trying to blot out the image. Alabaster had been a teammate, but he’d also been an arrogant asshole. Despite the fact that they came from entirely different backgrounds, Melody Jurist had been a friend.

Okay, now it’s just me. Do I keep pushing, or do I back off?

Common sense said to back off; whoever was doing this had killed two of her teammates in less than a minute. But her loyalty to the Empire Eighty-Eight said something entirely different. Cricket and Alabaster needed avenging.

When it came down to it, there was only one real course of action to take. Pushing her power so she grew even larger, she stood up.

You just fucked with the Empire Eighty-Eight. Time to pay the piper.

<><>​

Grue

Brian was halfway to the Medhall building when he realised he had no costume in the car. The last thing he wanted to do was show his face and endanger his friends and family to anyone who might decide to take matters into their own hands, unwritten rules be damned.

But Sophia needs backup now. I can’t go back home to grab it. By the time I get there and back, she’ll probably be dead. He paused. Wait. Unless Alec left that stupid balaclava in the car again ...

Slowing the car somewhat, he leaned across and popped the glove compartment. Rummaging blindly with his eyes on the road, he shoved aside what felt like Lisa’s spare pistol and batteries for Alec’s sceptre. Finally, his hand fell on a bundle of cloth and he pulled it out. Sparing a quick glance as he shook it out, he nodded. Not perfect, but it’ll do. I just hope he washed it recently.

He dropped the balaclava on the passenger seat and concentrated on driving. Hang on, Sophia. I’m on the way.

<><>​

Taylor

“No!” I shouted uselessly as Fenja lunged around the corner and charged toward the tank; or rather, toward where my bug-arrows pointed. “Don’t!”

Helplessly, I watched as the tank opened fire. Laser shots sparked off her armour and shield, reflecting back as multicoloured glints but never so much as warming the metal. I expected to see it burn through at any second, but she got closer and closer with every gargantuan stride, surrounded by an ever-intensifying halo of blinding radiance.

Shit, I thought. She’s actually going to make it. It felt weird to be cheering on the supervillain who had nearly killed Glory Girl, but there we were.

And then the big launcher swivelled toward her. It coughed once, and she screamed as her right leg (complete with armour) turned entirely to glass.

Right then I had a second epiphany, even more unwelcome than the first. “Fuck,” I said. “Bakuda’s back.” What had happened to Alabaster had made me wonder, but this put the icing on the cake.

Sophia didn’t question my words. “Well, fuck.”

If Fenja had been standing still, the situation may have been almost salvageable. But she wasn’t. Her now-glass leg came down with shattering force, in every sense of the word. If the scream when her leg turned to glass was loud, her shriek when it disintegrated into a million glittering shards was deafening. She went down to her one remaining knee, supported by her free hand and shield arm, head hanging down.

Still, she wasn’t done yet. Leaning her weight on her arms, she drew her leg up under her, clearly planning to try to get upright. But that was when the large launcher twitched slightly, adjusting its aim. I knew what was going to happen next. Fenja was going to die, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. While I had some bugs on the tank, there were nowhere near enough to jam either the launchers or the laser emplacements. I didn’t want to see what happened next, even via my bugs, but I made myself watch anyway.

<><>​

Grue

Even without Sophia’s warning, Brian would’ve pulled up before getting too close to the Medhall building. There were crashed cars and dead people sprawled on the sidewalk and roadway, all showing signs of coming under attack from sustained laser fire. So he pulled the balaclava on over his head, wrinkling his nose as he concluded that no, Alec hadn’t laundered it any time recently, then got out of the car and moved up. Holding his hands in front of himself, he generated his darkness in a cloud that he walked through, hiding him from view inside the impenetrable fog.

He got to the corner just in time to see something happen to Fenja. She’d been crouching on one leg—where the other one was, he wasn’t sure, though there were large shards of glass everywhere which gave him a distinct clue—and supporting herself on her hands, when an explosion went off around her head and chest.

Well, kind of an explosion. There was no earth-shattering kaboom (to quote Marvin the Martian), no cloud of smoke or fire. But when the light stopped distorting itself into a Klein bottle and returned to normal, Fenja had been … inverted. As far as Brian could see, everything in her upper body that was supposed to be on the inside was now on the outside, and vice versa. One thing was for certain; she was dead. Nothing could survive that.

At least, he hoped not.

Also, he knew something else he hadn’t before.

Bakuda was back.

“Fuck.”

He promised himself that he’d throw up later. Right now, he was here to back Sophia up.

Here goes nothing.

<><>​

Taylor

“What happened?” asked Sophia. “Did Fenja get them?”

I shook my head, glad beyond description that bug senses were crap. I knew that something had happened to the Empire cape, and it had probably been fatal, but not precisely what. That was the bad news.

The really bad news was that the tank was still there, and it seemed to be prepping to fire into the Medhall building again. The sprinklers had stopped, but from the creaking and groaning and occasional falls of bits and pieces of ceiling, it wouldn’t take much to bring the whole thing down. In fact, I was personally convinced that it was going to come down all by itself, even if left totally alone from this point onward. It was just a matter of time.

Given that I was in the building, this did not fill me with an overwhelming sense of security.

“Ow. Anyone get the number of that truck?”

“Clockblocker! Shit, how you doing?” Sophia went from crouching next to me to doing a baseball slide, spraying up water, that ended her up next to our now-conscious teammate.

I glanced over my shoulder, then went back to surveying the entrance. If a lot of smoke happened all at once, we’d be able to guide the trapped employees out, but right now Squealer and Bakuda (and wasn’t that a partnership made in hell) held all the aces. In fact, in light of my previous supposition regarding the building’s fragility, all they had to do was sit there and bottle us up. The building would kill us all by itself.

“Ow. I’ve been better. Did the roof fall in on me? Feels like it did.”

“Something like that. So, this is the situation.” Sophia began to list off all the bad news we had. This was appropriate, because there was no good news.

Or maybe there was.

My bugs noticed the cloud of pure blackness that had just come around the corner, and was now spreading toward where the tank was. I raised my bug-arrows into the air and moved them back and forth to make sure he got the message. Grue (because who else could it be?) was clearly on the ball, because the cloud rolled over the tank in short order, finally nullifying those goddamn lasers.

“Shadow Stalker!” I yelled. “We’ve got cover from the lasers! Get everyone moving! We’re getting out of here!”

She didn’t need telling twice. Neither did anyone else. While she and the still-groggy Clockblocker started the employees toward the open front of the building, I ventured out first. My swarm came together in a screen that would hopefully act as a decoy in case Grue’s cloud didn’t cover as much as I thought it would.

Fortunately, it wasn’t needed. Grue stood in the middle of the street, shrouded in darkness, more of it pouring off him and piling up in a formless mass over where the tank still sat. He glanced over his shoulder once, and I gave him a thumb’s up. He nodded in acknowledgement, then he went back to keeping the lasers locked down.

I didn’t care that he was Sophia’s boyfriend right then. When I got the chance, I was gonna give him the biggest kiss.

Behind me, I could hear people crowding out and herding down the street as fast as they could hustle. I stretched out a line of bugs guiding them around the nearest corner so they’d be out of line-of-sight of the lasers if the tank happened to start up and rumble out of the cloud. It hadn’t yet, but I had no idea what Squealer and Bakuda were thinking right then.

<><>​

Squealer

“Motherfucker!” shouted Bakuda. “I can’t see a fuckin’ thing in this! There’s nothing on any of the sensors! Drive us out of it!”

“Fuck that!” retorted Sherrel. “Driving blind’s the fastest way to wreck your vehicle on something you can’t see. What if they’ve put mines or something around us and they’re just waiting for us to run over them?”

“Well, do something!” insisted Bakuda.

Sherrel took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. It had been awhile since she’d had a good hit of anything, but Bakuda had been insistent that she not be high while she was building or driving any vehicle that Bakuda was going to be in at the time. “Okay, okay,” she said, trying to kick her brain into gear. “Darkness that thick, that not even radar gets through? That’s not normal. It’s not Tinkertech, either.”

“Well, no shit!” shouted Bakuda. “That’s fuckin’ Grue! The Undersiders are here! How tough’s your armour? What happens when a couple of those big fuck-off monster dogs start tearing this thing apart around us?”

“No, no, you’re right.” Sherrel hustled forward to the control panel alongside the controls. “I built something in for those cocksuckers. Here it is.” She flipped up a cover and pressed both of the buttons that had been hidden under it, one after the other. “Pop-up holograms showing a rotating series of puzzles to force Tattletale into a Thinker headache. High-pitched whistles to distract Bitch’s dogs. Regent can’t do shit, and I couldn’t figure a countermeasure against darkness.”

“Well, I can.” Bakuda led the way back to the launchers. She took up four of the smaller bombs and loaded them into a launcher, then fired them in a wide arc to cover as much ground as possible. “Black hole bombs. They’ll suck him in, then take his darkness away as well. Goodbye motherfucker.”

“Fuck yes!” Sherrel offered her a high-five, which she returned. “Why the hell didn’t we ever team up like this before?”

Bakuda snorted. “Because you were a drug-fucked Merchant bitch, and I was working for Lung?”

Sherrel tilted her head. “Yeah, fair point. How long ’til those bombs kill him?”

Smirking confidently, Bakuda studied her nails. “Oh, any minute now.”

<><>​

Shadow Stalker

The last of the civvies had stumbled out of the building and were heading for the corner. Clock was herding them along, making sure they got out of sight okay. He hadn’t even questioned the fact that an Undersider was making sure nobody else got fried by lasers, which Sophia appreciated. There would probably be awkward questions later, but right now all she wanted was for people to get the fuck out from under what was very shortly going to be a pile of rubble.

“Shit!” That was Taylor; Sophia whipped her head around to see four round black objects fly out of the cloud in a fan pattern. None of them came particularly close to Brian, but when they hit the ground, they each erupted in a swirling vortex that began to suck his darkness into it. Worse, the closest one to him actually seemed to have pulled him off his feet. Lying on the ground, he was trying to scramble away from it, with minimal success.

“Motherfucker!” Sophia didn’t care that anyone heard her swear. She’d just got Brian back. There was no way she was losing him again.

Pulling her right-hand crossbow and wishing that she’d invested in a grapnel arrow for it—Kid Win had once offered to make her one, and she’d turned him down—she went to shadow and leaped across the intervening distance, faster than any merely material person could’ve made it. The closest vortex tried to draw her into it, but in doing so it pulled her directly toward Brian, as she’d planned.

Just as she came level with him, she pushed the immaterial crossbow downward and went back to solid form, but with the crossbow half-buried in the asphalt. With that for a handhold, she grabbed his wrist in her other hand and hung on for dear life. Though surprised by the save, he didn’t waste time querying it. His large strong hand closed around her forearm, an experience that was both familiar and strange to her. While they’d certainly had physical contact before, holding hands hadn’t been a thing for them before now. She decided then and there that it would be, going forward.

All of a sudden, the shrieking vortices cut out and the sensation of being dragged sideways down the street ceased. Sophia let go of both her crossbow and his hand and sat up; he did the same. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Not a problem.” The reply was almost automatic. He got to his feet and helped her up; their fingers didn’t seem to want to let go of each other. Stretching out his hand sideways, he resumed covering the tank with his black fog.

They spoke at the same time. “I’m sorry.”

Wait, what? She stared at him. “Okay, what are you sorry about?”

He shrugged. “Any time a girl’s pissed at me, I assume I did something, so I apologise first and then find out what it was later.”

Sophia considered that. It was good philosophy, from her point of view. “Oh. Well, then, apology accepted.”

“So is yours,” he allowed. “Now, what are we going to do about this?”

“I owe those bitches a beatdown.” She cricked her neck. “Make me a hole?”

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

A moment later, she saw a gap open up in the coverage of the tank, low down. Taking a run-up, she went to shadow and slid in through the aperture Brian had left for her. A second later, she could suddenly see the damn tank, as her immaterial form went through the caterpillar tracks that held it off the ground. And then she was under the tank.

The engine started. There was a lot of vibration involved. Sophia didn’t care. She launched herself up and into the tank proper.

<><>​

Squealer

“Are we still blacked out?” Bakuda leaned past her to tap at one of the monitor screens, like it was a faulty gauge. “He couldn’t have survived that. Could he?”

Sherrel was getting more and more nervous. “I don’t know what’s happening out there, but I don’t like it. I think we should just get the fuck out of Dodge.”

“I thought you didn’t want to drive blind?” jeered Bakuda.

“I don’t,” Sherrel agreed. “But I still think we should.”

“Well, let’s do it then.” Bakuda went back into where the launchers were. “We’ll carpet the area on the way out. Give them something to worry about other than chasing us.”

Sherrel grinned. “I like the way you think.” Sitting down in the driver’s seat, she worked her shoulders and cracked her knuckles, then pressed the button that kicked the engine over.

A moment later, she heard a startled yell from behind her.

<><>​

Shadow Stalker

“What the ever-loving fuck?”

Surprise was a not unusual reaction, Sophia had found, when she came up through the floor almost directly under someone’s feet. However, she was now in an enclosed space with two women who almost certainly wanted to kill her; had in fact done their best to do that not so very long ago. Bakuda had even tried to do it twice.

Of course, this also meant that they were locked into an enclosed space with her. Taylor had once discussed the concept of ‘target rich environment’ with her, and she’d agreed with it. The trick was to go on the attack and not give them a chance to retaliate.

Which was why she brought her fist up almost from floor level, and drove it into Bakuda’s solar plexus. At least, she figured it was Bakuda. The gasmask was missing, as was most of the circuitry that had been woven into the Tinker’s hair. But the woman’s attitude and stance was all Bakuda. Also, she was inside the tank, so she was fair game.

Bakuda huffed out a pained gasp and bent double, allowing Sophia to come to her feet and bring her knee solidly up into the villain’s nose. Grabbing Bakuda by the hair, she did it a second and third time. That seemed to do the job; Bakuda slumped to the floor with a groan.

Instinct warned her just in time, and she turned and ducked as a heavy wrench whistled past her head and clanged off a bulkhead. Squealer’s face was contorted with rage as she readied for a backswing. In these confined quarters, it would be hard to avoid.

There were mechanisms with handles on either side; Sophia grabbed one in each hand, lifted her feet, and delivered a powerful double kick to Squealer’s not inconsiderable chest region. Slammed backward with a totally on-brand squeal, Squealer did her best to maintain her balance. Sophia wasn’t about to let that happen; she pulled a backflip, landed on her feet, then shoulder-charged the villain into the tank controls behind her.

With a rumble, the tank started forward, swerving erratically from side to side. Sophia didn’t care as she grabbed Squealer’s shoulders (there wasn’t enough of her top to grab) and delivered a crisp head-butt with her mask taking the brunt of the impact. As the villain stumbled back against the controls yet again, causing the tank to swerve once more, Sophia unleashed a one-two punch into her stomach region, then elbowed her viciously in the jaw.

Squealer subsided, groaning feebly. Sophia glanced at the outside monitor that showed where the tank was going, then looked over her shoulder at where Bakuda was just beginning to pull herself to her feet once more. “Hey, bitch-features,” she said, and jammed the throttle wide open. “See you in Hell.”

Then she turned to shadow and jumped out through the side of the tank.

<><>​

Grue

Taylor joined Brian as Sophia disappeared under the tank.

“Think she’ll be okay?” he asked, worried. “If they’re both in there, it’ll be two against one.”

“She works best in a target-rich environment,” she assured him. “Besides, Squealer does tanks and Bakuda does bombs. What are they going to do, blow themselves up just to get her?”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s moving,” she said, and pointed. “That way.”

“Okay,” he said cautiously. “Do we do anything about that?”

“Just try to keep it covered in case the lasers start firing again.”

“Got it.” He blinked as the cloaking field suddenly vanished. “Okay, not sure what just happened, but now I can see it.”

It swerved and jinked from side to side, clearly not under deliberate control. When it finally straightened out, the engine gave a roar … as it headed for the stricken Medhall building. At the last moment, just before it started up the steps toward the main lobby, a dark figure passed out through the side of the Tinkertech vehicle.

Rumbling forward at full throttle, the tank entered the lobby and vanished into the interior of the building. Taylor and Brian glanced at each other, then at Sophia, who was sprinting toward them.

“Run?” suggested Brian.

“Run,” Taylor affirmed.

“RUN!” yelled Sophia.

They ran.

<><>​

Taylor

Sophia was the fastest out of the three of us, but I’d been practicing as well. Adrenaline loaned me a little speed, and Brian wasn’t far behind me either. We sprinted down the street away from the stricken Medhall building, trying to get as far away as possible before the tank broke something structural.

It didn’t take long.

We slowed down at the intersection and turned to look back. Gradually, as though tired, the building was beginning to slump downward at one corner. The slump increased dramatically and all of a sudden, part of the building was falling in on itself with a long, low rumble. We watched, fascinated, as level after level collapsed until everything hit street level and a cloud of dust billowed down the street toward us.

Stepping around the corner, I pulled Sophia and Brian with me; we put our backs to the wall and watched the dust billow past us. Slowly, it subsided and we peered back around.

“So, is that it?” asked Brian.

As if to answer his question, there was a sudden KRAKBOOM from the direction of the destroyed building. A flash of light hid everything for a moment; when it faded away, we saw a glass-lined crater where a good chunk of the rubble had been. Of the tank, there was no sign.

Sophia sighed. “I think that’s it. Thanks for turning up.”

“How could I not?” He gathered her in his arms and held her tight. She was embracing him pretty hard as well.

Clockblocker wandered over and stood next to me. “Do I want to know?”

Slowly, I shook my head. “Probably not.”

“Okay. However, not to be That Guy, but maybe non-Protectorate affiliates might need to leave the scene. I just got word. PRT is on the way.”

“Shit, yeah,” I said. I knew this for a fact, having picked them up three blocks away.

“Oh. Right. Good idea.” Brian disengaged from Sophia. “See you later, you big softy.”

“I’ll show you ‘big softy’,” she snapped back, but I could tell she was smiling under the mask.

He turned away from us and got into a nondescript car before pulling off the balaclava. Starting the car, he drove away sedately, just as the first PRT vehicles showed up, Armsmaster in the lead.

“Oh, hey,” I said as the armoured hero climbed off his bike. “You missed all the fun.”

In another moment, Brian’s car turned the corner and was gone.



End of Part Nine

 

Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Epilogues

[A/N: These epilogues beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Epilogue One: After Action

Director Piggot’s Office

“I’m going to be absolutely honest with the three of you.” Emily sat and looked over her desk at the three Wards facing her. Each showed signs of the events of the last few hours; their costumes were damaged here and there, and the way they held themselves indicated a few aches and pains.

Clockblocker nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I know we screwed up, but I’m team lead. It was my fault.”

Emily raised her eyebrows. “Might I suggest you wait until you’ve heard what I had to say?” Mentally, though, she awarded him marks for responsibility.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”

She nodded to acknowledge his words. “Shadow Stalker, you were a problem child even before the event with Buzz.” She didn’t have to elaborate which event that was. “But you weren’t quite enough of a problem, or more accurately we didn’t know the extent of your problematic behaviour, so you got to skate on that one. Afterward … well, Buzz was the only reason you got any kind of a pass from me after that. Clockblocker, you were a problem of a different kind. Starting with your name, then going on with your attitude. You were a goof-off and a discipline problem. Buzz, you wanted to be a hero, but after your initial fight with Lung, I thought you were going to be far too tentative to make it.” She slapped her hands on the desk. “But you all managed to surprise me.”

The Wards before her didn’t quite dare to comment on her statement. Their masks hid their faces, but she could still read the wtf did she just say? in their body language.

“Clockblocker, you’ve shaped up as a leader.” Her tone was crisp, professional. “Buzz, you’ve shown you can take the initiative and make hard choices. Shadow Stalker, you’ve gone a very very long way toward redeeming yourself. You and Buzz are the most effective hero partnership in the city, aside from perhaps Assault and Battery. The three of you also work well together. Today, you showed that in spades.”

Again, silence fell, broken only by Clockblocker’s hesitant voice. “Uh, Director …?”

Emily didn’t smile very much, except under special situations. This was such a situation. “Today, you saw a situation coming, reacted to it, and saved many lives. You made the Wards, and thus the PRT, look good. I am very proud of you.”

This time, Clockblocker knew what to say. “Thank you, ma’am.” One at a time, Buzz and Shadow Stalker echoed his sentiment.

“You’re welcome.” Emily waved vaguely at the door. “You can go now. I’ve still got your mess to clear up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Clockblocker led the way to the door. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Now for the sting in the tail. “Oh, and Shadow Stalker?”

The black girl froze halfway out the door. “Uh, yes, uh, ma’am?”

“If Grue ever shows an interest in joining the Wards, I would not be opposed to the idea.” Emily dropped her eyes to the paperwork on her desk. “Close the door on your way out.”

As the door clicked shut, she allowed herself a shark-like grin. That should keep them on their toes.

End of Epilogue One

<><>​

Epilogue Two: Freedom

Coil’s Base

Mr Pitter stood next to Dinah on the walkway overlooking the assembled mercenaries.

“Tell them what you told me,” he said.

Dinah cleared her throat. “Coil is gone,” she said. “He won’t be coming back here, ever. Also, anyone who’s still here in exactly one week … dies.”

As the mercenaries dispersed, Trickster came over to where they were standing. “You’re serious about this.”

“As serious as I can be,” Dinah replied.

“Fuck.” Trickster shook his head. “This is going to piss everyone off.”

Mr Pitter shrugged helplessly. “I can’t solve everyone’s problems. I can barely solve my own.”

As Trickster moved off, Mr Pitter looked at Dinah. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She nodded seriously. It was time to go home.

End of Epilogue Two

<><>​

Epilogue Three: Awakening

Brockton Bay General Hospital

Panacea

… beep … beep … beep … beep …

Amy didn’t register the fact that she had a visitor. Two days now, and Vicky still wasn’t responding. Her body was still healthy and her brain active, but she just wasn’t waking up.

“Hey, Amy. Came as soon as we could.”

A chair was pulled up alongside her, and someone sat down. When an arm went around her shoulders and pulled her close in a hug, she looked around in surprise. “What—?”

“Wow, you really were out to it.” Buzz, with her scary bug mask replaced by a domino, grinned at her. Behind her, Shadow Stalker stood discreetly in the background, similarly remasked. “How long have you been here?”

“Since she got hurt.” The words were jerked out of her. “I’m gonna stay here ’til she wakes up.”

“Oh. Right.” Buzz looked a little lost for what to do.

Not so Shadow Stalker. Rounding the bed, the dark-clad Ward grabbed Vicky’s shoulder and shook her vigorously. “Hey! Dumbass! Fenja bit the big one, so you can stop hiding in bed now! Wakey wakey!”

… beep … beepbeep … beepbeep …

Amy stared at Shadow Stalker then at the readout on the screen. “What did you do?”

“Took the initiative, duh.” Shadow Stalker gestured at the now-stirring Vicky. “You’re welcome.”

Slowly, Vicky’s eyes inched open. “Wha …?” she murmured. “Oh, hey, Ames. How long’s it been?”

But Amy couldn’t answer, as she was hugging her sister and crying too hard.

End of Epilogue Three

<><>​

Epilogue Four: Curiosity and the Cat

Five Days Later

Outside Coil’s Base

“Check it out,” boasted Bradley. He led the way through the chain link gate and over to where a hatch was lying unlocked and open. “I found this when I was looking around for a hideout the other night.”

Max looked askance at the sewer entrance, then sniffed fastidiously. “You have got to be kidding. I don’t care if they are searching for us in every nook and cranny. We can locate a better place elsewhere.”

“No, that’s just for show. Wait’ll you see what’s down here.” Bradley led the way down the steps, then along to where a barred gate had been just left swinging open. The smell was beginning to recede, which made Max look happier.

When they stepped through the final door into the massive underground base, Max’s jaw honestly dropped. “Well, that’s different,” he finally managed.

“Oh, hell yes,” agreed Brad. He pointed at a door along the top balcony. “That’s someone’s private office. Mine now. But there’s a computer there, and you know I don’t do those things.”

Victor, his arm still in a sling, nodded. “I’ll go have a look. Might be able to find out what happened here.”

“You do that.” Kaiser gestured to Menja, currently getting by with a crutch for assistance. “Go with him. See what you can find from any files. I want to know why this place was abandoned. James and I will see what else there is to be seen around here.”

“Yes, sir.” Menja hobbled after Victor, who courteously slowed his pace for her.

When they reached the appropriate door, Victor went in first, then gestured her in after he’d cleared the room. He seated himself at the high-end computer and pressed the button to turn it on.

While it was booting up, Menja looked around for any paper files, but came up blank. “Looks like whoever this is does everything electronically,” she observed.

“It’s a choice,” he agreed. The computer beeped as a password prompt appeared on the screen. “Hmm … okay, let’s see what happens when I do this.” Instead of trying to guess at the passcode, he clicked on where it said, “Forgot your PIN?”

A small square of the screen in the upper right changed colour very slightly. Victor didn’t notice.

The computer popped up a screen where he was led through various options for retrieving his PIN.

He was halfway through when the base self-destruct went off.

There were no survivors.

End of Epilogue Four

End of Confrontation II: The Reckoning

Thanks for reading!