Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chapter 1:

Her name is Annette Hebert.

Wife to Daniel Hebert, mother to Taylor Hebert. Her best friend is Zoe Barnes.

She lives in a home on the north side, simple, two stories, two bedrooms, one guest room, with a squeaky step on the front porch that they haven't fixed.

It needs a new coat of paint and by next week the lawn's got to be mowed...

But those worries were for later.

Right now she had to attend to business concerns. House concerns could wait.

She looked through the warehouse, watching as the workers unloaded the cargo crates and trailers of their load.

Her wonderful husband, Daniel stood just ahead of her, clipboard in hand as he made sure everything was right on schedule.

She walked up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as she placed her head on his shoulder. “How's it looking?”

“All good so far.” He smiled, holding the clip-board up for her to see.

She passed her eyes over it, seeing a lot of checkmarks and numbers. She could make sense of it if she tried, but administration was always more his thing.

She offered him a kiss on the cheek. “Well I'm glad everything-”

A screech of tires interrupted her mid sentence, the flashing blue of police lights illuminating the front of the warehouse

The workers all paused, looking in confusion.

Annette smirked.

Show time.

She stepped away from her husband as he gave a resigned sigh. She winked in his direction, the absolute picture of innocence.

Daniel glared.

“Oh shut up. You love it.” She laughed.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, looked away from her... and smirked at the approaching cops.

More specifically, the approaching prosecutor, plus cops.

Honestly, it looked like a bunch of little ducklings trailing after their mother. A mother duck with a vindictive streak a mile wide.

“Hebert!”

“Brandish, love.” Daniel smiled cordially. “How have you been? Oh, I'm sorry. It's Mrs. Dallon isn't it? Oh. No. Wait. District Attorney Dallon, yes? I must say the change from civil to criminal suits yo-”

“Shut. Up.” She...well... she brandished a piece of paper. This is a search. We know you've got drugs coming in this shipment.”

“Sweetie, if I really wanted to bring in drugs I'd just drive up the free-way. The docks are so cliché for this sort of thing.” He smiled, playing his part to a T. He looked up, behind Dallon as the cops spread around. He gasped, and all but shoved the clip-board into Dallon's chest before marching past her.

“Oh I am such a huge fan!” Danny gushed, marching right into...Lady Photon, shaking the startled heroine's hand. “Could we take a picture together! My daughter won't believe me when I tell her this tonight. You're her favorite I think.”

The look...on Brandish's face...

It only got so much better when Photon's hesitant voice answered. “Ummm...yeah sure.”

“Sarah!”

“What- I-”

“Now Mrs. Dallon, it won't do you any good to be jealous just because your sister's prettier than you.”

“She is not prettier than me!”

Now Lady Photon was crossing her arms and glaring at her sister.

Sometimes Annette really loved her husband...

…

At least until she realized he was flirting with another woman right in front of her.

Then she joined Brandish in glaring, with a raised eyebrow, crossed arms and tapping foot.

And Daniel ignored her...

Oh you are so sleeping on the couch tonight!

(X)(X)(X)

It was hours later, after the cops had thoroughly searched the warehouse and found only crates upon crates of Teddy bears, lined up to be delivered to various children’s charities, that the Heberts stepped into their car. She drove while Daniel waved at Brandish and the police, receiving a wave in return by Lady Photon as they left.

With autographed photo of him and Lady Photon in hand, they set out for home.

Then he stopped smiling, letting out a shaky sigh. “Jesus H. Christ!”

Annette laughed. “Who knew those drama classes in college would be paying off in dividends.”

“Good lord-” He shook his head. “Woman's damn paranoid.”

Annette raised an eyebrow. “No she's not. We are bringing in drugs through the docks.”

“That's your version. Mine is that she's fucking paranoid. Why? Because I'm not goddamn Marquis!”

“But you play me oh so well! I'll have to remember to flirt with Lady Photon next time I'm out.” She laughed, shifting the bones under her skin before setting them back to place.

He offered a long, suffering sigh. “Just promise me that you won't flirt with Manpower or Flashbang. I'm not sure how I'd handle that.”

…

…

…

“Honey... I'm not hearing that promise... Honey?”

(X)(X)(X)

As Annette Hebert walked up to her home, with its slightly faded paint, slightly higher than ideal grass and squeaky front step, she found herself smiling softly.

Home.

Sure, she was the head of a lucrative criminal empire and had enough people, powered and unpowered, at her disposal to give any of the other gangs a solid run for their money, with enough revenue to buy ten houses like this. But this was home.

And she was so glad to be home.

Danny stepped out of the car, picking up the bag of groceries as she got the keys to open up.

“Taylor! We're ho-”

The usual shout she was about to say was thoroughly cut off as she spotted her fifteen year old daughter sitting on the living room couch...with Emma...looking nervous...holding hands.

“Hey Honey what's-” Daniel stopped, looked at the scene and moved to turn flatly around with “I think I left a bag in the car-” before she gripped his bicep, turned him around again and shoved him into the door ahead of her before locking the door behind her.

'I didn't make her by myself!' She glared at his sulking profile.

Then, putting on her best game face, she smiled megawatt bright, deciding to take this issue head on and be as supportive as possible.

“Hi honey! How was school today?”

Yup... totally head on. That was her. Unstoppable.

“Mom...Dad. I have something to say.”

Why can't her daughter be more like her?

She licked her lips, as Daniel moved to put away the groceries, looking anywhere but at them.

Sleeping. On. The. Couch. Forever.

…

…

Oh god...and Emma too. What was she gonna tell Zoe? She was her best friend but...she didn't think either of them wanted their daughters romantically involved with each other. That'd just be awkward as all hell.

“What is it honey?” She smiled, keeping that game face firmly planted on there.

Wait? Did Zoe know and not tell her?

Oh that bitch!

Her shit list was getting rather long with her best friend and husband doing their best to get on it.

“IhavebugcontrolpowersandIwannajointheWards!”

It all came out in a rush and Daniel let out a half gasp, half sigh, half shout combination. “Oh thank god!”

Annette took a minute to process her statement though. Starting with the first half, as Emma offered Taylor a comforting hug.

Her daughter had powers...

Her little owl had powers...

Her Taylor had powers!

She could become a lieutenant! Learn the Business! Piss off Brandish! No! Even better! Piss off Glory Girl! That would annoy that paranoid bitch even more! Annette was...

Oh! This was the happiest day of her life!

…

Just as soon as she murdered whoever made her little girl trigger.

But that could come later! Right now she had to examine the second half of Taylor's stateme-

She blinked. The second half hitting her like a freight train. Derailing the careful picture she'd been painting in her mind about tomorrow and all the days to come until it was little more than burning, slagged remnants of her hopes and dreams.

She blinked again.

The words came out before her brain could catch up with her mouth.

“You're sure it’s not that you're gay?”

Taylor and Emma stared at her as if she'd grown a second head.

“No...Why on earth would you think that?”

…

“Please?” She tried again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:

It’s a bright, sunny Tuesday morning when the supervillain Marquis, with nefarious and malicious intent, infiltrated the PRT headquarters.

…

Ok, she just walked through the front door with her husband and daughter...

And she was decidedly not sulking as her daughter practically bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement.

“Honey. Stop brooding.” Danny said, nudging her ribs with his thumb.

She turned her eyes to her smiling husband as Taylor marched forward, firmly taking the lead as she walked up to the receptionist. “Heberts. Nine o'clock appointment.”

This was it. It was really happening.

She'd honestly tried to muster the courage to talk her out of it, but with Emma right there encouraging her baby girl, Taylor had practically gotten on a rainbow kite headed for La-la land and hadn't touched down yet. Sounding so very excited about being a hero like her childhood idol Alexandria.

She hadn't had the heart to burst that bubble.

Besides that... why should she?

Taylor only knew the PR side of the PRT and Protectorate.

All she had to do was wait. More likely than not the Heroes would have had a bad day and would be tired and irritated and – Goddamnit!!! Why didn't she think of that before!!!

She could have started a gang war with the Empire, blown up the Boardwalk, beaten the shit out of Brandi-No. No. She did that last week. She suspected Assault got a laugh out of it too. But she could have hired Faultline to go and blow up a merchant warehouse or something. Give them some fires to put out or civilians to evacuate or something...

Damnit! Maybe she could get Taylor to decide to come back tomorrow and tonight she'd smuggle some grenades into Halbeard's-

The receptionist smiled at Taylor- The bitch!- and actually had the nerve to sound as nice as she looked when she spoke. “Oh yes of course, please follow me.” The woman actually sounded like she chirped. Who the hell actually chirped when they spoke!?

Why wasn't she impatient? Irritated? Weren’t all receptionists irritated and impatient? Why did she have to find the one receptionist in Brockton Bay on her first day before she got all bitter and angry!? And had that look of beaten down hope and crushed dreams hanging about their face like a death mask!

Seriously. They all had it.

That one right there just one cubicle over had it. Why did they have to get this nice chirpy one? (This Bitch)

She took a deep... calming breath.

It was ok, she reminded herself. Not all was lost.

With a New Ward inductee, Piggot or Armsmaster would be the ones to see them. And both of them were notorious assholes!

All she had to do was wait. When they showed up and Armsmaster acted like an ass or Piggot tried her bullshit intimidation tactics on them, she and Danny could twist it around to make it seem worse and Taylor would be completely put off this whole Hero thing.

It'd be fine, just fine.

The receptionist led them to a private, relatively comfortable room, smiling as she asked them if they wanted any snacks or drinks.

They all said no and Annette glared at the waiting room.

When did waiting rooms get leather seats? What happened to plain white walls and shitty chairs that made your ass hurt after thirty minutes?

These Heroes were too goddamn nice...

Taylor was smiling.

So was Danny. You ass, this is not the time to be smiling!

She smiled too, though if one were to look at her for more than a few seconds they'd see it wasn't so much smiling as it was baring tightly grit teeth.

Just wait for Armsmaster or Piggot. Just gotta wait for them...

The receptionist kept on talking. “Alright then, it shouldn't be more than a minute before Miss Militia gets here.”

And like yesterday, all of her hopes and dreams derailed, crashed, burned and turned into molten slag right before her eyes. They even had the courtesy of exploding this time. The dark cloud of billowing smoke taking the shape of a bared middle finger.

The receptionist had the gall to smile at her...

Smile!

The bitch!!!

…

…

Miss Militia...

Honestly- Miss goddamn Militia. The only way this could possibly be worse is if they brought in-

The door opened, and in waltzed the red, white and blue heroine herself, scarf and all.

And right behind her was Assault.

Did...she piss off some kind of higher power?

Goddamn Assault! The nicest guy in the building!

…

…

She was so gonna kick both their asses when she saw them next!

(X)(X)(X)

“Ok Miss Hebert, let me see if I'm understanding this right. You say that you have a form of Master power that allows you to control insects, yes?”

“Yes Ma'am,” her Taylor answered, practically bouncing in her seat.

“How much control can you exert?” Militia asked next.

“I can control every bug in my range.”

“We talking feet?” Assault ventured. “Yards...”

“Couple city blocks I think.” Her little girl said before looking up. “I have...” She paused. “Three thousand two hundred and twenty seven bugs in my range right no-Oh! I have crabs.”

The four adults turned to look at the girl who was currently staring up at the ceiling.

Assault took a breath, holding up a single finger.

“No. No.” He decided. “Too easy.”

She glared.

“It’s only about thirty or so.” Taylor continued, oblivious, or ignoring him. “Didn’t know I could do that. Maybe it's anything with an exoskeleton?

Taylor’s face scrunched up in concentration.

Instantly, two houseflies and a roach made themselves known, with the two flies carrying the roach onto the table.

Militia pulled her hands back and what they could see of Assault's face showed his surprise.

Annette almost held out a sliver of hope.

They were creeped out! They'd probably say or do the wrong thi-

“Please tell me you can do that with spiders and totally drop them on Halbeard's beard while he's sleeping!” Assault looked at Taylor like she was his new favorite buddy.

Her daughter preened

…

…

Forget kicking his ass. That was too good- too nice a thing to do in retaliation for his active, vindictive role in crushing her hopes and dreams.

Nooo. What she was doing, was taking all those old blackmail pictures from Detroit that she had of him and that villainess, Dominatrix, that she'd managed to scrounge up when she hired him for that old job back in ‘02, and posting them all over the internet.

No. No! That was too simple. She'd give them to Battery! Hah! She'd seen that woman pissed off! And anything she could do would pale in comparison to-

“Very precise control.” Militia complimented (Hag) “Can you control all your bugs this way?”

“Yeah. I even made my own suit with spider silk.”

“You did/Huh?” Were Danny and Annette's respective voices.

Taylor, heaven help her, actually did look like she was bouncing in her seat. She reached behind her, into the backpack she'd brought with her, and pulled out her costume.

It was...

It was everything she could have hoped for! Dark in color, yellow eyes that would catch the moonlight with intimidating glints... Mandibles... it had Mandibles!

Why...why did her daughter, with all this lovely creative talent that was simply begging to be used for nefarious, intimidation purposes want to be a boring old Hero!? Why!?

'It's just not fair!' She morosely decided.

“Just how long have you been keeping your powers a secret young lady?” Danny asked.

“Few months.” Taylor answered back

“This is very good work.” Militia spoke again, (Hag!) pulling at the fabric between her fingers and then shifting the green baton that had been at her waist into a knife and slicing at the fabric, “Tear and slash resistant. Durable, breathable. This is very good work.”

Her daughter smiled megawatt bright.

Militia smiled back. “Well. It’s good that you've taken an interest in joining the Wards. A lot of fresh triggers unfortunately end up being recruited by the gangs, or worse.”

If looks could kill... Well... They could. Just not in her case. But if Her looks could kill, Militia would have been reduced to a charred, sticky somewhat runny paste that would have been seeping into the cracks between the tiles right this second.

“Unfortunately we can't accept you into the Wards right now.”

Taylor's face fell as Annette visibly brightened.

If looks could fire love beam-... Well... They could bu- Gah! Anyway! If Her looks could fire love beams she'd be planting one on Militia right now!

The woman was her personal Hero today!

“What!? Why?” Her daughter, Bless her, looked stricken. But she would get over it in time, just in time for her to show her the inner workings of-

“Well we have a lot of paperwork that needs to be signed and verified. One in particular has to be taken before a notary and-”

As Militia droned on, Annette made a mental note to pull her punches a little next time they crossed paths on the up and u-

“Oh!? That? I already did that!”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come again?”

Taylor reached back into her backpack again, and pulled out a sheaf of paperwork, setting it on the table like a brick, her smile back in place. “Yeah. Me and Emma! When we found out I had powers she helped me find all this stuff online! Mr. Barnes was more than happy to notarize it for me!”

…

…

Ok. Annette decided to make a mental checklist for the week.

Slash the receptionists tires.

Publish all the crap she had on Assault.

Cut Militia some slack... Screw it, she's getting the shit kicked out of her too.

Steal Armsmaster's halberd as payback for not showing up.

Sabotage Piggot's dialysis machine.

Convince Zoe to divorce Alan and take all his money.

Shoot Brandish in the foot... because why the fuck not that's why!

Blow up a church.

Because clearly God wanted to screw with her today so as far as she was concerned he was fair game too dammit!

(X)(X)(X)

Later that night, she sat in bed, her nightstand light on. Daniel was laying at her side, hands clasped over his chest, eyes closed.

She glared at the opposing wall as if it had offended her grievously with the mere crime of existing within her gaze.

“You're brooding again.”

“Shut up Dan.”

He smiled. What was it with people and smiling today!? Today was a shitty day and she was the only one who got the memo!

Daniel leaned up to a sitting position.

“If you're so sulky about it why not tell her that you needed time to think about it? Taylor's a good girl. She'd have been a bit disappointed but she'd understand.”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. She's too much like me! I tell her no and she'll just want to do it even more and I'll be the bad guy! I'm not the bad guy!”

…

…

“Figuratively speaking.” She finished after a second. “Besides, what kind of mother do you think I am? Putting my own wants ahead of my little girl?”

He smiled a little wider. “Well, what are you gonna do?”

“I'm gonna help her be the best goddamn hero Brockton Bay has ever seen!”

“... You're hoping she just gets sick and tired of all the red tape and goes villain on her own huh?”

She backhanded him in the chest. “Stop taking the wind out of my 'selfless, loving mother' sails

“Of course hun.” He offered her a kiss on the cheek and settled back down to get some sleep.

Annette Hebert did no brooding that night.

No.

The Marquis (Or Marquess as she privately called herself) did not brood. She did what all supervillains do.

Plot.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter 4:

Sophia Hess, AKA: Shadow Stalker, wasn't exactly what one would call a people person.

90% of the time her relationship with her fellow Wards could be called 'Tolerable'.

The remaining 10% of the time drove her to do solo patrols. Where she could break things without anyone giving her crap. Glass, trash, arms, legs, necks. You know. Little things that no one really needed.

It was just that...they were just a bunch of kids. Vista, quite literally was. Her costume had lime green coloration in it. Lime green! The only things that could get away wearing that color were either poisonous frogs, or a frat boy who wanted to look like a retarded, needs-to-come-out-of-the-closet douche bag.

Kid Win was annoyingly bright, modeling himself after Hero when he could barely string two laser pistols together most weeks. Hero could make his shit work because he was fucking Hero! The first bullshit Tinker that Bullshit Tinkers took posters of and hung em up on their walls like obsessed girls with their boy-band favorites.

Clock was a fucking moron.

Gallant wanted to be a knight in shining armor so bad, if he bent over too hard he'd be shitting platinum.

And Aegis...actually Aegis was just kinda boring really.

Not platinum-shitting like Gallant, not a kid like Vista, nor a joker like Clock and not an idiot Tinker who couldn't find his badass bone with a map, both hands and a For Dummies guide.

He was just...kinda there...like the token normal guy of the group. Nothing really stood out except for his power.

So yeah. On most days, the best she could do with her teammates was say that they tolerated one another.

So when she got word that they were getting a new teammate that was fifteen rather than eighteen or so, which would have at least made room for her to perhaps be a bit more mature than these kids, like Triumph. She was curious, but she didn't exactly hold out a great deal of hope that this...bug girl or whatever would be any more palatable to her tastes than any of the other Wards.

Hell, her immediate opinion of the girl was bug girl.

Not exactly a ringing endorsement.

More likely than not the PR department would color her an even more atrocious color than Vista and make her walk around with butterflies and caterpillars or some shit.

Hell, how useful were bugs anyway?

…

Yeah. She didn't hold out much hope.

As such it was more than a little surprising when she finally met her.

Sophia had fought Rune, Alabaster, and even Victor once. But she could admit… if she ever found bug girl in a dark alley she might just consider going the other way on a purely 'Creeps me the fuck out' kinda way.

She was tall. Ridiculously tall. She was at an eye level with Carlos, the costume and its claws made her limbs look gangly and a little inhuman.

Sophia would have given the PR department some serious chops, and maybe gone to see whoever took over for the dumbass from before if it hadn't been quickly clarified that Bug girl had made the suit herself.

That made her snort. If she wanted to look like any kind of badass she came to the worst possible place in the world to do it.

She could already hear that PR guy's grating, nasally voice as soon as he caught sight of her.

'No. No, those claws have to go. It's precisely because they could be useful in hand to hand combat that we're eliminating them.'

'We'll have to dye this suit. Perhaps a ladybug theme. Or butterflies. Beetles? Have you lost your mind!? If it can't be made into an effective plush toy then it is unfit for fighting crime!'

'The eye lenses are all wrong. They make you look like you're out to murder whomever gets close. You must be approachable- Yes yes, but children and their parents in the malls and fundraisers don't have knives or guns so it'll even out I'm sure.'

'All of those bees, hornets, spiders, roaches and flies can never be used. What? I don't know what that leaves you with. It's not my job to think of battle tactics involving insects. I'm just here to be certain you don't make yourself look anything short of pristine when you go out there.'

'This is us being effective. We left you the knife resistant suit didn't we?'

She rolled her eyes. She could almost feel bad for the bug girl already.

"And this is Shadow Stalker."

She blinked, caught off guard as Carlos introduced her. When the hell did he get here? When did the bug girl get here?

"Hello! Haven't picked out a name yet for myself but I'm glad to meet ya!"

She was smiling. Or at least, Sophia got the impression she was smiling. No one could sound that cheerful without having a smile.

And just like that all intimidation and "badass points" went out the window, never to come back again. The girl sounded more peppy than an air-flight stewardess. She didn't think that even existed.

She shrugged. "Whatever. Don't mind me. I'm just here to see the show."

Her head tilted. "Show?"

"Well, ya see-" Carlos began, coughing a little awkwardly. "After you actually join the Wards there are some things that need to be tested out. Your powers are the most obvious thing of course but we also have to test your physical fitness, hand eye co-ordination, baseline aptitudes and things like that. Me, my week is booked solid between a couple of school projects I've got to give in and patrols. So today is, unofficially, the best time for me to test if you know how to fight."

"Why unofficial?"

"Because there are usually at least a half dozen PRT scientists, PR guys and personnel monitoring everything to give advice and opinions on various factors.

"Buuullshit. I caught one of those guys playing Galaga. They just run a betting pool on how long the Newbie lasts!" Clockblocker chuckled. "I'll be nice and say you'll last three minutes!"

Vista groaned. "Ignore the village idiot!"

Carlos shook his head, speaking, and ignoring Clock's voice in the distance. ("Yay! I've been promoted from 'Town drunk! By next year I'll just be "The Simpleton!")

"I'm doing this now because then, I can just write my report and they'll be satisfied with that until the other tests are done, rather than making me reschedule my whole week. So it does give me a bit of breathing room. Only if you agree of course. No hard feelings if you don't considering that I'm kinda dropping this on you out of the blue."

Bug girl seemed to be a good sport about it though. Nodding. "Yeah! Sure! That'd be fine! What do I get if I win?"

Sophia practically snorted.

"Haha. Dunno. You're welcome to try and find out though."

And so the bug girl followed Aegis like a lost puppy.

Personally, she thought Clock was being delusional. Thirty seconds tops.

Carlos could take her.

(X)(X)(X)

When they made it to the private gym the Wards and Heroes had available to them she expected them to just get on with the goddamn show real quick. She could see the new girl get thrown on her ass for a bit then go back to doing more important crap.

Then of course, the girl decided to start asking questions.

The first two questions, "Are weapons allowed" and "Can I use my more dangerous bugs" actually gave her a bit of hope for the new girl.

She decided to be generous and up the time by thirty seconds. So one minute.

Carlos could still take her.

Then of course, the girl kept on asking questions.

And it was stupid questions to boot.

How long have you been a Ward, captan?

Oh, when are you going to the Protectorate?

Do you get paid?

Have you done this for many new recruits?

How many villains have you fought?

What is the meaning of being a Hero?

How often do you work out?

Is this room Thirty by fifty, or fifty by thirty?

On and on and on the questions went. She heard about delaying because you're nervous but this shit was just ridiculous.

She was deducting two seconds for each stupid question she asked.

She was at Negative hundred something something, and seriously considering just up and leaving when the Girl finally chirped out the Words they'd all been dying to hear.

"Ok! All ready!"

"Oh thank god!" Clock sighed, waking up a startled Vista.

"Whazzat?

Sophia focused on the pair standing on the matt…

And the girl took no fighting stance.

Oh god. She's even more hopeless than any of them ever thought.

Carlos seemed to sigh. Moving to take his own fighting stance…

And he tripped.

His leg started to move, then jerked to a stop and Carlos' arms pinwheeled with the sudden loss of balance and equilibrium.

That's when his arms caught all the other webs.

Sophia watched in fascinated horror as dozens, maybe hundreds of spiders slid down their webs connected to Carlos' arms like tiny demon spelunkers from hell, getting right on the struggling boy's fingers and crawling on his suit to reach the fleshy bits and start biting.

Carlos, to his credit, rallied quickly, and used his forehead and chin to valiantly resist and squish what spiders got within reach, but there was only so many places his face could reach at once.

"Ow! Ow! Ok! Ok!" Carlos laughed. "So that's why you were asking all those questions huh? Gave your bugs time to set all this up."

The girl nodded, all but bouncing on her toes. "Yup."

"Huh. So with some prep time you can really do some damage. Not exactly what the exercise is about though."

"Oh. Ok! And I had so many other things ready to go too."

And just like that the spiders pulled back out, pulling away their webbing like a bunch of grandmothers pulling away their knitting yarns.

Carlos shook himself off. "Ok. Lets try this again.

This time, the girl took up the most pathetic looking boxer's stance Sophia had ever seen. And she'd seen Clockblocker fight.

Carlos, carefully this time, took his own.

When the girl made no move, he decided to rush forward.

He came at her with a telegraphed, sloppy hay-maker. Either taking it easy on the girl or setting her up for a faster, more professional attack as soon as she blocked that one.

She did block, then her other hand reached out, touched Carlos in the gut and he pulled away.

There was a dart in his stomach

"That one didn't have any poison...I think. But I win again right?!"

"You have a wrist dart launcher!?" Clockblocker asked. "Ya know, you just went up like...fifteen points on the hotness scale right? You got Sophia beat on your first day!

"I will shoot you," Sophia assured him.

"Uhh well..." Carlos hummed. "This is to measure how well you can fight in hand to hand.…"

"But that was hand to hand." She said. "Your hand touched mine and now you're dead...sorta. Ohh. I have the Antidote too...If it was poisoned." She pulled out a big Epi-pen like device. "Don't think it was. Maybe we should use it just in case. Oh. No no. That won't work. You'll just get poisoned for real if you weren't poisoned before. Can you tell if your poisoned? It kinda starts with tingling and numbness followed shortly by dead...any numbness?"

"Ok…" He half sighed. "Lets try this one more time. No wrist launcher darts. No spiders. Ok?"

"Yes." She nodded.

He took a stance, still within arm's reach of her.

Bug girl looked down at him...and Carlos went down.

Well… two other darts shot out of her face and hit Carlos in the face! But that was besides the point.

"I didn't use wrist darts or spiders just like you said! How'd you know I still had another trick up my sleeve with the mandible darts? Me and Dad stayed up all night trying to make sure they couldn't be seen to really catch people off guard! Did we screw up? Is there a mirror around here?"

And she turned away from the twitching body at her feet, searching for a mirror.

She, Vista and Clock all stared slack-jawed.

Her badass points hadn't gone out the window never to come back again. They'd just excused themselves for a minute to go find their missing buddies.

"Boy...PR guy's gonna have a field day with her!" Clock said.

"Conniption fit is more like it." Vista put forward.

And Sophia vowed, in that second that this was the One teammate she was not gonna lose to the horrors of PR BULLSHIT!

This girl was going to remain deadly, lethal and fucking terrifying come hell, shit or high fucking waters!

Chapter Text

Canon Omake by Charnobyl

Somewhere in middle America, a cell phone rang. The owner of said phone glanced at the caller ID and winced. He still took the call, though. The consequences of screening calls from cousin Annette were...

Jack Slash suppressed a shudder.

...undesirable.

"Hello?"

"I'm calling in that favor," she said without preamble. Jack hesitated before answering. Annette had lots of favors she could call in, and he wasn't eager to remind her of any she might've forgotten.

"Specifically, the one from my keeping quiet about your 'international tour.'"

Oh goddamnit, he cursed internally. Of course it would be that one. Seriously, the one time he tried to bring the Slaughterhouse Nine to somewhere other than North America, and how did it end? With cousin Annette waving proof of his various indiscretions under his nose. That trip had gone wrong in record time. Over the course of twelve hours, he and two another Americans had gotten into the kind of trouble that could be summed up with some exotic drinks, a one-legged Taiwanese prostitute, and Manton's temporary and very ill-fated foray into transvestism, culminating in over a dozen new arrest warrants for 'Jacob Bowie' across the Middle East and Asia. That had not been Jack's finest hour, to say the least.

"...okay, sure. What do you need?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Advice. How soon can you and Riley get to Brockton Bay? And I mean just you and Riley."

Jack did some mental calculations. It'd take a little while to find wherever William had parked his creepy van, but at that point, all he needed to do was pour some sugar in the gas tank, put Riley in a duffel bag, and then tell Siberian he was going on a quick personal trip to Juarez. By the time she (and by effect, William) realized that Riley was missing and gotten the van back in working order, they'd still be racing towards a city almost completely opposite to where Jack was actually going.

"Half-hour to get ready, then about twelve hours of driving."

"Good. Do it."

"Can I at least ask what to expect? The last time I was in Brockton Bay was for the wedding, and you remember how that went."

"Heh, good times...but yes. Taylor triggered, and she's determined to join the Wards and be a hero."

Jack's gaze hardened as he mentally amended his to-do list. He'd leave a first aid kit and an MRE in the duffel bag for Riley to play with. By the time they reached Brockton Bay, he'd have something sufficiently compact and terrifying to throw in the face of whoever made the mistake of triggering his goddaughter.

"I understand. Powers?"

"Bug control. Pretty much anything with an exoskeleton, too."

For the first time in the conversation, Jack smiled. Oh, Riley and Taylor were going to have so much fun together.

Brockton Bay, less so.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5:

Daniel Hebert, after being married to the woman for nearly two decades, felt safe enough to declare that he could read his wife and her moods rather accurately.

And today she was in a good mood.

In fact, he could have probably been able to tell even if he weren’t married to her.

For one, she was smiling brightly.

Secondly, she was humming as she read the paper.

So yes. She was happy.

And he was almost afraid to ask, but… goddamnit he had to know.

“Ok… What did you do?”

She beamed at him, evidently having been waiting for the question. “Its Taylor’s first patrol today!”

“Yes I know.” He nodded. “She was bouncing off the walls last night. You however, were sulking.”

“I was,” she admitted. Damn. This had to be a great morning. “Then I went and dusted off some of those blackmail files at the office and guess who I’ve got under my thu~umb?” She all but sing-songed before devolving into a near deranged cackling, eyes gleeming with glee. “She’ll be ready to burn the PRT base down to the ground by the time tonight is over and done with!”

Daniel Hebert, after being married to the woman for nearly two decades, and having known their daughter Taylor for nearly as long, could already tell that this was a situation he had to treat very, very delicately.

After all, these were the two most determined, intelligent, head-strong, creative and downright terrifying women that had ever walked the earth. Each determined to get their own way.

One of them would probably end up dissapointed.

As such, as he listened to his wife cackling madly at their dining room table, he entertained the thought that, perhaps he should try to avert this oncoming head on collision/disaster before they went past the event horizon and their neighborhood imploded with energies and forces that could be liked to a tornado meeting a volcano.

Then he remembered that he did, in fact, like living.

“That sounds great dear,” he said before turning to make himself a cup of coffee, some eggs, some bacon and perhaps some hash-browns.

Yup. A totally, completely normal evening here in the Hebert household.

Hell, this house was so normal, Emma was coming over tomorrow!

Yes yes. Never underestimate the power of self delusion...

(X)(X)(X)

Elsewhere, a red headed girl shivered as she brushed her teeth.

“Why do I feel like someone just walked over my grave?”

(X)(X)(X)

Also, at the same time, James Durant, chief PR director for the PRT ENE was a strange mixture of relieved and justifiably apprehensive.

Apprehensive because...well… he’d gotten a call late last night. As well as an email.

An email which showed that he did indeed have several outstanding warrants for his arrest across the Middle East and Asia.

Very. Very. Very damning information.

He’d been young, and stupid! So unbelievably stupid!

If someone would have warned him that a Zambuki, two friends, a drag queen and a one-legged Taiwanese hooker could get him over twenty-seven arrest warrants in fourteen different countries in the span of twelve hours; he never would have gone to that baby shower!

But alas, no one had warned him.

Hence his current situation.

Blackmail.

The relief he was feeling however, was that the voice on the phone hadn’t asked for anything too horrible from him. Infact, the voice on the phone hadn’t even asked for anything he wouldn’t have given entirely on his own later today.

The voice just wanted him to take away the bug girl’s spiders.

And her bees.

And her wasps.

And her bombardier beetles.

And her bullet ants.

And her scorpions.

And her japanese killer hornets.

And her wrist dart launchers.

And her mandible dart launchers.

And her claws.

And her taser.

And her pepper spray.

And the collapsible baton.

And her hair-pins.

The voice on the phone had put special emphasis on those hair-pins for some reason.

Honestly, just the thought of the girl was giving him nightmares. His old mentor, Glen, would have had a conniption.

So here he was, making his way down the steps of his apartment building to get to his car, his file and report in hand, ready to be submitted.

By tonight, the girl would be PR acceptable and he would have three terabytes of pictures to delete.

So focused on his objective was he, he barely even noticed the jogging black girl that brushed his shoulder as he passed by her. “Excuse me,” she said, with him offering a non-committal reply back.

When he rounded the corner to his car he stopped.

All four tires had been slashed.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me!” He groaned. “Fucking kids!”

The sigh of frustration as he slapped his forehead was telling as to just how much he was enjoying this day already.

He’d have to call a tow truck, call the PRT and tell them he’d be late, and call the Protectorate to make sure they didn’t let out that new Ward before he got there.

He reached to his jacket pocket, fishing for his…

Where the hell was his phone?

(X)(X)(X)

A block away Sophia Hess seemed like nothing more than a normal jogger typing a text on ‘her’ phone.

Send.

Giving a self satisfied nod, she tossed the phone into the next trash-bin.

That should keep him held under M.S. protocols for the next two days. A week if Piggy was angry enough. Which she probably was. When they found out there was no master, with all luck he’d just be fired.

Step one on making sure bug girl stays badass, complete.

Whistling a merry tune, she kept on jogging.

This was shaping up to be a great day!

(X)(X)(X)

This was shaping up to be a terrible day.

Dean Statsfield, AKA Gallant, had a secret. It was a secret very few people knew of. The only people who did know were A) His mother, and B) Himself. The buck stopped right there.

After all. What the hell kind of Hero was afraid of bugs?

It was stupid. And he’d tried to train himself to get over it.

But he just couldn’t.

It didn’t matter what it was. Spiders, scorpions, even roaches. If it crawled and had multiple limbs it turned his guts and made him want to run in the other direction. About the only thing he could deal with was a mosquito or a house-fly.

And he was set up to go on patrol with the latest Ward.

“You picked the name Skitter?” Clockblocker’s voice bounced off the walls as he made his way towards the exit.

“All other names sounded dorky.” She defended.

Dean sighed, at least she sounded nice, and not completely creepy and insane. Who knows, maybe she just got a bad hand with her powers and actually hated bugs. Maybe she wouldn’t use them all that much.

Then he rounded the corner and saw her.

The mandibles, the eyes, the insect carapace armor, the claws.

God, she was a walking nightmare.

“Oh hey, Gallant’s here” Clockblocker pointed out (The fucker!)

The girl turned, gleaming yellow eyes glowing with an unholy light.

“Oh hey! Nice to meet ya!? Ready to go?”

He could swear -- swear -- that her voice was echoing through the buzzing of the insects that flew overhead.

He shook his head… No. Stop it Dean. Stop being paranoid. It’s just your imagination.

“S-sure,” he said, nodding. “But...did the PR team clear you like this?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. He hasn’t shown up to say anything though, so I’m thinking we should just go like this. I’ll deal with him after I get back.”

Why did that sound, to him, maybe the slightest bit foreboding?

(X)(X)(X)

It was supposed to be a light patrol, Merchant territory. As low risk as it got.

He picked it himself.

The longer he didn’t have to see those bugs in action the happier he’d be.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that, during this light patrol, Vicky showed up.

“Heeeey!” His girlfriend waved, descending from the sky, smiling as she touched down on the roof.

“Vicky,” Clockblocker greeted. “The neighborhood needed the freshly shampooed hair smell. How’d you know we were here?”

She shrugged. “Was just passing through really. But I’m glad I did now I get to see the new girl.” She smirked, looking at the lanky, tall figure that stood just besides Clockblocker. “Nice work on the costume! About time the PR department’s balls dropped.”

“Thanks! Name’s Skitter!” The girl chirped.

Vicky floated closer, extending a hand. “Alright, lets make it official, name’s Victoria Dallon! New Wave’s Glory Girl! Pleasure to meet ya.”

They shook hands, and Dean got the distinct impression that Skitter was smiling.

With pleasantries exchanged, the group continued on their way.

Unfortunately, (Or fortunately depending on if your perspective was anyone but Dean’s) they did in fact find a crime in progress.

Five Merchants, drugs and money exchanging hands with slang and lingo that could have been a language in and of itself.

“Can I do it!?” Skitter was bouncing on her toes, arm raised in the air like a student at an elementary school. “Please! Oh please let me! I already know what to do!”

“We’re not supposed to let you fight on your own,” Dean put forward. Mustering his courage to at least volunteer to cover her back… her bug covered, creepy crawlie back…

“Don’t be such a stickler Gallant.” Vicky laughed. “We’re right here, we can always back her up if things go south.”

With that green light, Skitter stepped forward, making her presence known.

The bugs seemed to sprout from everywhere. Every wall, every trash bag, every dumpster, every vent and air conditioner. Clockblocker shivered, and Victoria floated up an inch off the ground. Dean completely froze.

“Shit!” One of the Merchants screamed, pointing at Skitter. “Cape!”

The Merchant closest to her looked over his shoulder and all but jumped. Reaching over and grabbing a crowbar, he turned and decided to take a swing.

Skitter ducked.

Then, Dean was offered material for his nightmares for the next twenty years.

An absolutely massive spider leapt out of her hair, grabbing onto the man’s face!

He started to scream, but was abruptly cut off before he hit the ground, writhing and twitching.

The other Merchants screamed and howled, brandishing bats, pipes, and...one was rifling around his pockets.

“Shit! Where’s the gun?!” The guy howled, looking to his friends. “Didn’t you give it to Larry?!” Another shouted back.

“Fuck!”

“Oh.” Skitter chirped. “Is this Larry?” She knelt down, rummaging through the man’s pockets and fishing out the gun.

“It is!”

She fingered the gun like one would finger a snot covered tissue, tossing it behind her. “Well if you were hoping Larry would help. He kinda won’t be able to. Ya see-” She reached down again, picking up the monstrous Shelob spider. “When this cute little guy bites you lose control of your muscles...Its also kinda painful.” She giggled-- giggled! “People have compared it to being flayed alive. He’ll be sweating, getting a fever. His blood pressure is gonna sky-rocket, he’ll wanna throw up but can’t with his muscles failing. Then there’s cramping. All those muscles lock up like steel.”

The Merchants started looking at eachother. So did the Wards and Victoria.

This...was this normal?

No. He instantly decided. No, it was not.

“Then!” She chirped again, drawing everyone’s attention. “His body temperature is gonna drop. He’ll actually start experiencing hypothermia, He’ll be dizzy with vertigo and blurred vision even while standing still. Then the convulsions start! Oh and that’s not the best part! It increases blood flow and blood pressure to sensitive areas. Especially if you’re bitten in a sensitive area like an artery… or the face!”

…

…

…

Best...part?

He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know.

In fact, he was going to fly away now. Go back to base and drag that PR guy out here to fix this! Immediatel-

“Your penis will explode!”

…

…

He was right. He didn’t want to know!

“Fuck this! I’m out!” One of the Merchants screamed and moved to run his buddies deciding to similarly get the hell out of the crazy cape’s way.

Or at least they tried.

With a snap of spider silk, their legs were tangled and all four men faceplanted into the dirt.

The hissing, snapping and buzzing of the swarm became deafening.

Don’t leave!

Ok...Ok...Its just him being paranoid. He did not just hear her voice moving through the swarm like a-

I haven’t described what all my other friends can do yet…

Then the screaming started.

...

By the time Taylor turned around, and rejoined her teammates, the only cape still present was Victoria.

“Huh? Where’d Gallant and Clock Go?” She asked, not even waiting for an answer, she continued. “I guess this was kinda boring and they just went ahead.” She looked to Vicky. “So how’d I do?”

Vicky blinked. “That...That...That was totally badass!” She laughed. “I’m never ever gonna piss you off! And you're gonna keep those bugs far away from me. But holeeee shit! When’s your next patrol!?”

Taylor beamed. “Not sure but I’ll definitely tell you when I find out.”

As the two girls wandered off, moving well out of earshot, the police finally arrived on the scene, beginning to take the Merchants into custody.

Before they left, a nearby dumpster opened up, and to the cops great surprise, Clockblocker pulled himself free of the garbage.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” He cried. “You guys gotta be careful! There’s a crazy lady with murder bugs walking around town!”

(X)(X)(X)

When Taylor made it home that night, Danny was doing the dishes, all but willing himself to be invisible.

“Hey Mom! Hey Dad!”

“Hey Honey.” Annette called out where she was sitting on the living room couch, a bright smile on her face. “How was your first day!”

He was fairly certain he could hear his wife grinding her teeth as Taylor’s answer reached them both. “It was great!”

He was fairly certain he could hear her rage hissing and boiling as her daughter continued speaking. “I made friends with Glory Girl!”

(X)(X)(X)

Elsewhere, at the same time, Carol Dallon felt her lip curl in an inexplicable sneer.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6:

Three days.

Three goddamn days.

He hated Master/Stranger protocols.

Sure, they found out he wasn’t mastered and realized his phone was missing and that activating its tracker had shown it to have been tossed in a waste bin three blocks away from his house.

But the simple fact that he had wasted three days, in which each one held the proverbial Damocles sword over his neck with the threat of the Blackmail being made public did absolutely nothing for his nerves.

Even worse was the fact that they’d set the Ward, Skitter, loose, completely unrestricted without his recommendations to reign her in.

Five times now!

His blackmailer must have been furious.

All he could hope for was that he hadn’t released those pictures yet!

Just thinking about warrant twelve- one which accounted for over seventeen million dollars in property damage caused to a rather remarkable orchard by a remarkably shitty truck was enough to make him cry tears of bitter frustration and dismay at the notion of his involvement ever becoming publicly known.

And so, the first thing he did the second he got his hands on a computer was start working on his report and recommendations to reign her in, and take away all the crap that made her so utterly effective terrifying.

Twenty-seven pages.

The girl needed a lot of work on her image.

So, feeling satisfied, James Durant saved the document, and went to print it.

Unfortunately, as he went to print, his computer pinged.

“Error: Cannot connect to Office printer XJPF31”

He tried again.

Again the computer pinged.

Standing up, he moved to step out of his office, walking to the office printer to see if it was broken, leaving his office and his computer, very very vulnerable.

He never noticed the gaseous shadow descending from the air vents directly above his office.

As he checked the printer, discovering that the thing had actually been unplugged, he, and everyone else in the building was surprised by the sharp, loud bang that went off inside his office.

Rushing to the scene, he was equal parts surprised and dismayed to see his laptop with a hole the size of a fist, flames melting what was left as they burned his desk.

“What the fuck!?”

Only moments later the PRT agents were there, putting out the flames and beginning to search the office and ask questions.

He was in the middle of answering such questions when one of the agents walked up to him. “Sir, please come with me.”

“What? Oh, yes of course,” he said, eager to help in any way he could.

It was only as they were making their way through the sub basement, that he realized something was very wrong.

“Hey. What exactly is-”

“FOAM HIM!”

The nozzles on the ceiling swiveled over towards him and the next thing Mr. Durant knew, he was covered in containment foam.

“Master/Stranger protocols will be followed. Don’t worry sir, we’ll get you help.”

It was only later that he’d find out that they found some assorted notes on how best to blow up the PRT building in his desk.

Along with several pipe bombs…

And a note to Piggot, stating that she was still a bitch, and still smelled like a sweaty jock-strap.

(X)(X)(X)

A week later, Dean was huddled together with Carlos, Chris and Dennis.

“I’m telling you, it’s her!”

“Dean, you’re being paranoid.” Carlos sighed.

“No! No I’m not. She says she’ll ‘Deal with him when I get back.’ And the next thing we know, Mr. Durant is in M.S. protocols and later today, he gets tossed in again after his office blows up!”

“She can control bugs Dean, not bombs or people.” Carlos tried to reassure.

“A roach is a bug, a daddy long legs is a bug, a fly is a bug. What she controls are murder beasts! And-”

“She’s not that bad,” Carlos interrupted.

Clock looked at him. “Those mandible darts have clearly screwed with your head! She’s goddamn terrifying. Chris- back me up here.”

Chris shuffled, all but twiddling his thumbs. “Nah...she’s not that bad…”

“Hey guys!”

Dennis, did not scream like a little girl and anyone who said otherwise was a lying liar who lies...

Taylor stood there, mask in hand, a big smile on her face as the glasses framed her eyes, completing the picture of pure innocence that was betrayed by the big, nasty Shelob spider perched on her shoulder., Vista at her side. “We’re gonna go off, and on our way back we’re gonna get something to eat. You guys want anything?”

“Fuglies?” Chris asked before standing up. “Nevermind I’ll go with you.”

“You sure?” Vista asked, smiling. “Honestly it's cool, ever since last week the boardwalk’s been pretty clean”

“What happened last week?” Clock asked.

“A lot of E-88 guys somehow developed arachnophobia.” Taylor shook her head. “Strangest thing really.”

(X)(X)(X)

“This is getting ridiculous.” Max Anders, otherwise known as Kaiser, rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing in irritation. “It’s just a goddamn Ward.”

“Bullshit!” Rune cried, not caring as Fenja, or Menja or whoever glared at her for her disrespect. “Vista, is a Ward, Clock is a Ward, the cutie Tinker is a goddamn Ward. This is a Slaughterhouse member in disguise!”

“My money’s on Bonesaw.” Someone at the back of the room put forward. “Those bugs can’t be normal! Who the hell ever heard of bugs that could burn you?”

“They’re bombardier beetles you idiot!” Stormtiger snarled. “Of course they’re normal. She’s not goddamn Bonesaw!”

Kaiser nodded. Finally. Someone with some sen-

“She’s obviously Mannequin.” Stormtiger continued, snuffing out that train of thought. “All skinny, lanky and tall, with bullshit gadgets and poison! The bugs are probably following some tinker-tech bullshit!”

“Nooo. She’s Shatterbird! She’s just painted the glass like insects! It’s not real!, you can tell by how they keep on coming even when you shoot their legs off!”

“No you idiot! She’s the Siberian.” Alabaster put forward. “She just got bored and decided to hold back a bit-”

This...was the most feared gang on the eastern seaboard.

Arguing over what member of the Slaughterhouse nine they were currently most afraid to fight.

…

That would have been fine.

Everyone should be scared of the Slaughterhouse Nine.

They should not however, be making excuses by convincing themselves that a fucking teenage bug girl, who any one of them could take with ease to spare, was on that same level!

“Enough!” He had to raise his voice to cut through the discussion. “She’s not Bonesaw, she’s not Mannequin, or Shatterbird, and she’s certainly not the Siberian! She is just one lonesome irritating Ward that got the drop on all of you! It's not going to happen again! We are going to deal with her very shortly! Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. “Now! Alabaster, Stormtiger, Rune. The three of you will keep your ears to the ground! When she comes into our territory next, you find her and make an example. Don’t kill her of course but make certain it is known that we are not to be screwed with!”

Rune raised her hand.

“What?” He bit out.

“I say-” “Fuck that” “-Soon enough she’ll head into the chink’s territory and Lung will kick her ass. He can take the bug bites! I’m allergic to bees.”

“Yeah, I’m allergic to bees too,” another member spoke up, sounds of agreement ringing out through the whole room.

“Yeah me too,” Alabaster said.

Kaiser offered him a flat, loathing look.

Alabaster seemed to notice that excuse wasn’t going to hold up. “I got arachnophobia!” He suddenly said.

“Oh yeah! Yeah I got that too.”

More murmurs of assent.

Kaiser slapped his forehead.

“You know Boss. Maybe you should deal with this one yeah?”

What are you fucking crazy? She has Japanese killer hornets!

What he actually said was.

“Yes. Because I clearly pay you so I can do my own dirty work,” he harshly responded.

And so the argument continued.

Yes.

This is the largest, most feared parahuman gang on the eastern seaboard.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7:

Emma Barnes:

Considering the insanity of the previous week, Emma had been understandably apprehensive about this week. Mildly excited...but mostly apprehensive.

But Taylor had largely seemed to calm down from her whirlwind of ideas and brainstorming, as had Aunt Annette and Uncle Danny.

So now the house was approaching a degree of normalcy again, to the point that she and Taylor were just sitting at the dining room table actually doing homework.

Nice, normal, non heart-attack inducing homework.

Taylor was even cooking! Some chickens with baked potatoes.

With a distinct lack of ‘Snowball’ anywhere in sight!

It was almost idyllic.

Now if only she could burn her Algebra books and never have to do it again she could call herself perfectly content!

…

Honestly…

Fuck algebra.

She was 90% certain she’d never ever have to know what the fuck the value of X was… EVER!

Honestly, the only reason she was trying this hard to solve the problem before Taylor got here was because Taylor had bet her she couldn’t do more than five problems before she was done preparing the food to cook. And if she did, Taylor agreed to do the rest of her math homework.

And if she didn’t, Emma was stuck writing up both english reports.

She thought she could do it.

It was just five math problems.

Taylor had played on that overconfidence...been counting on it.

The bitch!

The doorbell rang.

Taylor glanced in the direction of the door with open surprise. “Huh...I wonder who that could be…” She said, flipping the chickens around on the skillet. “Could you get that Emma?”

She blinked. “Yeah sure.”

She stood up, marching around the table to make her way towards the door, praying it wasn’t some witness to preach the merciful, wonderful nature of their lord almighty Scion.

Those conversations were just awkward.

Of course Scion wasn’t the all merciful God.

Idiots.

She reached the door, just about ready to slam it again if she saw a single pamphlet… and froze.

Like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights.

A man stood there well shaved, middle aged, smiling brightly, with a duffle bag in his hand.

This man was Jack Slash.

His beard was gone, his hair cut shorter but...yup...yup this was Jack Slash…

He looked at her curiously. “Hebert residence right?”

“T-T-Taylo-”

“Uncle Jack!” Taylor flew past her, jumping and hugging one of the most infamous, deadly and notoriously insane parahumans on the planet like it was the most natural thing in the world to do!

Ok...Ok Emma you can deal with this. No Siberian, no Bonesaw, no Crawler. He uses knives...so...Go into the kitchen and find something better than a kni-

“Surprise!” A new voice squealed, and Emma barely had time to register a mop of sun kissed yellow hair popping out of the dufflebag to throw something at her!

It landed on her face, and Emma found herself staring into multiple arachnid eyes, mandibles clicking not two inches in front of her eye.

In a sense of the purest form of deja vu Emma went from fear, to terror, to panic, pandemonium, straight through to calm and back around two or three times again before her brain decided to say “Fuckit” and vacated the premises. Deciding it was better to just get away until the insanity of the Hebert household passed by.

It wouldn’t last long. It hadn’t lasted too long last time.

The sound of her body hitting the floor snapped all three other people from their respective little worlds, turning to look at the girl with a something hugging her face as she lay and twitched on the ground.

“Emms?...Emms?”

(X)(X)(X)

When she groaned to full wakefulness it was a slow thing.

She was on Taylor’s couch, she knew that, remembered it from the familiar texture, head propped up on a pillow.

She didn’t remember settling down for a nap…

“So Danny boy- still trying to fix up those docks? Now, don’t you know a losing bet when you see one?”

“Apparently not, Jack. I bet Annie that you’d have gotten out of King’s Shadow by now.”

“Ohhh… Ohh Ow. Right in the pride! Hitting below the belt already!? Alright. Alright. Looks like I’m gonna have to step up my game this week.”

“Just making up for lost time Jack." Uncle Danny said.

“Just remember girls, you’re both pretty.”

That was Uncle Danny and Auntie’s voices. Someone else too.

Did they have a guest?

Was he nice?

She opened her eyes, groaning at the brightness.

She found a white, fuzzy ball of fluff lying on her chest.

She didn’t remember Taylor having a stuffed animal like this.

She moved her hands, gripping at it as she sat up, ready to pull it off her chest when she felt it clinging to her shirt.

Did it have velcro or something?

She tugged a little harder.

When it came away it revealed rows of grinding and snapping mandibles just below a row of bulbous, black pearly eyes that stared up at her and at least sixteen folded up crab-like legs…

Emma stared.

It stared back.

She took a breath, and looked to the kitchen.

Jack Slash, with a haircut and shaved face, just like she remembered, was looking into their oven, wearing pink, fluffy oven mitts.

She could smell cookies…

Jack Slash was baking cookies.

And her uncle and auntie weren’t dead…

There was a sound of footsteps, the pitter patter of socked feet on hardwood floors.

And then she was seeing blond hair.

“Oh! You’re awake!” The cute little girl she recognized as Bonesaw smiled at her. “Mr. Fluffykins really liked you! He didn’t wanna leave you! He didn’t even scratch you with any of the sixteen poison claws! Or the special bite I gave him! He just gave you hugs."

Emma, with a poker face that could have put the best card shark in Vegas to shame, stared blankly at the girl, then turned her eyes back to ‘Mr. Fluffykins’

The fluffy white...whatever it was seemed to look up at her, then, with mandibles and claws slowly flaring outward it let out a ‘Scree’ noise.

“It wants a hug!”

The sounds of more feet on hardwood. “Oh, hey Emms!” Taylor smiled, megawatt bright, completely oblivious to the fact that Jack Slash and Bonesaw were less than three feet away…

Her best friend brandished an overflowing notebook which Emma was certain of had been near empty the last time she saw it.

“Me and Riley have come up with some really great ideas!” She giggled. “You’re gonna love em!”

Emma took another look at the scene around her…

Slowly, ever so slowly, she hugged Mr. Fluffykins to her chest again feeling the chitinous, razor sharp legs coiling around her ribs and sides, and set herself back down on the couch, the back of her head pressed against the armrest.

“Emma. You ok?” Taylor asked in a concerned voice.

Emma nodded slowly. “Yeah...Yeah. I’m just...gonna go to sleep for now. Wake up in a bit and all will make sense again.”

“I don’t think that’s how it wor-”

“All. Will. Make. Sense. Again. TAY!” She hugged Mr. Fluffykins tighter. “G’night.”

“Don’t you want any of Uncle Jack’s famous cookies?” Tay asked.

Emma opened her eyes. “Did he use the water in this house?” She asked.

Her answer came from the kitchen, Jack himself choosing to answer.

“‘Course not! I’m not crazy!”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean, you ass!?” Her Aunt Annette screeched.

“Then yes, Taylor.” Emma answered, choosing to ignore the ensuing argument. “I would like some cookies.”

“‘Kay. G’night Emms.”

She nodded. “Of course Tay… gonna get some nice, clear headed rest for now… Wake me up when the cookies are done.”

“‘Kay. Come on Riley, let's talk about those modifications to the swarms!”

She heard the girl, Riley, talking as they walked away. “Ok, so we’ve got immunity to pesticides and electrical discharges. I think I can work in fire too, while squeezing in the stuff that’ll let em eat through steel and concrete. Oh! Do you prefer boom bombs, chemical bombs or knives? Very important question.”

“Yes.” Was Taylor’s answer.

“Going to sleep.” Emma muttered. “Not listening… going to sleep.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8:

Annette Hebert:


“So what exactly did you want us to do about it?” Jack asked, he was sitting across from her desk, black domino mask firmly over his features, hair combed to the side. He actually looked like generic hired hand number forty-two. Larry, if she recalled correctly. They were the same size and everything, right down to the shoes.

Where was Larry anyway?

Meh. Not important right now.

She glared at Jack.

“Help me figure out a way to make her stop being a hero!”

“You could always just...you know… tell her and recruit her that way.”

She let out a groan of frustration (Note: It was a high pitched dismayed whine), letting herself place her elbows on the table and cradle her cheeks with her hands.

She was not pouting.

“But that just seems mean. ‘Taylor, honey, you’re joining my organization or you’re grounded.’ Shittiest mom ever…”

“... You just don’t want it to be easy…”

“Shut uuup.” She glared. “Now, are you going to help me or not?”

“Oh, I’ll help you.” He chuckled. “No good goddaughter of mine can go about bringing order and rescuing kittens. It's just unseemly.”

“Good.” She nodded, self satisfied. “Now-”

There was a knock on the door.

With practiced, smooth ease Annette reached for her bone face-mask/plate, donning it to allow only the faintest sight of her eyes through the slanted V shaped slit.

“Enter”

“Excuse me sir.” Generic hired hand number twelve, Jimmy, spoke. “We...uh...we just got a message for a meeting at Somers Rock.

Annette was surprised.

“Oh? Who called the meeting?” She asked, standing up and moving to march out of her office.

“Everyone sir.”

(X)(X)(X)

Jack Slash Larry:

Ahh, Somer’s Rock.

He hasn’t been back there in over a decade.

He wondered if they managed to scrape the remains off the bathroom walls yet.

Probably not. The bartender wasn’t known for his hygiene.

He’d sooner drink the water in Anne’s house than risk a drink here, modifications to his liver be damned.

“So what do you think they’re callin’ the meet for boss?” One of the thugs, whose name Jack hadn’t bothered to learn yet, asked from his place at a booth. He was as big as Lung and twice as wide. Before they left, Jack caught him playing with a kitten.

“No idea,” Annette answered, flicking at her fingernails as she sat at the table. “Should be good though, Kaiser’s usually the one to ask for a meet, but Lung and… what was that other one’s name? The stupid one that makes everyone want and need a shower?”

“Skidmark, boss.” A lovely young woman answered where she sat next to him at the booth.

He appreciated the heads-up. It had been quite a few years since he’d been in the Bay.

Kaiser boy was in charge now huh? That was a surprise. Personally, he always preferred Iron Rain. Less posturing, more ‘Axe to the face’.

And he’d never even heard of Skidmark.

Finally, after another fifteen minutes or so of waiting, the other parties began to arrive.

Biggie and Lovely, his two ‘co-workers’ such as it was, stood up and flanked Annette’s side. All posturing of course. He remained seated at his booth. Counting the roaches as he spotted them.

The first to enter was, of course, not Kaiser, it was a young girl, then followed by another young woman. A pretty little thing, and another with a litany of scars and damage. Then there was a young man he didn’t recognize. He was beginning to legitimately feel old when, finally an old face he could remember from the good old days showed up. Krieg, then the infamous Hookwolf, and finally Kaiser himself, flanked by Fiji and Killi or whatever they were called, marched right in.

“Marquis.” The runt of Allfather’s litter spoke, taking his seat.

“Kaiser.” She greeted back. Her voice was artificially deepened. Some cousin or other that liked to do the same thing, with an ego three times bigger than Crawler gave her the idea.

Honestly, she was ‘cousins’ with a lot of people.

In ten years she’d be every new kid’s ‘auntie’.

In forty, if she was still in the game, she’d be every new kid’s granny (Or still auntie. Women were kinda crazy about that age thing)

He was honestly pretty sure she didn’t rule the bay just because it’d be less entertaining that way.

…

…

Fucking Blackmail.

Shortly after, the next gang showed up.

He only had to assume these were the merchants.

Annette’s description had been spot on. He felt like he needed a shower. And this from a man who frequently smelled Crawler’s cocktail of odors.

When Skidmark tried to sit down at the table, Kaiser knocked over his chair, flatly telling him he wasn’t welcome. A notion which Annette did nothing to dissuade.

Jack had to agree. He wasn’t even from Brockton Bay and he felt insulted that Skidmark pretended himself to be on the same level as Annette, at least Allfather’s runt had pedigree to his name.

Finally, the asians showed up.

Two of them anyway.

Bakuda and Oni-Lee.

“Where’s Lung?” The runt asked.

“Locked up, that’s fucking where!” Bakuda snarled, hissing as she stepped forward and took a seat, much to the protest of Skidmark. “God damn cloud of bugs came out of nowhere!”

“Wait, seriously!?” the youngest Empire girl shouted, turning in her seat to look at Bakuda. “She fucking got Lung too?!”

“She rotted his fucking dick off, yeah.” Skidmark, surprisingly, was the one that answered.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“What!?”

“How do you know that?” Bakuda asked. “I didn’t even know that until ten minutes ago!”

“There are hobo’s in every street corner bitch, and this info was worth at least two blunts. Shit kicker got a good deal.”

Jack blinked.

Huh…

That happened.

“This bitch has got to burn,” Bakuda demanded, turning away from Skidmark to get back to her business here. “We’ve got- The fuck is your problem?”

Jack turned and looked at Annette, a single gloved finger had snaked its way into her mask to wipe at her eyes.

“Nothing.” Her heavily masked voice answered. “Just got something in my eye. Please. Go on”

“Right. Whatever. Anyway we’ve got to get this shit over and done with.” Bakuda looked to Kaiser. “I know your buncha pasty white pussies are shitting bricks over this chick. I mean really, Siberian comparisons?”

Jack was instantly confused by the statement, but more so when the runt slapped his forehead and merely answered. “Jesus yes! Thank yo-”

“My money's on Mannequin.” Bakuda continued. “Only one I could see rotting Lung’s dick off. Siberian was just ridiculous.”

Kaiser placed both elbows on the table and cradled his face in his hands.

… Honestly, this was so less formal and organized than Jack remembered it.

“Look.” The white supremacist leader said through his hands. “Let’s just...make a plan to deal with this. I can’t take more of this insanity.”

“Gentlemen truly, you’re all overreacting.”

He could practically hear Annette’s smile from here.

“Rotted - Lung’’s - Dick - Off.” Rune enunciated.

“Yes yes- let's not focus on the little things shall we.” She answered, leaning back in her seat, fingers clasped over her stomach. “Now. Rather than have you all embarrass yourselves by moving out in mass force to deal with one lonely Ward and probably get your asses kicked anyway I have a much more realistic proposal.”

“Which is?” Kaiser, said from behind the hands that he was still using to cradle his face.

“I will go and deal with this Ward personally.” She said. “Teach her a lesson. Show her it's not all fun and games. Give her a scare. If I fail then I’m captured and all of my territory and revenue will be free to be cannibalized by all of you. If I succeed however I get… Hmmm. Lets say sixty percent of your money. Believe me, I’ll know if you try to short change me.”

Instantly, Jack saw his opportunity shining like a beacon.

“Sir- No.” He cried dramatically, thanking all those years of theater classes… or was it role play? He could never remember. “You’re just one Parahuman; this Ward will have backup, and she took down Lung! The odds are clearly stacked against you and we can’t afford to lose you sir!”

It was Rune that looked at him, and he picked up her incredulity and sheer disbelief at the thought that they thought this would work.

He could practically read her mind now.

“Do you think we’re that fucking stu-”

“Done!”

“WHAT!?”

“Quiet Rune.” Kaiser hissed. “The adults are talking…”

The young woman was gaping like a fish.

Jack thought it would take a little more work than that. He was already getting ready to pull out the big psychobabble guns like he did for Mannequin and Siberian.

Keeping two Simurgh victims happy was a near 24/7 job in and of itself.

…

…

Damn. He knew Allfather’s runt wanted Annette dead and buried in a shallow grave (or at least gone to a place far far away) but he didn’t think the butt hurt for all those early year ass kickings would have still been quite so sore.

Annette extended her hand.

He could feel that smile practically crawling on him.

“You make a promise to a man, you shake his hand.”

Kaiser grasped onto her hand just as Rune’s head smacked the table.

Annette and Kaiser both laughed.

Yup. He definitely preferred Iron Rain.

(X)(X)(X)

Hours later, as the moon hung over the skies of Brockton Bay, Jack slash found himself in a position he never thought he’d find himself in.

Namely, helping Annette breathe in and out of a paper bag.

“Come on what’s the big deal. It's just Taylor.”

Her mouth started going a mile a minute.

He tried to keep up. His power tried to keep up.

All n all, he was fairly proud of himself to have gotten at least the gist of the message.

Evidently Taylor inherited the motor mouth gene from Annette.

Something about being a horrible mother and how she was gonna fight her baby and how it was worse than just ‘Tough love’ and how she wanted some chocolate fudge and to hold Danny and the look on Kaiser’s face and how much money she was gonna make, or something or other.

So again, all in all, he was rather proud of himself at being able to understand at least a part of it...probably...maybe...

He opened his mouth to speak when there was a knock on the door of the van.

The paper bag went behind her back and the mask slipped on again. “Enter.”

The door slid open “Just got confirmation.” Generic hired help number 20, Bob, spoke up. “She’s out of the base with Militia and Armsmaster, starting her patrol.”

“Good.” She said in her artificially deep voice. Her patrol route should come through here in less than an hour.”

The man nodded, then closed the door and headed off.

The mask came off, aaaand the bag came back…

She breathed in once or twice… then stopped.

“Feel better?” He ventured

“No… It just registered. Miss Militia.” She paused, looking to him. “Eidetic memory Jack!”

He blinked.

Oh...right.

“That’s ok. I’ll just wear a ski mask like some of your other guys.” He said after a second.

Her eyes narrowed. “Not enough.”

(X)(X)(X)

“C'est n'importe quoi!”

French! He had to speak French!?

Honestly! The only reason he even knew the language was because he’d been trying to get Heartbreaker to listen to him. Another goddamn failed recruitment job. It ended with him waking up in Cuba with a Hawaiian sumo wrestler, a hangover that lasted for three days and another story for Annette to hang over his head like a Damocles sword.

Fucking hell he was never leaving the United States again! First Asia, now goddamn french…

Urgh…

“Stay in character Larry!” She hissed.

“Ce n'est même pas Français comme nom”

“You stole his suit.”

“Tu peux dire à Larry que son nom est putain de stupide !”

“By the way, what’d you do to him anyway?”

“Tu n'as aucune preuve!”

She straightened suddenly, slipping into character. “If you’d all be so kind, please distract Armsmaster for me for a while.

And just like that she marched off into a corner alley

Jack...or Larry straightened where he stood, the other half dozen henchmen doing so as well, all wearing black with ski masks just like him as they heard the screech of tires on asphalt.


The swarm of bugs buzzed overhead, and, looking around he could see the assortment of creepy crawlies shifting through the alleys to surround them.


With a shift of his foot he crushed the spider that had been moving to crawl up his leg. No doubt to begin that silk spinning nonsense.

Tut tut Taylor; tut tut.

Armsmaster’s bike roared across the asphalt. Halberd at the ready, Aegis flying and keeping pace above him.

Jack looked down at the comparably flimsy metal cane he and some of the others were armed with.

He looked up as Armsmaster propelled himself off his bike like a rocket went off in his ass.

Next thing he knew the power armored Tinker was in the mob and absolutely wrecking. Their. Shit.

It was over before it began really...

My leg! He heard someone cry a second before Armsmaster finally turned towards him, the shaft of the Halberd coming right to his face.

Well… couldn’t have that…

For his part, Colin didn’t even need to activate any of his predictive software or other extravagant Tinker tech devices. The thugs were barely worth his notice.

He was so confident as he swung at the last thug, with a casual indifference, his eyes were already panning the scene in search of the true threat that was The Marquis.

As such, he never saw the head of the cane coming until it cracked him across the face and busted his teeth.

Above, Aegis’ eyes nearly bugged out of his sockets as Armsmaster flopped to the ground like a dead fish.

The ski mask wearing thug looked at the cane, then looked at him and smiled. “Fabrication Allemande!” His fingers clinked on the metal as he flicked it. “Toujours la meilleure qualité!”

The Ward captain blinked. “This is Aegis, I think… I think Armsmaster just got taken down by a normal.”

Copy that Aegis Armsmaster’s taken down normal.

Aegis blinked. “No. No. Armsmaster didn’t take down the normal he got taken down by the normal…

…

…

Ward captain Aegis, please report for Master Stranger Protocols.

He reeled. “W-What!? No! I’m not mastered, Armsmaster just got taken down by a normal!”

Ward captain Aegis I am looking at all active heart rates and I can promise youuuuu--that Ward assistance is on its way along along with Velocity and Dauntless!

“Uhhh. You sure?” He asked. “It’s just a norma-”

“Don’t worry Aegis! We’re professionals! Back up is on its way! Be cautious of unknown Parahuman until backup arrives.”

As the argument/debate wore on Jack twirled his metal cane and looked to the rooftops, wishing he could see the badassery that must have been Annette’s fight with Taylor right now.

(X)(X)(X)

Safely hidden from view, The Marquis (Or Marquess as she privately called herself) took deep, calming breaths into the paper bag.

Then she shoved the bag away and slipped her mask on. “Ok! Let's do this!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 9:

“What… the hell… happened?”

The words were spoken through grit teeth, Piggot glared at each of the Protectorate and Ward heroes lined up before her.

Armsmaster was sporting a split lip, and what she suspected was a chipped tooth given the lisp of his voice

Battery was looking up at the ceiling, frowning and looking angry.

Assault, similarly, was looking as though he would murder the next person that walked in front of him by the heat in his gaze alone.

Across the table, Miss Militia’s American flag bandana did nothing to hide her smile while Skitter, the latest Ward, sulked beside Kid Win.

Just behind Piggot, on a white blackboard hung two pictures.

The first was of the well known villain, Marquis, his name written in big bold letters down below along with his power classification and known skills

The second picture was of the most generic looking thief one could get a picture of. He wasn’t remarkably tall, nor remarkably built, nor remarkably skinny. There was absolutely nothing special about this guy, even his ski mask seemed like a stupid 90’s cliche.

The only thing, that of course, stood out, was how he’d taken down Armsmaster in one hit, and then proceeded to dance around Aegis, Dauntless, Battery and then finally Assault. The last of these having caused several hundred thousand dollars worth of damages to the surrounding everything.

Under his picture there was a series of names.

‘Frenchman’

‘Little Napoleon’

'Cabron!'

'Larry'

She decided to look to the respected, notoriously efficient and no nonsense Tinker.

“Armsmaster?”

The tinker looked decidedly uncomfortable before he finally stood up, clearing his throat. “Yes...well…at approximately nine thirty seven, on our designated patrol, we found a group of criminals affiliated with the Marche, along with the supervillain, Marquis. The number has been confirmed to have been nine normal humans and two Parahumans, including Marquis.”

“He’s not a Parahuman Armsmas-”

“Two confirmed parahumans Miss Militia!” Armsmaster glared.

“Just because you got beaten by him doesn’t confirm that he’s a para-”

Mid-speech, unknown to near anyone else in the room Colin’s earpiece crackled with sudden static.

‘Colin. This is Ethan.’

The tinker started , surprised. He immediately tuned out Militia and shifted his eyes to the shaker who wasn’t even looking at him at all, as if nothing was amiss.

“Yes, This is a pre-recorded message. No, you shouldn’t react.’

How in the world did he-

‘Yes. I hacked your gear.’

But… that didn’t make any sense. The level of technical expertise-

‘Yes. I do have the level of technical expertise.’

The Tinker’s brow furrowed. How in the world did-

'How? Because I’m Madcap and villains can always pull shit like this off.'

Colin was beginning to feel worried. Should he call Master/Stranger protocols? Assault had stopped being a villain years ago. Was he going back?

“No need for that. Not Mastered. Not going back to being a villain either. I have simply run out of fucks to give.”

Now Colin was just confused.

What did that even mean?

“That means that you’re gonna help me Colin. You’re gonna help, because if you don’t. I’m gonna tell Dragon about file 34”

Instantly, Colin’s face went white as a sheet

“Shh. Shh. Its ok. This can all be averted. You just need to do one simple thing. Pay attention now...”

Colin did so.

As the recording seemed to be coming to an end, Assault...no Madcapgave him some parting words that he wasn’t sure how to feel about.

“And, since I know you’re wondering; No. I didn’t also hack that prediction software. And yes; You are this predictable.”

“-master. Armsmaster!”

He all but snapped to attention “Yes! Yes director!?”

The director raised a slender eyebrow, her frown growing more severe. “I said, do you have any software that can actively translate the frenchman. Or should I go and get one of our translators?”

Beneath the reflective visor of his helmet Armsmaster tossed a look Assault’s way. The normally jovial Hero had a completely neutral expression on his face, not a hint of his expression available in his eyes.

“I can do it Director,” he finally said.

She nodded.

Within a few seconds they were looking at multiple helmet feed recordings.

His own first.

The leader of the Protectorate ENE cleared his throat. “As you can see, the unknown Parahuman-”

“Not a Parahuman.”

“-was disguised” He continued, glaring at Militia. “-amongst the normal human criminals which allowed him the opportunity to catch me by surprise and disable me with his power.”

“Looks to me like you just took a metal cane to the face.” Battery snickered.

He made a mental note to give her the worst shift hours next month.

He switched the feed. “Now, this is from Aegis’ helmet camera.”

“What exactly is he saying?” Piggot asked.

“He is...complementing the german engineering of his cane.” the Tinker grumbled.

They watched through Aegis’ helmet feed as the Ward moved to engage, still under the completely erroneous misconception that this was a normal person.

Then, after about thirty seconds of avoiding the young man’s reaching grasp and even the splatter of a containment foam grenade, backup finally arrived.

Dauntless and Battery.

“Hey kid, got a call, said you needed some help?”

“Honestly this guy is like a greased up snake, all he does is keep on dodging.”

“We don’t have time to waste.” Battery spoke up. “Skitter and Militia are fighting Marquis right now.”

What no one in the room knew, was that while Aegis’ attention was on the two newly arrived heroes, an absolutely wicked smile curled the ‘completely normal’ human’s lips.

From there, the feed degenerated into complete mayhem, with three heroes more getting in each other’s way in their attempts to grab onto the henchman, than actually succeeding in grabbing the henchman.

It culminated with a pick-pocket maneuver that stole one of Dauntless’ containment foam grenades, and using it to foam both the hero and the Ward in a single blast.

Leaving him with just Battery to deal with.

The faux Brute, at this point was panting like a winded dog and leaning on her knees.

She’d spent up her charge, and so she still needed a few seconds to charge up, still, she threw a punch as the henchman came close. Uncharged or not, she still had quite a bit of muscle on her,

The henchman blocked her punch, grabbing onto her wrist and twirling her around in what seemed to be the beginning of some kind of arm lock.

Only for the henchman to end up on one knee, holding her hand with both of his, cane leaning on his shoulder.

"Femme à la beauté incomparable, vous méritez tellement mieux que ce que cette ville a à vous offrir. Venez avec moi et je-"

The film paused.

Piggot took a breath, but it was Battery who spoke up first.

“What did he say?”

Armsmaster looked at her, noticing Assault glaring at him, murder in his eyes, the promise of his threat being carried out if he gave the incorrect answer.

“He…” Armsmaster was never good at lying.

He gave it his very best effort.

“He uh...said that you...aren’t his type? But that he’d still settle for you if he had to.”

Battery blanched, then, fury colored her face as Assault smiled. “WHAT!?”

He shrugged.

Militia had her eyes trailed up to the ceiling. “Wait… I took french and-”

“Trust in the tinker tech Militia.”

“But I’m pretty sure that-”

“TRUST THE TINKER-TECHNOLOGY MISS MILITIA!” He shouted, making her jump.

She held her hands out. “O-Okay Okay. I guess I was wrong…”

He nodded. Satisfied.

Piggot offered him a disbelieving look.

He cleared his throat. “Might we continue?”

Wordlessly, she pressed the button.

The french henchman was staring up with a smile on his masked, face, eyes crinkled with an expression of, semi-convincing adoration, if not for the mischief in his eyes.

“What the Fuck!?”

The deft and agile henchman that had, so far, made complete fools of 4 Parahumans, didn’t even have time to register the shout before getting a fist to the jaw that sent him sprawling.

Battery’s helmet camera swiveled around and caught sight of a rather livid looking Assault standing not half a foot in front of her, fist pulling back.

“A-Assault!” Battery’s voice was, understandably shocked. “Weren’t you on the other side of town!?”

He was, or should have been, Armsmaster recalled.

“Not anymore I’m not!” He said, as if that explained everything. “My, ‘Asshole that needs the shit kicked out of him’ radar went off.”

A few minutes ago, Armsmaster would have stated that the statement was false, that there was no such thing as as a ‘Asshole that needs the shit kicked out of him’ radar.

But considering that Assault had apparently hacked into his highest level security encryption and suit system...he wasn’t so sure any more.

Just how many secrets and trump cards did the former villain have up his sleeve?

“What the hell was this shit!?” Assault continued, crossing his arms as he glared at her.

‘Uhh. Guys’

“Oh no! Don’t you take that tone with me!?” Battery shot back, completely ignoring Dauntless’ voice. “Not after that whole thing with Dominatrix!”

“I wasn’t even married to you when I dealt with that crazy bi-” He stopped, looking around for a moment before returning to her, finishing his statement in a harsh whisper. “-that crazy bitch! This is *way* over the line compared to me!”

‘Ummm. Hey guys…” Dauntless tried again.

“He grabbed *my hand* not the other way around!”

“Well I didn’t see you pushing him away either!

“Guys!”

“Why should I push him away!? Maybe I *like* french speaking people who make me feel pretty!”

“Oh so just because-”

“GUYS!”

“WHAT!?” They both roared, rounding on the foamed hero, who could still see them, unlike Aegis, who only had his legs visible from where he stuck out of the foam.

“He got up, and he’s getting away…”

Assault and Battery both turned, seeing where the henchman was currently making his way to a side alley

Seemingly sensing their eyes on him, or having heard Dauntless’ shout, the henchman turned, rubbing his jaw.

“Alright.” Assault snarled. “Hit me so I can take this guy down!”

“Don’t you act like I’ll just hit you on command you ass!”

“Oh so you’re protecting your new Boyfriend now!?”

“He’s not my boyfriend! He just flirted with me and you are blowing this way out of proportion!”

“Then why don’t you hit me so I can go and deal with this!? What, you don’t like hitting me anymore!?”

“You know what! No. I don’t! I’ll probably never like hitting you again!”

Assault, actually looked like a kicked puppy at that.

Parce qu'elle est une femme qui sait ce qu'elle veut, et ce qu'elle veut parle Français, pas stupide.

The hero found his fury again, rounding on the smug looking henchman with a snarl. “You mother fucker whatever you just said!”

Elle n'est pas encore mère Assault.

He opened his mouth to speak, then paused, seemed to think for a moment and then spoke up.

In Spanish.

“Mira cabrón, ahora ninguno de los dos vamos a saber qué carajo estamos diciendo puñeta!”

Oh, c'est de la triche!

Then, Assault was charging, and the Frenchman was running and Piggot decided to just pause it.

She didn't need to see the ensuing destruction.

She heard they were still clearing the rubble from the streets...

And a French and Spanish speaking child from European exchange student to Arcadia was still crying, utterly traumatized by the insults hurled by the two men.

That was another headache.

"What was said there?” Piggot turned to him.

Armsmaster wanted to tell the truth. He actually didn’t think this exchange would be too damaging.

But caution was always in his nature.

Best to lie.

Just to be safe.

“The first sentence was a statement about how she’d be easy to get her in his bed. The second was that it’d be Very easy and the third was complaining about Assault speaking spanish.”

Throughout his explanation Battery’s face had gone red, purple and all kinds of shades in her fury, she was now shaking in her seat,

Conversely, Assault looked positively smug.

Militia was looking at him with an eyebrow that was looking to get a penthouse apartment on her forehead.

Battery finally unclenched her jaw. “And what did Assault answer him in spanish?”

Armsmaster froze.

His instructions had covered the french. Not the spanish.

Still. No one would ever say he didn’t know how to improvise.

“He said ‘My wife is the most beautiful woman on earth, I love her and you can’t have her.”

Militia took a breath.

“STOP DOUBTING THE TINKER-TECH MILITIA!”

She jumped in her seat. “Actually, I was just gonna say that was very sweet.”

Armsmaster took a breath in relief as Battery turned and, in a rare display of public affection hugged her husband.

He vaguely caught the whisper of how she promised to hit him as hard as he wanted before he decided to just put it all out of his mind.

Piggot blinked.

“You know what.” The director finally sighed. “I’ll just...continue this conversation never.” She turned to Miss Militia and Skitter, hoping this would be simpler to deal with.

“Now, what happened with Marquis?”

“Miss Militia’s being mean!” Skitter pointed.

“It’s not mean to point out that You can’t join the evil villain organization just to get access to Bio-Tinker’s that can give you stronger bugs.”

“Why nooooot?” She complained. “Taxpayers don’t have to foot the bill, I get access to a more effective swarm; it's a win win for everyone!”

“Taylor, there’s a difference between ‘more effective swarm’ and nightmare inducing monsters.”

“But Marquis kicked my ass!”

“Marquis kicks everyone’s ass,” Militia answered. “Honestly, it's kind of an initiation. Be proud, you’re the first one that made him actually need to set the stage with traps and stuff to make that possible!”

“But that’s the thing!” She threw up her hands. “He’s made a counter to my power so now I’ve got to escalate and make a counter for his counter! It’s how things work until one of us wins!!!... Or we blow up the Bay.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m not even asking for much, I only want bugs that dissolve bone with their skin secretions! And are immune to smoke disorientation, and don’t die to electrical currents. Or fire, or-”

As she continued to speak, Piggot’s face became more and more stony.

The latest Ward, a Master, and one that controlled a vast horde of organisms had always been dangerously close to tickling her hot button memories.

She’d honestly been hoping to leave the PR department to reign her in, but of course Mr. Durant had to be suffering some...rather unusual situations the last couple of days. And it was becoming more and more tempting every day to reign her in herself.

This right here was just taking it too far.

Bio-tinkering insects to make weapons under her control?

Was this girl out of her mind?

She would have exploded if not for how many arrests they’d made in the last few months. The girl was effective and invaluable.

Carrot, she had to remind herself constantly.

Carrot. Not the stick.

“What’s so bad about that?” Skitter finally finished her rather extensive list of insect modifications as Piggot’s thoughts came to an end.

“You will not be using Bio-tinkers to make any sort of modificated insect swarms Ms. Hebert! PRT dime or not!”

Skitter sulked in her seat. ‘That you know of’

“What was that?” She hissed. Maybe she could get a cannon that fired carrots...

“Nothin’.” Skitter mumbled.

Piggot sensed she had something else to say.

She was right.

‘Hypothetically speaking-”

“Taylor, joining the evil villain organization is wrong.” Militia hedged.

“Yes! That’s why we’re working in purely hypotheticals. Really!!! Promise! Now,If I were to get some of those bugs, what’s to stop me from using em?”

“Page eighty-four of your contract.” Militia answered without missing a beat.

“What? No it doesn’t?”

“Tinker weaponry constructed by a cape, including Bio-tinker weaponry, even if purchased on own expenses or acquired through cape activities, cannot be used by a Ward or Protectorate affiliate hero without proper authorization by the director of the PRT branch.” Militia drawled out from memory.

“What?” Skitter said, dismayed. “I didn’t sign that! I don’t even remember reading that!”

(X)(X)(X)

47 days earlier:

Emma, reading page eighty four of the multitude of PRT contracts eyed a certain paragraph.

‘Why does it feel like this one is going to be very important in my near future?’

“Hey Emms,” Taylor spoke as she entered her room. “What do your pages say. Finished and signed mine. Got a few rules I wanna discuss before I commit. Do yours have any important ones?”

“Nah!” She shook her head. “This one isn’t important, just has some stuff you can’t use. You know. Guns, grenades, and things like that.”

“Oh. That’s ok then.” She smiled, leaning over and signing the page with a laugh.”Guns and grenades. Ridiculous.”

Emma smiled at her friend, having the inexplicable feeling that a crisis of biblical proportions had been averted.

“Using those things just wouldn’t be fair,” Taylor laughed.

(X)(X)(X)

”Well, regardless, you did sign it.” Militia shrugged. “So no. Even if you did get your hands on those bugs, it wouldn’t really help you much. You’d never get to use them.”

“You’re mean,” She declared, going back to sulking, Kid win rubbing her back.

Piggot sighed, rubbing her head before glaring at Kid win. “Why are you even here? You barely even got to the fight before it was over!”

Kid shrugged. “Moral support?”

(X)(X)(X)

“I’m never coming back here again! Urgh...how the hell did he even land that many hits on me?”

“You shouldn’t have flirted with his wife,” Annette sagely answered, sipping on a cup of tea. “Remember what Danny did to that other guy? What was his name...Bradley Meadow or something?

Jack shuddered.

Right…

He’d tried to forget about that.

He actually did forget about that...

He supposed a few bruised ribs were a good thing in comparison to Daniel Hebert.

“How’d it go with Taylor anyway?”

“It went well I think.” She smiled. “After I set off the gas clouds, and the napalm, and used the sonic emitters from Toybox and Electric nets to kill off her swarm, oh, and beat Miss Militia by teaching her how a fencer beats a trench knife any day of the week, we sat down and had a nice chat. The promise of superbugs to use at her leisure really caught her eye.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

Of course that would be the incentive.

“Oh but I think she was kinda bummed by the whole, dead swarm thing. You think I should give her some human bot-flies to make up for it?”

Jack stared at her…

He wondered if it was too late to go out of state and come back with about twenty gallons of fresh, clean water.

“By the way.” He decided to change the subject quickly! “I think that Kid Win has a crush on Taylor.”

With a spit-take, Annette coughed, choking on her drink. “Wh-Wha-*Cough* What!?”

Jack nodded. “So I guess that puts a wrinkle on that whole ‘Bring her over to villainy’ idea of yours huh?”

“I guess. I mean, Tinkers are expensive.”

Jack blinked. “Wait...What?”

“Well I can’t just leave my daughter’s potential boyfriend as a Hero.” She brought her hand up to her chin. “Although, I could always bring in Taylor and then have her bring in Kid on her own, if she’s interested. Never too early to get started on the Femme Fatale role.”

“You were never anyone’s Femme fatale.” He pointed out.

“Of course I was. Danny was a good, christian boy before I brought him over to the fun-side.”

“...That’s not how it-”

“Shhhhh.” She held up her finger, eyes closed with a strange little smile on her face. “Ohhh and how much fun the fun-side process was.” She giggled.

Jack pressed a palm to his forehead.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10:

James Durant:

This was it.

Today was the day.

After nearly a straight four months of trying and trying and trying and trying and trying to submit the godforsaken PR documents that kept on getting increasingly longer as the file on Skitter kept on getting upgraded to account for more crap she was pulling, James Durant had had enough.

Today was going to be the day he delivered this report.

At first it had just been his work laptop.

Then his home computer had been destroyed.

Then, after he'd written it in a public library he'd lost his USB.

Then, when he'd been writing it again in a cyber cafe, the computer had just turned off. Its cord pulled.

Then, when he finally went OUT OF TOWN to have it written and printed, he'd lost the papers before he'd even made it into the building.

Then his tires had been slashed AGAIN, not letting him go out of town, and so he'd lost the paperwork AGAIN.

And so it had occurred over… and over… and over again. SOMETHING kept going wrong!

This HAD to end...

It didn't matter that the blackmail had already been published. It didn't matter that he was being indicted and that his job, livelihood and future were at stake. It didn't matter that he really didn't have any standing to be doing this anymore.

Nooooo. No. This shit… This was personal now!

That Ward was going to be PR friendly if it fucking killed him!

She wasn't going to WIN! He wasn't going to let her WIN!

But he'd prepared. Sent out at least fifteen different schedules. Backed up the data in three different servers plus his personal USB that was around his neck. He'd printed the pages four times! One of them was in his safety deposit box, to be delivered by the end of the week no matter what happened today, two others were on their way to Legend and Chief Director Costa Brown!

The last was here… right here with him.

He'd paid an arm and a leg for this secure lockbox that was now strapped to his wrist.

But it would get the papers to Piggot's desk!

That's all that mattered!

He took the express elevator! Only Wards and Protectorate personnel had access but he knew how to pickpocket thanks to those Asian warrants!

Hah!

He stepped into the elevator and was surprised to find someone present.

"Ahh, Stalker."

Sophia blinked. "The hell are you doing here?"

He stepped into the elevator. "Giving these papers to Piggot!" He said, stepping into the elevator.

The button for the top floor was already pressed.

Waiting beside the Ward, he listened to the elevator music, strongbox hanging from his wrist.

…

The door chimed as it opened and he waved at the Ward as he stepped off, a fresh spring in his step now, so close to his goal.

As the door closed he never noticed the Ward leafing through a docket of pages and twirling a USB between her fingers.

He opened Piggot's office, finding the sour woman on the phone, glaring at him for his interruption.

"What are you-"

He set the Lockbox down, clicking the locks open he swiveled it around to face her without a word.

Piggot looked at it. "It's a very nice box."

He growled. "Take the pages! Read them. Its seventy three pages worth of recommendations regarding Skit-"

"What pages?"

…

He looked down.

He looked down at his empty...empty box.

"No…." He swiveled it around, looking inside and touching its surface. "No… No no...N-USB… I have-"

His fingers grasped nothing but the shirt over his chest. "USB! Where's my USB!"

"I'll call you back." He heard Piggot say.

They got the USB… they got the pages! What else did they get! How could they have known! How much did they-

"I'm gonna need Master Stranger protocols on-"

He swiveled around, pointing at the fat blond woman! "No! Don't you fucking dare you fat bitch I'm not mastered! I am PERFECTLY ALRIGHT DO YOU HEAR ME! HELP ME FIND THESE PAGES! HELP ME GET THIS SHIT UNDER CONTROL!"

The doors slammed open PRT agents moving in. "It's OK Jimmy. Calm down. We'll get you some help!"

"IT'S A CONSPIRACY! IT'S ALL A CONSPIRACY! YOU'RE ALL IN ON I- NO! NO YOU GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! GET YOUR HANDS-"

Emma Barnes:

"Kate Beckinsale here with some shocking news. Apparently an unknown Parahuman infiltrated and attacked the PRT Headquarters earlier today. More on this developing story at Five O'clock-"

The milkshake slurped loudly as Emma's straw sucked the cup dry. Watching the news report as she stood on the side of the road.

"Huh. Wonder what that was all about." She mused to herself.

She was standing on the boardwalk, watching the people coming and going as she waited for Taylor to get off of patrol.

Should be any minute now.

"Hey Emms!"

She smiled, turning around. "Hey Taaaaa-"

The greeting died in her throat.

Skitter was standing in front of her, and before Emma could fully process this fact, Taylor leaned forward. "Here ya go, put this on!"

A ball-cap was stuffed over her head and a thick pair of sunglasses placed over her eyes.

"Ta-What the hell is wrong with you!" She hissed! Staring at her childhood friend. "If someone recognizes me they'll recognize you too!"

"That's what the hat and sunglasses are for, you silly."

She grabbed her hand pulling her along the Boardwalk to an ice cream shop.

"T-Skitter! Damnit! Stop. How many other red headed girls of my age know a girl of your height and hair!?"

"Three. I counted."

"What!?"

"Just kidding." Taylor laughed. "Don't worry, no one will notice you, I promise!"

(X)(X)(X)

Taylor was right.

No one did notice her.

It was rather difficult to notice little old Emma Barnes with big sunglasses and a ridiculous ballcap when she was sitting next to the newest, most terrifying Ward, and Glory Girl.

Now that the relative insanity of the start of this lunch date had passed her by, Emma was allowed to notice other things.

Namely Taylor.

She literally couldn't remember a time before Taylor. As such, she knew the dark haired girl about as well as anyone.

So she knew when something was up.

And something was definitely up.

Besides of course, the recent bout of insanity.

Noooo… Emma's girl senses were tingling…

That feeling was growing.

The conversation cycled, going from cape activities that she didn't have a lot of input onto other subjects that she did, like fashion.

She owned Glory Girl in that subject. That was her story and she was sticking to it!

And then around again to other things.

All the while that feeling was growing.

When the subject finally shifted around to boys and potential catches the feeling was screaming at her.

Mid talk, she held up a single finger, stopping Glory Girl's appraisal of another specimen of the male species. Her eyes were narrowed behind her glasses. If the dark lenses would have allowed them to be seen, one would have noticed the predatory glint in her eyes as she swiveled around to look at Taylor.

"Ok, enough. Spill."

"Oh thank god! I thought I was the only one who noticed!" Victoria cried, her smile splitting her face as she turned to Taylor.

Unlike Emma, the glint in her eyes was completely exposed.

Taylor shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Uhh...spill what? Are you two ok?"

"She's evading," Vicky said.

"Foolish to try," Emma agreed.

Vicky nodded.

Taylor fidgeted. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Skitter. I've known you since we were little girls." She warned. "I know all the signs of you trying to hide something.

"No you do-"

"You're twiddling your thumbs under the table right now."

Hands came up to rest on the table. "N-No!"

"Your leg is shifting up and down."

The near imperceptible noise of Taylor's heel 'Tap-tap-tapping' on the ground ceased.

"Now, since you're not twiddling your thumbs or shifting your leg you're about to run a hand through your hair."

The arm that had been just about to rise stopped and fell back to the table.

"And now you're biting your lip."

"Sh-Shut up!"

Emma grinned.

"Come on Skits. Spill the beans. Who's the guy!"

"What makes you think it's a guy!?"

Emma grinned. "So a girl then?"

"Wh-Wha…"She looked between the two girls. "Why do I feel like you're ganging up on me?'

"We're not/We are." Vicky and Emma respectively answered.

Despite their opposite answers, both girls wore identical grins.

Taylor found her navel to be most interesting.

"Come on Skitter. What's going on?" Emma pressed.

"Kidwinaskedmeoutonadate."

...

Emma and Victoria squealed!

An innocent bystander would later swear the ringing in his ears didn't leave for a week.

The other patrons insisted it was a month.

"We've got to get you to the mall! Your wardrobe needs an upgrade!"

"I've got to show you how to apply Mascara! No more putting it off!

"Skirts to show off the legs or tight jeans to really accentuate their shape?"

"Dark hair, pale complexion, I'm thinking red, and darker colors would work really well for you. Definitely solids colors though, nothing that changes, definitely no stripes. Urgh."

"Oh! Heels! We need to get heels!"

"Yes! Oh god yes! Oh but wait! Maybe she'll be taller than him. Some guys don't like that!"

"She's taller than everyone! You don't try to hide that you work it!"

"Very true!"

And the girls were off! Taylor could almost see the monstrous engines that were behind their focus and intelligence burning to life after having been shut off for so long.

Taylor suddenly felt very, very afraid.

Right on time, her phone rang.

"Oh! Would you look at that! Glory Girl! Your mom is fighting M-Marquis downtown! We should go deal with that!"

"Nah we're fine! We gotta get to the mall!"

With a slap of cash that materialized from seemingly nowhere, Victoria had paid their bill, plus tip. Exact change too…

"But...But...Villainy... mom might need help!" Taylor pleaded as Vicky and Emma grabbed onto her wrists.

"It's ok!" Vicky insisted. "They do this every week! I'll ask mom how it went tonight! She'll understand! This is more important!"

"Ahh- Emms, Emms tell her it's not that impor-"

As she turned to her best friend Taylor's words died in her throat.

"Emms...are you ok?"

"I'm great Tay!"

"Emms… Your smile's scaring me…"

"That's just how happy I am sweetie!"

That...wasn't very reassuring…

Chapter Text

Chapter 11:

Daniel Hebert:

"That bitch!"

Daniel Hebert braced himself as his wife entered their home like a tornado, looking furious with a sneer that could rival a pissed off Alexandria.

Is it Tuesday already?

"Brandish I take it?"

"Who else!? That bitch!"

Yup. Tuesday.

He leaned back in his seat. Looking at his lovely wife. "So how was your day?"

"She comes swooping into my stash house like it's no one's business and starts telling me that I need to get my daughter under control and that she's a bad influence on Vicky! Hah! Taylor! A bad influence on Miss Excessive Force!? My little girl doesn't go nearly that overboard!"

Daniel took a breath, the last several news articles he'd been reading on the front page since… oh. Maybe three weeks before Taylor told them about her powers begged to differ.

So did Emma.

"Did you know Brandish's 'Little blond angel' broke my ribs? My ribs!? I mean, I kicked her ass so hard she hasn't had the guts to come at me since but still Daniel it's the principle of the thing! My little girl isn't a bad influence! The nerve of that Bitch! Vicky's the bad influence here!"

He sighed, smiling. "Honey come on. Neither girl is a bad influence on each other. They're just teenagers."

"No Daniel! I know what I'm talking about! You mark my words-"

"Honey." He laughed, standing up and moving to hug Annette. "Come on. You're overreacting! Vicky's a perfectly nice girl and you know we've been urging Taylor to make some more friends and be more outgoing"

"I guess…" She pouted. "But seriously if she ever comes at me with that crock about Taylor being a bad influence I'm breaking something!"

"I'll even help you," he promised. "Now, if Taylor starts talking to you about Vicky this anger really won't help anything, ok?"

"Yeah, ok."

Just then, the door opened, admitting a beaming Emma and a dazed looking Taylor into the house.

"Hey Uncle! Auntie!" She smiled "You'll never believe what happened! We went to the mall today with Vicky! Shopping spree! And she got Taylor this fantastic looking mini-skirt!"

Danny's mind came to a screeching, grinding halt.

'Wait wha?'

"It is just the cutest thing!" Emma beamed, reaching into a bag and taking out-

UNACCEPTABLE!

Annette was right. Victoria Dallon was a horrible influence!

This had to be ended! Nipped in the bud now before-

"Oh! If you combine that with some skin tight shorts that would just look fabulous." Annette gushed.

Once again, Daniel's mind came to a crashing, screeching halt...

Wait...what?

"I know! Oh and you won't believe the deals we got on these shirts that show off her belly-"

"Ahh One second girls I need to talk to Annette for a moment!" Danny cried, dragging his bemused wife into the hallway and out of earshot.

"Danny baby what's-"

"You were right!" He cried. "You were right Victoria is a terrible influence and this has to end!"

"What? Honey No. I mean, do you realize what a pain in the ass it is to get Taylor into the mall! I mean, a Brute is just what we needed to force her into buying clothes with Emma and you are brilliant for seeing that before I did."

"Wha-No I-" She kissed him, interrupting his protest. "Honey, this-"

"By the way, where's Jack?"

That brought Daniel up short.

"What do you mean where's Jack?" He asked. "Jack was with you. He was minion...something something Larry right?"

"Well yes, but after Brandish showed up, well I had to kick her ass but Flashbang was there and you know he's a handful all on his own so I sent 'Larry' to go deal with it. He should have been back by now."

Daniel shook his head, lips going downward into an exaggerated frown. "Ya got me. He hasn't come back yet. Riley's been entertaining herself though."

"Hmm… strange."

(X)(X)(X)

Elsewhere:

"Hey, mom!" Vicky called "Where's dad?"

"What do you mean where's dad!?"

"I mean where's dad!?"

"He's not in his room?"

"Nope!"

(X)(X)(X)

Annette shrugged. "Meh. It'll work out. So anyway, what do you mean Riley's been entertaining herself."

"She went to the basement. Hasn't come out other than to go to the bathroom and get something to eat."

"When was this?"

"'Bout an hour ago. Don't worry, I made sure she ate the food, not do...something else with it."

"Good, Do you have any idea what exactly she's doing down there?"

"Testing the water or something." He shrugged.

Just then, the door was all but snapped off its hinges, Riley emerged, covered in soot, ash and...stuff.

Also, Mr. Fluffikins was on her head, looking quite content.

She was also smiling.

"Taylor!" She screamed, beaming. "I did it! It's perfect!"

Danny heard his daughter's footsteps. "Com-Ow!"

"Oh no you're not!" Emma snarled."You are coming up the stairs with me and we are organizing that abomination you call a closet!"

"But Emma!"

"Don't you 'But Emma' me!" She hissed.

"But I worked so hard…" Riley bemoaned.

"Help us fix the closet, and Taylor and I will be done that much faster."

…

…

"Can Mr. Fluffikins help?"

"...Fine!" Emma sighed. "Mr. Fluffykins can-AHH!"

"Yay! Oh. He likes you!"

Daniel blinked, looking to the still open door and marching towards it.

"Danny- what are you doing?" Annette asked.

Danny looked to his wife. "Huh. What do you mean? Aren't you curious?"

"Well… Yeah but I'm not gonna spoil the counter she came up with for my counter. That would just be cheating and unfair!"

Danny blinked.

He opened his mouth when Annette shook her hands. "No no no. Don't say a word. I'll just go get dinner started!"

Daniel got a kiss on the cheek as his wife walked away.

Marching over towards the basement door he peered inside.

…

…

The door creaked as he shut it… very very slowly.

Nope.

"You're gonna love it Taylor." He heard Riley cry as they marched up the stairs. "It's huggable!"

Daniel paused, taking another look into his basement

…

…

*Screeeee!*

The door creaked as he shut it...very very slowly.

Nope.

He was just gonna go back to his paper now. At the table.

Yup… his nice normal paper.

Nothing to see here.

"By the way girls, what got you all to decide to go shopping today!?" Annette called from the kitchen. "Not that I'm complaining but getting Taylor anywhere near a clothing store is a feat for the ages."

"Moooom!"

"Taylor's got a date!"

Daniel Hebert's paper ceased to exist…

He stood up, and marched towards the basement door, opening it again.

He tilted his head this way….tilted his head that way.

"Riley!" He called.

"Yes?"

"Could you come down here? I have some...suggestions…"

"Coming!"

(X)(X)(X)

The following morning-

Emma Barnes:

"Why did you make me organize the whole closet if you were just gonna destroy it"

"It's not destroyed!" She insisted.

"Emma. My clothes are all over my room."

"As they should be. How can we possibly decide what we're going to wear unless we can see them all at once?"

"By-"

"Shhhhh," Emma insisted, finger pressing to Taylor's lips. "Obey your elders."

"You're a month and a half younger than me!"

"I can fix that!" Riley piped up from where she was half buried under Taylor's old clothes.

"By making me older or making Taylor younger?" She asked.

"Yes."

Emma nodded...then blanched.

Oh god… Had she drank the water without noticing? Was it affecting her? She was showering with it! Was that how it spread?

She was talking to Bonesaw like it was nothing! What the hell was wrong with her!

She had to get out of this house! Get back to normalcy…

…

…

After she helped her bestie decide on an outfit!

Suddenly, a loud BOOM sound, was heard off in the distance!

The three girls looked at each other.

Taylor was the first to react, leaning over her desk to open the blinds of her window.

Smoke.

There was smoke rising from downtown.

Huh...Wonder what-

BOOM

And...more smoke...explosions.

Emma shook her head.

No… No no no.

Taylor's phone, her Ward phone rang.

NO!

Taylor answered. "This is Skitter."

"She's busy!" Emma screamed. "And so is Kid Win!"

"Emma," Taylor hissed. "This is an emergency!"

"I KNOW! You are not cancelling your first date! Not after I worked so hard, do you understand me!"

"Sorry Emma I gotta go, but so is Kid. So it's ok. Its part of the job."

She was already grabbing that goddamn backpack!

Emma snatched the phone out of her hand. "Now you listen to me you son of a bitch! My name is Emma Barnes let me speak to your supervisor right no-The Youth Guard is the least of your goddamn problems! No! Your problem is a pissed off red head with anger, and Daddy issues as the smallest of her mental hangups! Now you listen and you listen we-Don't you put me on hold! Don't you fucking put me on hold! I swear to god you put me on hold and I will reach through this phone, rip out your goddamn eyes and feed them to you! Damn right I'm a Parahuman that can do that! My cape name's 'Choke a Bitch' Nice to fuckin meet ya! Put me on hold. I dare you! I double dare you motherfucker put me on hold so you can see what the inside of your stomach looks like you miserable son of a bi-

Riley's wide eyes were glued to the furious red headed girl who seemed to be spewing death rays from her eyes and entropic curses from her lips.

She wanted to chastise her for the language but some things you just didn't do if you liked your bodily functions intact.

I mean… she could fix it but it'd still probably be painful.

Maybe she should offer the girl some water…

Well...she'd tested it. It was probably safe… it had only melted her first two test tubes...

Meanwhile as Emma screeched into the phone Taylor quietly made her way out...of the second story window.

Emma was by the door after all.

Downstairs:

Danny and Annette were in their dining room. Looking out the front window as they had their morning coffee.

"Sooo… What's going on?"

Annette shrugged "Beats me."

"Sooo… You gonna take advantage?"

"Oh, maliciously."

Just then, Taylor fell into the bushes in front of their window.

"Ooph. Hi mom Hi Dad!" She waved, smiling at them as she pulled herself free of the bushes and made her way down the road.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12:

The Protectorate heroine, Battery, woke up this morning thinking things might actually go well.

What a stupid fucking thought that had been.

You think she would have learned her lesson after living in Brockton Bay for so long.

The natural consequences of optimism in this place is life deciding to ram its steel-toed boot hard into your general pelvic area, sometimes repeatedly, and then laughing as you tried to figure out where the day had gone so wrong.

Apparently, a great many people had woken up optimistic in the past few days or so and life decided that it, and it's steel-toed feet had neglected its old punching bag, Brockton Bay for long enough.

So now, here she was, running search and rescue through the city as bombs went off everywhere. Anything from shards of ice, to black holes, to napalm and even sticky bombs were going off.

What concerned her the most however, was that she couldn't get ahold of Ethan. Her husband had gotten a late shift last night but this morning she hadn't seen him. She figured he'd slept on base, being too tired to catch the bus to get back home or something if he missed it, so she hadn't been too concerned. But on arriving at the base and finding out he wasn't there, calling his cell-phone and not getting an answer, and checking in with her neighbors to see if he'd gotten back while she was on her way here and getting no results, and now with bombs going off everywhere- she was understandably worried.

And the problem was she couldn't even think on it or let that distract her. She had to stay focused and work on rescuing people. She had to be 'Battery' right now, not 'Puppy'.

She felt the truck come to a stop, her weight shifting from one side to the other before she and three other agents stepped out of the rear compartment.

Right into the front courtyard of Pembroke Pines old-folks home.

She blanched.

Bakuda had bombed an old folks home!?

She looked around, finding no smoke or fire alarms. It must have been one of her more exotic bombs.

"Alright," she said before looking at the two agents behind her. "Work as if you think there's another bomb somewhere in here, check your corners and use your scanners."

The two men nodded, with the taller of the two answering. "Understood ma'am. Should we remove the Parahuman from the facility quickly or proceed with more caution."

She was brought up short.

"Come again?"

The man blinked. "The...uhhh. Parahuman ma'am" We were called in for a fresh trigger."

She stared, slackjawed. "A… A Trigger… The city is blowing up and I was called in for a trigger?"

The man shrugged. "I thought it was weird too. Figured you knew something we didn't about the power that would need a Brute rated cape ma'am."

"No!" She shouted, the sound of her voice compounded by another explosion off in the distance. She pointed at the pillars of smoke "That's where I'm supposed to be!"

"Shit…" The man said. "Did you get in the wrong truck?"

"Think she got in the wrong truck" the other agent said.

"The wrong truck…" She repeated. "The wrong truck."

"Seems like it ma'am."

She let that sink in a moment.

Finally, the agent spoke.

"Well...we're already here, wanna go find out who triggered here and with what?

She shook her head. "Fine. But unless they're gonna burn down the whole damn building we leave and come back to deal with it after we've dealt with Bakuda. I'll handle the paperwork."

"Got it ma'am."

They marched into the building.

(X)(X)(X)

"You can't leave him here!" The nurse cried. "He's gonna burn down the whole building."

"It's ok." The old man, who was currently on fire from head to toe cried out from inside the flames, sitting amidst the burning ruins of his room.

The bed, the furniture, and the carpet were all on fire. Even the ceiling fan spun lazily, half melted with a tongue of flame dutifully clinging to the remains of a wooden blade as it spun about.

The only reason it hadn't spread further was because there were three nurses all of whom had a readily available supply of fire extinguishers surrounding him.

That, and the old man had been remarkably cooperative

There was another explosion off in the distance.

Battery winced at how loud it was. "Look. As you can see there's a very very big emergency. "Just...put him out in a concrete yard or something for now and we'll be back once we deal with what's happening."

"He'll scare the other patients!"

"Benny?"

Battery and the nurse had their attention drawn to the big, pane glass window on the far wall, where they saw a old black man on a motorized wheelchair. He was peering into the window with a look of confusion on his face before he smiled, raising two thumbs. "Lookin good you old bastard. You're on fire! Haha!"

Battery turned to the nurse with a deadpan stare. "Yes. Clearly."

The nurse slapped her forehead. "Look… He's on fire! That can't be healthy!"

"I feel fine!" Benny happily announced, waving before another nurse let out a quick burst from the extinguisher beside him.

"Benny." The nurse bemoaned. "You feel fine. I'm getting early grays here!" She turned to Battery, pleading with the heroine. "Look. I just got this job like a month ago. I can't afford to lose it!

"Look lady, there's an emergency! Considering the city is blowing up I'm sure your boss will understand if we can't spend the time right now- we'll come back and pick him up as soon as it's resolved!"

"But- Can't you put him in your truck and just drive?"

"I don't want to go in the truck. I want to go to the bathroom."

The nurse paled.

Battery pointed to the door, looking to solve one problem at least. "Bathroom's right there."

"He can't go alone." The nurse groaned, hand to her forehead. "A nurse usually assists him."

Battery threw up her hands. "Of course. Why in the world would one thing go right today?"

"Well it could be that this is a good thing," one of the PRT agents said behind her. "Could be he'd blow up the bathroom if he tried right now.

…

"Hah! I get it!"

Battery smacked her forehead.

Suddenly, her phone rang.

It was unprofessional, downright stupid considering Masters and Strangers and thinkers are a very real thing, but she answered it. Stepping away.

"Where have you been?" She hissed, just barely refraining from saying that she'd been worried sick. "The whole city is going to hell, are you ok so far?"

Her next question was 'Where are you' and it was riiiight on the tip of her tongue when she heard the voice on the other end answer her.

Correction slurred at her…

"Babe- Babe Babe...Babe"

…

The feeling that gripped her...was beyond description. It's something so far removed from anger, so transcendent that it doesn't even have a word in any language.

Hell, the first coherent thought she can remember having was how they would never have children together as a result of his imminent castration.

And that was the nicest thing she could remember thinking.

"Are you drunk right now?"

Her voice is calm. So eerily darkly calm that she herself doesn't recognize it.

"So help me God do not tell me that you're drunk," she implored. "I cannot be held responsible for what I do. No court will convict me. Tell me you are not drunk right now and don't you lie to me."

"I- I am I'm not shober. That forks 'ight?

"No…" She answered. "No it doesn't."

"Oh...well...Shhh don tell m puppy wife."

"I am your wife."

"Oh. Well I won't tell yu. Tha-That's ok righ?"

She was going to kill him. Kill him and not see a single day in prison. She knew how to get away with it.

"Babe...You don undershand. I love you sooooo much more righ nw, Puppy. I've been with thes guyz. Been wit the guys all night, talkin, bout stuff, and women, and wives and. Oh. I think one isn't married. But after listening about the women in their lives- I lub yu shooo much! Other women are violent… and crazy! Crazy-violent!

It'd be easy. The only one that could tell she was lying was Armsmaster, but she was sure she could sabotage that gear somewhere, or get Marquis to sell her some blackmail to shut him up.

"-you are sooooo much better! You're nicer, less crazy kinder and a lot prettier."

Maybe bury him in the back-yard. No no too close. Susan's back yard, she never liked her anyway, always making eyes at her husband.

Babe...I gotta guy. These guys need someone responsible to make sure they do stupid things. I'll talk to you latter. I luv you Puppy!

She heard the click of the phone being hung up as she contemplated the most painful possible murder weapon.

"Can I go to the bathroom now?"

…

...

Perhaps a Wood drill bit. Attached to a drill.

(X)(X)(X)

Bakuda was a bitch.

She could admit that. She could afford to be a bitch because she had more brains in her little finger than half this city put together.

But there was a world of difference between admitting to being a bitch and being accused of being a mass murderer...prematurely.

After all, her bombing spree hadn't been scheduled til next week. She hadn't even gotten her first bomb brain surgery vict-Patient!

That's right. They were patients. That's the word the books said to use in college.

So yes. Here she was, tossing bombs from a grenade launcher left and right as one of her compatriots drove a big truck through the city in an attempt to shake off the pursuit of Armsmaster, Velocity, and Miss Militia, all for something she wasn't even responsible for!

Just because she was a Tinker bomb maker, and just because she'd planted around half of these bombs around the city in preparation to actually set them off didn't make her guilty.

The nerve of these people!

She supposed it was too much to hope for that rubes would do some actual fact checking before jumping the gun. Such was the curse of short sighted stupidity.

Honestly, all they had to do was hold still long enough to get caught in a blast. Maybe the arm, or the leg, and she could calmly explain her innocence as they were writhing on the ground about to go into shock from sudden dismemberment.

Then she could go and hunt down whatever bastard had decided to set off her bombs early. If she was feeling magnanimous she might even let them help.

Sadly, they weren't cooperating.

So them helping was probably out of the question.

"Bakuda," Halbeard shouts over a loudspeaker he probably crammed up his ass to replace his voice-box. "Pull over the vehicle and surrender yourself to PRT custody, or we will be forced to take drastic action."

She thinks about shooting off another volley of grenades as an answer when a thought occurs to her.

She reaches over towards her own loudspeaker, neatly placed on the ground besides her duffle bag full of exploding toys.

Poking out of the sunroof she shouts back at him. "Has that ever actually worked?"

She laughs, ready to slink back into the car and trade out the loudspeaker for her grenade launcher again, when the man actually answered her.

"On three separate occasions."

She halts, mid movement, looks and blinks. "Seriously?"

"Yes. The recorded dates and times are-"

"No you idiot! I'm not asking you to fact check! I was commenting on the fact that you freaking answered!"

"You asked a question." Was his droll response.

"A rhetorical question!"

"That was never specified."

"IT'S OBVIOUS!" The loudspeaker actually lets out a squeal at the volume of her voice, she winces and decides that this moron doesn't deserve to even breathe the same oxygen as her!

She tosses the loudspeaker down, reaches to her feet for the grenade launcher, pulls it and begins firing off her special incendiaries!

She'd been saving them for that creepy Ward chick with the bugs. It was basically liquid fire that splattered over everything and kept spreading like containment foam. She'd like to see those swarms get through that!

Still, the bug girl wasn't here and she could always make more after she got away from these losers.

"Uhh...Boss."

She ignores the driver in favor of shooting off her grenades and watching the whole street go up in flames!

She's laughing, and almost feels like pulling herself out of the sunroof to stand on the actual roof itself but decides against it. She didn't need to show off that much.

Maybe she'll do it when she finishes making all those armor-piercing, explosive, poisonous mini-gun rounds. And buys an actual mini-gun.

"Uhhh… BOSS!"

She points at Miss Militia, who is apparently a much better driver than Armsmaster seeing as how she was closer than she'd been before, even though Armsmaster was overcompensating with that monster bike.

She's about to pull the trigger when she feels the idiot in the car tapping her leg.

"What!" She snarls rounding to look, only to see him pointing ahead. "Seriously! What the fuck is so hard about driving the goddamn-"

When she looked up, she saw the bugs.

A whole swarm of them rushing up the street, like a biblical plague.

Oh hell.

She moved to duck, struggling with the grenade launcher in her rush, she gets a faceful of bugs splattering against her gas mask for her efforts before she finally ducks in. "Close the sunroof!" She demands, even so a veritable rainforest worth of insects is swarming in the car. Nothing that seems poisonous, just highly distracting.

"Oh shit! Ohhh shit!" The driver is nearly hyperventilating.

"Calm down!" She says as the bugs begin splattering against the front of the car. "I prepared for this bitch. Now that you've closed the sunroof even jesus couldn't get her bugs in here."

"Really?" He asked. "What did you do?"

"Reinforced windshield, sealed off exterior entry-points, rehauled the air conditioning and exhaust system, reinforced the panels that protect wires and electronics to seal em off. Yup, this is the safest place to be in a Skitter storm. Took me three fucking days but I did it!"

"Oh. That's a goddamn relief!" He cried, wiping at the air with his arm, probably catching one or two more bugs.

"Keep going," She said. "She has limited range and bugs can't move at sixty miles per hour so haul a-"

The rather sudden brick wall that decided to introduce itself to their front bumper disagreed with her assessment.

The fact that she didn't have a seat-belt didn't help.

With a fantastic crash that felt as though she'd never get out of her ringing ears she lurched forward in her seat, grenade launcher between herself and the airbag as it exploded, crashing the thing into her ribs and probably dislocating her wrists.

She was launched back into her seat...in a great...great deal of pain.

Her head swam...confused and finding it hard to think.

The front windshield had shattered.

…

…

Three fucking days...Didn't even last three minutes…

Fucking bullshit…

…

Ok…

Just gotta think.

What could she do…

Incendiary, time stop, freeze, singularity, flesh eating poison, turning someone into goo, Pain grenade regular old boom, sonic grenade to destroy any ear function.

Huh…

Of course… now she seemed to get it in her head the schematics for a healing grenade…

Stupid power…

Oh...no...Wait. She'd thought of it before but discarded it because the 'Turn people into Goo' grenade was just much more fun…

Note to self...re-examine priorities…

"Boss!? Boss! Are you ok?"

Her answer was a garbled 'Phrnlgth"

What she actually wanted to say was-

"I'm gonna fuckin kill you'

"Don't worry Boss, I'll think of something."

She laughed.

It hurt her ribs.

She was gonna kill him painfully…

"Ok. Ok. Just gotta think. Just gotta think and-"

There was a knock on the driver side window.

The driver paused, turned away from her and peered outside, where, through the slit between his shoulder and the seat, she could juuuust spy the chitinous, yellow eyed wraith that was Skitter.

The 'Mannequin' disguised as a Ward, waved at them.

Then she gestured for them to open the window.

He did so, the glass pane slowly rolling down.

"Yes?" He asked.

She held up two pairs of handcuffs. "Hi. My name's Skitter. What's yours?"

"Uhhh… Jim."

Huh. So that was his name. She had a driver named Jim. It would be etched on his tombstone. Along with the words "Shitty Driver" right underneath it.

"Hi Jim, hi Bakuda, could you put these on please?"

"You're not like...going to sting us to death or something?" He asked.

"Nah. Miss Militia asked me to try talking before the stinging next ti-well… This time now that I think about it. Apparently, Armsmaster's analyzers said the last guy was trying to say he was surrendering. But I swear I didn't understand him at all! I would've accepted the surrender!"

"Maybe his lips were swollen," Jim offered.

"Huh," She hummed. "Seems obvious now that you said it. Maybe I should keep them away from the mouth. Eyes are still useful though."

Jim did a remarkable job of seeming non pulsed.

Then- "Wait...Wasn't Lung the last guy you caught?"

"Yes! Now you see why we couldn't understand him," she chirped. "Even without the stings it wasn't my fault! His voice just gets so weird after he ramps up. He was supposedly saying Surrender and all I could understand was 'Burn everything to the ground! I say it was totally legit to hit him with that many poisonous bugs."

"Didn't you like...melt his...You know?"

"Totally legit Jim."

Jim paled a bit.

"Maybe Armsmaster's voice analyzer was just malfunctioning!" Jim once more helpfully provided, probably trying to get back on her good side.

"That is a very good point! Maybe I should go and tell him that! Get him to check before he goes asking me to do other things that make catching people harder than it has to be."

If she was incarcerated, she made a mental note to spread word about how 'helpful' Jim was being. She was sure that as soon as the bites and swelling went down, plenty of inmates would have a word with him.

She didn't need to kill him, there were plenty of people to do that for her.

"Do you think if I point it out to him they'll ease up on the whole 'Announce your presence before engaging' Thing? Honestly Ambushes get the job done so much faster!"

Bakuda spied a giant wasp, or something about the size of a closed fist land on the window frame.

"Ummm… I hope not?" Jim answered.

Skitter shrugged.

A pause.

She held out the handcuffs.

Jim eyed the handcuffs.

She tried to talk but only ended up coughing.

"I think she wants to make sure we don't get stung if we surrender."

She really really wanted to scream.

Or just shoot Jim.

Note to self. Right after priorities, buy handgun.

Her one functioning arm searched around for a grenade.

"Nope! No stings. Cross my heart."

"Ahh...Well I'll take one please," Jim said. She handed it to him.

He clicked it on one wrist and moved to click it on the other when he paused, looking at Skitter. For half a second she thought the man had grown a spine.

"Just on the wrist or around the steering wheel?"

"Uhhh I'm...not really sure. I've never done this before…" She said. "So...around the steering wheel I guess."

Jim complied.

Skitter tilted her head to look around the guy and waved. "Hi Bakuda."

Her non-functioning arm was used to give her the finger, or at least she hoped so.

She sucked down a breath, finally getting her voice back. "Yeah, no." The tinker glared, hefting the one grenade she'd managed to fish out of the side of the seat. Wasn't even sure what the hell it was really. "Ya see this? It's a big old fuck you that I haven't used yet! You should have waited til I spent all these on your friends before trying to corner me! Now what's to stop me from using them on you?"

"That you'll be caught in the blast too?"

"They're my bombs! I'll live."

"I...don't think that's how it wor-"

"I'll live!" She insisted! Her babies wouldn't turn on her. It's why she walked around with a whole duffle bag full of em!

"Okay…" Skitter turned and looked. "What about Jim?"

"Who cares about Jim!" She coughed

"I care about Jim! He's a nice guy!"

"Me too! And, yes I am!"

"No one asked for your opinion!" She snapped at him.

"Skitter!?"

That was Miss Militia's voice, or so she assumed.

The bug cape turned away. "Yes?"

"What's the situation?"

And that was Halbeard.

"Bakuda's gonna blow up Jim!"

A pause.

"Who the hell is Jim?!" And Velocity made three.

"The driver," she shouted back.

"Why is Bakuda threatening to blow up her own driver!?"

Again...Bakuda wanted to scream.

If only her ribs weren't broken.

"I think she's gonna blow up myself and Skitter." Jim finally did something useful!

"And why haven't you tried to leave the car? Skitter's insects won't hurt you." Miss Militia put forward.

"I'm handcuffed to the steering wheel."

"How'd that happen?"

"Skitter asked me to handcuff myself to the steering wheel."

"Skitter! Why did you instruct the hostage to physically restrict himself in such a way that he can't remove himself from the danger area?" Armsmaster questioned.

"Uhhh...Procedure?"

…

"What?"

"Procedure!"

…

...

"Seems legit."

"Huh!?"

Bakuda was just about ready to press the button and let sweet oblivion take all three of them just to escape from these morons! Certainly heaven had to be filled with some people that were slightly above the IQ of your average three year old!

…

Fuckit.

She pressed the button.

Nothing…

She pressed it again.

Still nothing

She opened her eyes, turning her head and looking at the bomb in her outstretched hand.

The bomb currently covered entirely in spun spider silk.

Oh you fucking bitch…

She tried to let go of the bomb, only to find it glued to her hand. She tried to pull her arm down to try and use the door or something to scrape it off, only to see a thin line of silk connecting her outstretched arm to the ceiling.

She let her head fall back to the head-rest and groaned as the conversation continued around her.

…

You know…

She wasn't even sure who she wanted to kill more anymore.

Jim, Skitter, or the fucker that had set off her bombs early…

(X)(X)(X)

Meanwhile, halfway across town, the Villain(ess) known as Marquis smirked behind her mask as she took full advantage of the ensuing chaos to get several tons worth of merchandise through customs without all the hubbub and oversight of the 'legitimate' employees.

After all, who the hell would come into work when the city was blowing up around them?

"Marquis!"

Annette Hebert actually stumbled. Completely caught off guard as she turned to look.

"Brandish!?" She balked, completely slipping out of her usual vernacular for the 'eloquent' persona she wore as a cape.

"You thought we would let you get away with this?" The heroine asked.

Annette looked around.

"Alright. First off, there is no We here, apparently your sibling and respective husbands have more sense and honestly woman, the city is practically in flames! Why exactly are you bothering me?"

"I'm not gonna let you get away with whatever you're doing here! Using the bombs to distract everyone was clever but I'm not falling for it!"

Annette tilted her head.

This time, she did slip out of her usual vocabulary.

"Ok. Seriously, all joking aside, you really really need some professional medical assistance. This isn't healthy anymore Brandish"

"Enough with your jokes!"

"Didn't I establish "all joking aside" in my last statement? I am truly, imploring you as your nemesis, for everyone's sake, get medical attention. Serious medical attention. Hell. I'll pay for it if money's the issue."

"I said enou-" Brandish was brought up short as 'Marquis' turned away. "Who the hell are you calling?"

Annette ignored her, phone pressed to her ear.

"Yes, Lady Photon?"

The New Wave cape almost fell flat out of the sky. "Wh-How the hell do you have my sister's number!?"

Annette flatly ignored her. "Yes I'm calling about your sister darling… She's right here. Listen. Is everything ok at home? I'm starting to get some very serious concerns here. Oh?... Yes darling, it's Marquis….Well because I have everyone's number dear….I understand, consider it deleted…. Of course you shouldn't believe me... Anyway, the safety of your cellular phone number is inconsequential. Now. Back to the matter at han-"

Brandish blinked.

Fucking with her.

That's what this had to be.

Carol dallon felt the most curious of juxtapositions as her brain tried to both, drive her into a murderous rage at the sight of Marquis casually talking with her sister about her non existent mental health issues, and simply shut down at the absurdity of this whole thing…

…

"Yes darling I believe a serious intervention is, at this juncture, completely necessary. I'd honestly be somewhat flattered if I wasn't so concerned for her health."

…

Marquis nodded. "Yes of course." Then, he turned towards her. "It's alright dear, your sister will be here shortly."

…

…

Apparently, Marquis saw the look in her eyes. "Yes well you might want to speed it up." He said. "I do believe she's reaching that event horizon point of no return."

A pause.

"How is Mark? I can't help but feel that something must be addressed at home. It always starts at the home they say. So something there is the root cause of this."

With a roar Brandish rushed forward!

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: