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I glared, struggling to keep the buzzing in my head from becoming very, very real. Three months I’ve been doing it, but the dam couldn’t give, not against them. And certainly not for shit this stupid.
Cold orange soda dripped down my nose, quietly splashing in the mixed drinks pooling around my knees. The Trio just watched on from the stall’s doorway. Laughing. As if I was some fucking circus monkey they could poke and prod freely.
I probably was, to them. Maybe not even just to them.
I swallowed the acidic, bitter truth of that thought; even now I was still called Locker Girl by the rest.
My shoes squeaked against the grimy, and now sticky, tile of Winslow’s washrooms as I stood. Their laughter finally petered out, but Madison had to be elbowed to get the memo, and the following look on Emma’s face kept her quiet. Oh, wow, she looked almost a tenth as angry as I felt, like someone spat on one of those obscenely priced shoes of hers and told her to thank them for it.
Fucking good, some spiteful, ugly part of me whispered.
I tried to ignore it, smothering the biting smile before my lips could even twitch; I was better than them, had to be, and I knew they fed on reactions aside. Like pests, they had to be starved out.
I turned the other cheek and made to grab my backpack, reaching for distraction in the same beat as that dam creaked ominously, my swarm itching to be used; my bag was ruined, soaked and discoloured from their stupid bullshit—
I took a quiet breath, and slowly picked up the write-off, thinking of anything but the damp, cold cloth now pressing into my palm.
…Like why I wasn’t lashing out.
I’d been antsy over it, recently, and it wasn’t helping my inherited temper. Inaction never did. Just a little longer, Taylor. Soon. But soon was never soon enough — there was still so much prep, so much to learn, experimentation to be done. I refused to be another dead hero butchered and spat out by my city, to be another depressing straw on the camel’s back and not the relief it dearly needed.
I reached for my mantra, but found the words lacking. I’m going to be a hero, and there’s nothing they can do to stop me. I’m going to be a hero, and ther—
I heard it before I felt it. Sneakers worth more than my entire outfit squeaked against slick tile, stepping closer. I turned, barely caught sight of her.
By then, it was too late.
Emma’s hand tangled in my hair and yanked.
She pulled us tight in that stall as a throttled hiss escaped my lips. My bony back pressed into her chest as she pulled me lower, eye to eye. Some distant part of me noted this was the closest to a hug we’ve had in years, but the rest?
The rest of me was holding the now boiling waters of the dam back, even as her breath hissed in my ear, “You think you get to fucking ignore me?” she asked, as if she still had right to answers she’d long since butchered, “You pathetic, ugly, worthless little bitch?”
I bit my tongue, but couldn’t stop my eyes from trying to drill into hers — Emma didn’t have the fucking right to breath on me, after all she’d done, let alone touch my hair. Nails dug into my palms. I tried not to think about how easy it’d be to break her, the too-fitting karma of using the power she’d carved into me to do it.
A sharp pain leapt through my neck, my head twisting back. Noses nearly brushed as she used her grip to bend me, like I was some unruly horse she could lead. An object for her to toy with.
Was that really all she thought of me?
I tasted copper, but the pain didn’t help. It couldn’t, not with the urge to wipe that fucking sneer off her face rising in the combined voice of hundreds of thousands. To tear it from flesh and bone.
To just stop holding back.
The dam reached a tipping point, it’s foundations cracking as my gathering swarm writhed, and I had a decision to make.
But, I’d made it three months ago, sitting alone in a sterile bed and realising that, somehow, I could help.
‘Stop’ I bitterly ordered, and my word, however unspoken, was law. I threw myself into keeping my power locked tight, corralling the swarm, anything to keep my one escape mine and mine alone, to not ruin everything I’ve worked for and the one consultation prize I’ve gotten from my dumpster of a life, no matter how shitty.
But my body felt loose now, ephemeral. I’d over-corrected, stretched myself too far. And that was all my temper needed.
I had been quiet, throughout the mess she’d made of my life, just taking it. Even the few times she got to me early on and I muttered something scathing to her, it had never been to hurt her. I just couldn’t stand the idea of ‘Ems’ turning into ‘Emma’, and vainly, I had fought it.
But, I wanted to be a hero, didn’t I? And sometimes that meant keeping people in line. Reminding them that their shitty, selfish actions had consequences.
No matter the costs to yourself.
“Does this make you feel strong, Emma? Safe?” I hissed out, and almost didn’t recognize my voice. There was no heat. There almost wasn’t anything at all. It was as if I’d been hollowed out and only the cold fury of a corpse remained, watching its killer, lifeless eyes staring from beyond as its cold lips moved. “I’ve always wondered what goes on in that mess you call a head. Do you ever think about what would happen if you tried this shit with someone without morals? Some E88 ganger having a women mouth off to him? A merchant too high to think about the consequences, especially with a figure like yours in front of them?”
I hesitated, but — no. No, maybe, just maybe this would be enough. I knew I couldn’t ever get my Ems back, but… there was a chance I could stop the thing she’s become.
It didn’t take a genius to notice how uneasy the ABB wannabes made her. How their looks made her skin crawl instead of preen. How she lashed out like a cornered rat whenever they got bold.
There was a history there, and the idea of playing fair was shot dead a long, long time ago.
I licked my lips and said “Or, some ABB fucker thinking they can make a quick buck out of pawning you off, and then you finally realise nothing you’ve done ever mattered, because at the end of the day, in some dark little alley, you were just some weak, vain traitor with no-one to defend yo—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Emma screamed, loud enough to hurt, but nowhere near as much as the fist to my temple.
I dropped like a sack, the world spinning around me like the world’s worst merry-go-round. Something followed, a beautiful face twisted into ugly fury and grey-metal walls swarming after us. I felt like I was going to hurl; I’d been hit before, but never like this, and never in the head.
There was noise, ringing, shouting? Then something pushing into my back. It was heavy. It was loud, angry? There was so much ringing.
Focus, Taylor, focus. What’s going on?
I didn’t know, it was like someone had just… erased the last few minutes. I- I was in school, I’d been hit, and everything else was fog. Right, where in school, help point down when. One step at a time.
My eyes bounced around, but nothing stayed still or clear. My glasses? I tried to move a hand, touch my face. Something hard pressed into it. Something moving. The loud thing.
I tried to move my head, see it, but my eyes snagged halfway there. My muscles froze over. My eyes widened with something primal.
My hair. My hair was important. The only scrap of beauty I had, inherited from my mother. Even in my fugue, I knew had to take care of it.
But, it was touching the tiles, soaking in the filthy, nauseatingly sweet liquid clinging to my clothes and skin.
That… that wasn’t right, I had to fix it. I tried to stand, and whatever was on top of me shifted before growling. The ringing was receding — no, it was changing, bleeding into…
Buzzing?
My power? I reached out, my awareness expanded, and everything clicked. Lunch, third floor washroom, my swarm surrounding us. They moved in the walls and ceiling like a sentient wave, but they stayed, my last order to stop barely reining them in.
But my swarm was quiet. So what the hell was buzzing?
I got my answer a second later. A petite blur, brunette with tiny baby-blue accents; Madison had it, something loud in her hand, black and silver.
An electric shaver.
She was going to take my hair, Emma was going to keep me down for it, all while Sophia watched. They’d probably record it, too. I’d be the shaved freak, helpless as they tore out the last marks of my mother from me.
The world shrunk to a pin-prick. The buzzing faded. The beginnings of laughter from Sophia left.
Why? Why couldn’t they have any fucking decency? Why, again and again did they act like goddamn monsters, like fucking fae— It- it was almost as if they didn’t have a choice— but they did!
And so did I. And I refused to be a fucking punching bag.
The dam didn’t break, but oh did it try: the waters behind writhed and hissed, lapping each other and crushing their own nascent waves in their frothing fury. I held them back because I knew, that if I let them, that if I gave them even a taste, that’d I’d be the only one walking out of this stall.
So instead, I let them riot. Let them tear into each other- but not my life.
My swarm and I screamed for war in unison, a million voices united as one, and I bucked. Emma slammed into the stall, I grabbed Madison’s incoming wrist, and around us my army tore itself to pieces. I pulled, Madison unwillingly joined me on the floor, and then I was ontop of her, lunging for Sophia’s blurry legs.
A boot caught me in the chin before I could. I was thrown back, landing in a pile of screeching limbs as Madison squirmed and Emma’s arms wrapped around me. It was too tight in the stall for all of us, that was good, numbers may have been on my side, but I couldn’t use them.
I swung, desperately trying to remember what I’d read about escaping grapples, but I was a fish out of water; awkwardly thrashing, and worst of all, losing. Emma’s hand caught me in the chin, the blow making my teeth clack.
Sophia stepped forward, Madison was mostly out from under me, and I was out of time. If they stood, if they got the upper hand, I was done. I had to keep the pressure on.
I didn’t think, relying on something else entirely. Instinct.
Copper exploded on my tongue, Emma screamed, desperately clawing on my face with her free hand, trying to dislodge her thumb from my mouth as my teeth ground on bone. It only devolved from there.
Humans are, at their core, brutal, viscous, and — goddamn it but it was the truth, and this entire day only proved it — selfish things.
But we could be better, if there was one thing I wanted to believe it was that. I was taught that by the kindest woman I knew, and I’d sooner die than stop believing in it. But that didn’t mean I could blind myself to this truth.
So when Emma’s arm reeled back to strike me, and I saw my opening? I took it.
I struck first, with all the viciousness of Earth’s dominant species behind it. My elbow caught her in the chin, and she fell back like a puppet, groaning over the toilet as I spat blood— but that was all the respite I got before Sophia was on me.
I didn’t stand a fucking chance, that became apparent in the first ten seconds. Even if I was at my physical peak, hers was one built over years, not months. The stall swiftly turned into a madhouse, overheated bodies roiling over each other, each trying to find some kind of purchase. Even Madison occasionally got a kick in, when Sophia screamed at her loud enough.
But when she tried her latest cheap-shot, still too afraid to enter the fray proper, I yanked her other foot from under her.
She fell with a deafening crack.
Her answering scream was prompt, at least, so any theoretical worries I had for her health were calmed. Besides, I was more focused on the elbow in my stomach and nails tearing out rows of skin from my face.
I gnashed at the fingers when they got close but Sophia pulled back — she’d learned quick I was still willing to bite — and I slammed a fist into the growling mass on top of me. Something crunched, and a nasally howl rang out.
It sounded more like a cheer than I’d ever heard from her.
That was the last thought I had before a hand grabbed my jaw, yanked my head to the side, and—
Crack!
The world dimmed. Flickered…
…It came back with a roar, spitting sparks in my eyes, knives through my lungs, and adrenaline through my veins. Tile had broken — I could feel the shards in my cheek — but I was just thankful my skull hadn’t instead. I hadn’t been out for long; Sophia was still getting up.
She’d pulled herself from the tangle of limbs, but still stood in the stall. I could see her boots but not much else; just the idea of moving was agony, and I wasn’t sure I’d keep my lunch down if I did. I clumsily rallied what bugs remained, it’d ruin what thin cover I had (the bugs had gotten loud during our fight, I think?) but I’d sooner be outed before I donned a mask than never don one.
But she didn’t hit me, didn’t even spit on me, just stumbled out of the stall. Was the door broken? It looked broken, listing at the bottom and popped off its hinge. It was hard to tell. The world was on the wrong axis, and the cold, wet tile and pulsing lights were… very distracting.
And the ringing too.
I focused on my bugs, and they kept my battered head grounded instead of exploring the pulsing clouds. I almost laughed; at least I’d found a new trick out of this mess, right?
And beneath the pounding blood and that high ringing keen, past the aches so deep that even my bones felt bruised and what must have been a migraine, something new disturbed me. Because I clearly hadn’t had enough yet.
Sophia-fucking-Hess was laughing, something high and stuttering that started as a fucking giggle and turned into full breathless cackling, like she’d just stepped off a rollarcoaster as she stumbled away.
“Ho- Holy shit! Ha-hah! I should’ve fucking believed you Emma! Hear that!? You were right! This little fuck does have some bite in her!”
Emma moaned, still slumped over the toilet not three feet from me, and I barely saw her fumble through the art of standing, “Fhuck aff, Soohp. Fhuckin— she fhucking rhuined ma hand!”
The mini-Taylor perched on my shoulder cackled, the dollar-store devil costume both three sizes too small and too big making her truly ugly, instead of just not pretty. At least someone was pleased, but Emma slurring her words like a drunk sailor due to her injuries only added to whatever story they’d make up. Also it turned out my technique wasn’t fool-proof. Something to improve on.
Speaking of, Emma punctured her assessment with a limp kick at my shins, because she was truly petty at what passed for her heart.
I clumsily grabbed her shoe for it, and she moved quicker after that, scurrying away and keeping her distance.
“Ha- Ha-are you kidding!? The scar will be fucking awesome!” Sophia sounded like a kid in a candy store, what the fuck was wrong with her?
At least I didn’t enjoy this.
Much.
…Oh fuck, please don’t let me be the same brand of crazy as Sophia Hess; sharing a city with the psycho was more than enough.
“Ihf- If youh’d dohne bedder I- I woulhdn’ have a scar a’ ahll! I,” she swallowed, spoke slower, “I ‘hought you were ghood at ‘his!”
“Oh fuck off — you know that’s different! Literally! You’ve seen me fight!” There was history there, a hint at why Emma had turned? I wasn’t sure, most of my effort was on spitting blood and struggling to sit up.
At least Madison didn’t add her voice to the cacophony pounding in my skull; every sound felt like a firecracker going off behind my eyes. Her quiet sobbing by the door was thankfully just that, quiet.
Head doing its best rendition of the Forth of July, I finally sat up, lying my back flat against the stall’s wall and just… breathing. I felt fucking exhausted. Wrung out. My hands shook as I checked over my hair, gliding through raven ringlets and finding it wet, but whole enough that nothing felt off.
My chest rattled with relief, and I glared at Emma off to the side, only catching her limping legs as she put more distance between us, cursing at Madison and calling her some less-than-savoury words for doing ‘fuck-all’.
When she turned back to my stall — our stall? There was enough blood on here for it to be anyone’s — and called out, I refocused; would she try to rally? Kick me while we were all down?
What I heard was arguably worse.
“—ou hear me ‘aylor!? You’re life’ fhucking over, cunt! We won! I won, I’m fucking stronger than you!” Was it just the head-trauma talking or was Emma vaguely hysterical at the end? I couldn’t tell, and only focused on kicking the jelly in my legs to something resembling muscle. Oh, and planning out my now thoroughly complicated life.
Of course, my thoroughly thrashed mind wandered somewhat, after the washroom door’s slam sounded the Trio’s retreat.
…Slowly, a smile stretched across my blood-slick lips, and I let out a sound that even startled me.
I laughed, something loud and- and free? It felt free. The Trio had ran. I hadn’t won, not by any real metric, but I’d proved something. That I wasn’t weak. Even without my powers I could be someone, could stand up for something.
And if I did this without powers, what could I do with them?
Sure, I didn’t plan on fighting that high above my weight-class — something almost impossible, with the types of Parahumans in Brockton — but so long as I didn’t fight Lung I honestly felt…
Sure, for once. Like my goals weren’t wistful smoke and the daydreams of a bullied girl with no friends.
I was still the latter, obviously, but… progress. Sweet, blissful progress.
Then the sirens came, and I swiftly remembered I had places to be. Namely, anywhere but Winslow. So, it was off to home, a quick pickup of my costume and some widows, and then?
Well, it certainly felt like the sky was the limit. Didn’t it?
“That’s it. My, uh, ‘super-villain origin story’, which might I remind you is a misnomer, as I uh, didn’t do anything villainous? And I’m not a villain besides? I defended myself, not even using my power when I could have easily stung them to an early grave—”
“But you wanted to, and all that matters is that your heart’s in the right place,” the distressingly pretty boy in front of my said with a smirk. I’d almost think he was serious, if not for him being, well, himself.
Alec’s full lips softly quirked at whatever face I made, and mirth danced with a lazy flame in his light-blue eyes. He sat back, lounging, his legs spread and arms wide like he owned the couch. He didn’t; we were in what the group called ‘The Loft’. It was shockingly cozy for a wretched hive of scum and villainy, and I found myself sinking into the arm chair I’d been all but shoved into by the… also distressingly pretty blonde.
Honestly, the longer I looked at both of them the closer their ratings got to very distressingly pretty. From their good looks to actual senses for fashion I was thoroughly outclassed, and that’s not even mentioning the other two; where Lisa and Alec were pretty, easy on the eyes in a way I never was, Rachel and Brian were… uhm…
Really. Really. Really hot? They were built like warriors pulled from myth, all muscle and big frames and- and far too warm and welcoming. Which Alec was surprised at for some reason? Rachel seemed a bit stoic, but it’s like he expected her to bite my head off.
Maybe it had something to do with how we met.
“—aylor. Earth to Taylor? You with us Hun?”
I blushed — and not just from zoning out, “Y- Yeah, sorry, my mind wandered.”
“That’d be the concussions.”
“Oh.”
Lisa leaned back, smirking, and I had more fuel added to the fire in my cheeks as she lazily stretched, showing a sliver of midriff. She reminded a bit of a cat, or maybe a fox, parked on the open kitchen’s table, making a mockery of the chairs nearby.
She always looked a bit like she was the only one in on a joke.
“So,” she started, “now that Alec’s got his daily enrichment I’d just like to congratulate you; you’ve seriously made an impression with the public.” She hit a few keys on the laptop that hasn’t left her side once, before turning it around and showing some… strongly worded news articles.
“’Bug-Based-Blight in Brockton Bay’? That’s assumption, and wrong besides: none of my bugs are carriers, I make sure of it.” Lisa laughed, more a snort than anything, and promptly grabbed her ridiculously sugary mug of coffee as I read.
Most were plain fear-mongering or wildly blown out of proportions; I had never ‘blotted out the sun’ with my swarm, as good an idea as it might be, the risks of drawing in capes was far too high.
“I personally like ‘Fighting Filth with Filth, Brockton Bay’s Newest Vigilante’.” Alec said, and oh I could hear the smug in his voice.
“Rude,” I said, not even bothering to turn around as a massive moth landed on his nose.
He promptly freaked so hard he fell backwards off the couch, and I felt only slightly sorry for him.
Lisa laughed, at least, and the heat that brought to my cheeks was… a shockingly nice feeling, for once. “Anyways,” she said, “so long as you don’t do anything stupid these will cool off, don’t worry. Besides, the general populace of Brockton Bay aren’t the sharpest.”
“Firstly, I don’t do stupid things—”
“Remind me,” Alec said, scrambling to the couches back and propping his head up,“How exactly did we met again?”
This time the blush was thoroughly unpleasant, more like a bonfire than a warm oven. I probably deserved that, but still, it was hardly my fault.
“I’m going to shove that halberd up your ass you ungrateful prick! Seriously!? I ‘only made things worse!?’ He said he was going to kill kids!”
“You’ve injected him with enough venom to nearly kill him, as an opening move, that is an unreasonable escalation of force and if this is you’re first night out, I frankly don’t think you should be out in the first place. At least without supervision, which brings me to—”
“I swear to fucking god if you mention the Wards I’m going to smack you, I don’t care if there’s a helmet in the way, your ass is mine you overgrown can of ego!”
“Get his ass new-girl!”
“For fuck’s sake man, you’re not helping!”
I still don’t know what the hell had gotten into me, but my temper had been on a hair-trigger ever since that last day at Winslow.
Maybe it was the forced homelessness? Or the concussions. Maybe both?
Probably both.
I ignored Alec’s laughing and subsequent screaming as Lisa threw stale donuts at him. My technical career start as an opportunist hero (and god didn’t that sound horrible on paper?) had been set off to a rocky road. One that happened to be on fire and prowling with federal agents with personal vendettas.
Needless to say, I’d been forced to improvise. Lung’s fire managed to burn bridges even with the man insentient with venom, doubly so if said bridges were inroads to the local protectorate, so I’d been stuck between ‘solo-hero with the entirety of the ABB after her’, joining the ‘kids’ I’d saved, or… maybe someone else? But that was far too large a maybe.
And so, the term ‘opportunist hero’ was born.
Alec had such a way with words. Sadly that way tended to be backwards, but still.
It’d been easy, too. The Undersiders had ‘liked my nerve’, so an agreement was made; I would help them find acceptable targets to rob, despite still feeling semi-queasy about their being acceptable targets in the first place, and help when asked. They’d help me slam the door on the gangs’ fingers at every opportunity, at least until we could have it hit them on the way out. What happened to the Undersiders after was up in the air.
Oh, and they’d provide a warm bed and daily showers. Meals too, actually. It wasn’t like I could go home. At most I could — and would — send letters, not that my current forays through the Docks were worth writing home, but still. Dad worried.
It was concerning that villains were the capes nicest to me so far, but surely Armsmaster was an outlier for heros, not the bog-standard.
Right?
“Y’know…” Lisa murmured around her Sherlock Holmes cup, fingers tapping away at the rim, “I’ve been wondering something, ever since we met you, actually.”
I tried not to squirm; Lisa was sharp, and a Thinker besides. I got the feeling anything she wanted to know she would, one way or another.
“Canned Ego, he was acting weird, honestly. Don’t get me wrong, He’s got a hard-on for anything that’ll get him a promotion, but he’s usually more chill than that. Doesn’t get that riled easily, y’know?”
“Lisa, please don’t start calling him that.”
“Fear not!” Alec cut in, unsteadily climbing the couch with his phone in hand until he was standing on its back. I dutifully ignored his instructions. He looked a bit like a pirate, honestly, with his white, loose sleeves and black pants and pretty face. Well, if their ship was a rocking couch that couldn’t handle them and kept trying to throw them off, anyways.
He crowed out “I’m making a post on PHO as we speak! ‘Canned Ego Running Rampant in Brockton Bay!’ The public will be aware, and most importantly, safe from this dastardly force!”
“He’s going to hate me, isn’t he? Oh god, I thought the guy was cool a week ago.” my face met my hands, bandages and the creams beneath stinging the skin even with so little pressure, “My childhood hero’s going to hate me, oh fuck. Lisa, distract me, please.”
“On it! I’m pretty sure he’s got a hate-on for you specifically—”
“Not helping!”
“—But, I’ve been trying to figure out why, which is where the distraction comes in.” From between my fingers she sat up, thrust her cup out in the bastard-child of a toast, “Deputy Detective whom I just promoted five seconds ago, I’ve got a mystery for you! Why would ol’ Armsy have it out for you specifically. You kick his niece in the shins? Dent his car by accident and ditch, never telling a soul but getting caught in the dash? Or even—”
I cut her off, if only to stop whatever ammo she would have given Alec, “I don’t know. Maybe he was just pissed I hurt Lung so bad? Which, fair honestly, I… think I overdid it, a little.”
“Eh,” she waffled her hand, “The man’s a bastard. Anyway, he wouldn’t be that mad about it, it’d have to be… Huh. Did you clean up your little bug world war in the rafters?”
“Yes. Leaving that much evidence would have been stupid, and I wasn’t so out of my mind to not realise that.”
“Any of the kids have important parents?”
“No, one of them has a lawyer for a father, but he’s no big-shot, Lisa.”
She huffed, “There’s gotta be something, they wouldn’t care about some kids crying wolf, even with injuries that bad. Well, not random kids anyway—” she froze, eyes widening, “Wait, wait wait wait, the girls who failed to jump you, were any of them black?
I stared, too many years of living in Brockton to not have a gut reaction to a question like that, analyzing everything about Lisa I’d seen so far; she was fine with Brian, but I’d heard people go on about ‘the good ones’ before.
“Wooooooow,” Alec drawled, draped in disappointment so thick it had to be fake, and I saw the exact moment it clicked for her.
“Wait- fuck, not like that! I’m really good at figuring shit out, and the more details the better I get, right? So — for instance, do any of the girls go on about predator and prey? Have a really big but fragile ego, sadist with a short temper who probably runs track? About your height without boots?”
I blinked, hackles slowly lowering, “Sophia. Yeah, that’d fit Sophia to a tee. Why’s this important? Do you know her?” Wouldn’t be surprising if she’d made more enemies; Sophia Hess didn’t exactly have a… glowing personality.
Scratch that, she was a rancid bitch and anyone who disagreed didn’t know her.
Lisa’s lips quivered, and she quickly hid them behind her mug, “Oh yeah, we know her alright. Brian knows her best though, maybe you should ask him about the bolt he’s been meaning to return to a mutual friend?” She was trying far too hard not to laugh. Again, that inside joke.
“No way…” Alec murmured. I turned to him, ready to raise a sliver of hell and find out just what was so funny, but he looked like a kid on Christmas day, awe writ across his face and mouth open, “No fucking way! No way! You’re shitting me! We’ve got two now!? Oh fuck I have to tell him,” he turned, to the hall of doors, “BRIAN! Brian! Get over here man, you’re going to laugh or get pissed or fucking both and I wanna see it!
“Lisa, stop being smug and tell me whats going on.”
She laughed a little, then noticed I was actually starting to get angry and sobered, “We’re not laughing at you, Honey. Promise,” she crossed her heart, “we’re laughing at how small the world is, or the wacky wheel of fate.” Her smile turned sharp, “Or the fact that two people in this building are near the top of Shadow Stalker’s shitlist.”
Oh.
Oh.
I promptly put my head in my hands and groaned, dully listening to Alec’s big reveal to Brian. Sophia not deserving the resources was only part of it; the fact that someone like her could wear the badge of a Ward? Get respect just for showing up? Be called a hero?
Utter horseshit, and it further complicated my life. Again.
But…
I looked up.
…At least I wasn’t alone for it.
Off to the side Brian ground a fist into his forehead, cursing under his breath and visibly tiring by the second. Back on the couch Alec laughed himself hoarse, falling off it again; honestly its a miracle he hadn’t smashed his head open yet. Lisa did her best to ‘help’, adding extra tidbits for Brian to mull over as she ‘pulled Alec up’, but really managed to drop him five times in a row before he scared her off with almost-bites to the ankles.
Distantly, pawed feet clawed up the staircase, heralding their visibly grumpy owner as she took one look at everyone else, promptly sat by me, and growled “Fuckin’ idiots.”
Sure, these people were weird — and oddly hostile to each other sometimes? — but they seemed… fun, and kind enough.
And maybe that was all I needed.