It was odd, being left alone. Sending me to the hospital for physical and mental trauma back in January hadn't been enough to achieve that. Afterwards, the bullying had continued.

Sometimes it was petty and nagging. Small theft, the constant buzz of ambient harassment, a push or a trip here and there. Other times, they went all out and started strong, only to keep pushing until something broke. These times, I was cornered and struck or worse.

A few times since January, maybe out of a need to escalate after the locker biohazard idea, Emma and Sophia had tread new ground. Touching me in inappropriate places, ripping clothing while passing me in the hallway, trying to expose me in front of others. Fortunately they seemed to be as new to these things as I was, despite the boyfriends both had had, so it never went particularly far.

All of that, and I just took it. Nothing happened. My life simply continued its path downhill, my few relationships deteriorated further, I cried often. The list of my abuses grew longer, more pages joining the stack in my closet every week. The bitches seemed to enjoy themselves.

Sometimes I thought about ending it all.

Most of the time, even that seemed pointless. It was hard to pinpoint the day the scales tipped and it finally happened, but it hadn't been long after the locker. One week I cried my professors' names, I asked and begged for help, and when it all failed I stood in front of windows for far too long, trying to imagine what it would feel like to plummet.

The next week I wasn't sure why it mattered to me at all. The mental anguish simply disappeared and I entered some sort of a second state, in which the bruises still hurt but I didn't exactly care. Time felt different in that state. Each moment crawled with excruciating slowness, but overall each day was captured in an instant.

The abuse kept coming, I kept taking it. More silently, this time, and I cried out of habit.

Today, on the eighth of April, I felt different, and so did the bullies.

The reason why was obvious. Yesterday I had triggered in plain sight of many students, including Emma and Sophia as well as many others I didn't know by name. While chased I had disappeared, and the others knew what that meant.

You can't fuck with Taylor Hebert anymore, because the Wards are talking to her dad today. She's going to be a superhero. She'll kick your ass if you get her way while she saves the city from the ABB's famous dragon-and-bugs combo, or the Empire 88's nazi-flavored cutting powers.

Damn, this was good to think about.

The assorted bitches walked past me and my locker, and I kept my back turned on them. Defiant, but no very dangerous. They couldn't do anything, not now that my complaints and accusations would carry so much more weight. None of them grabbed at my top or pants, or made a comment.

I only caught a glimpse of Sophia's face as she passed me, staring at me. Her expression was something different altogether. Anger, and something else. No fear.

For a reason I couldn't figure out, it killed my ease completely. There was something with Sophia, something I couldn't know, that was going to bite me in the ass.

Despite the fact that I was having my first harassment-free day since I first set foot in Winslow, there was no smile on my face. What next?

I got home around two in the afternoon, after a call from my dad let me know the PRT was ready to talk to me. In the meantime, while they asked my dad a few questions, they'd wanted me to spend my first day post-trigger as normally as possible.

How it hadn't occurred to anyone that school was also the place where I'd triggered, with the people who had caused me to trigger after years of near-torture, I didn't know. I supposed the pressure of normal procedure had surpassed any individual's ability to use logic.

I let myself in to find my dad and two young PRT officers, a man and a woman, as well as the hero Battery lounging around the place. It made sense that they had brought her, given that she was also a woman and our powers had some similarities.

The television was on but only the male PRT officer payed attention to it, while the others sat on chairs and the couch for a conversation.

"Taylor!", my dad exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"

His smile was contagious. Both of us had been feeling the damage in our increasingly distant relationship. It had taken a trigger event and a lot of fear and confusion the previous night for us to have an actual intimate conversation again, the first in months, and now he was excited for us to be together again.

I was just as happy to be close to my father again, enough so that all the hurt that had plagued me and culminated only about twenty three hours earlier could be pushed aside to deal with later.

My issues were still there, but they were the third biggest thing on my mind right now. First was having a discussion with my father and the PRT, and second was whatever was up with Sophia.

"I'm great, dad," I said in a sort of lie. I was alright, once I added every feeling up. "Hi everyone."

Everyone in the room stood at once. I nearly expected them to applaud.

"It's great to meet you, Taylor," Battery said a she stepped closer to offer her hand. I shook it and returned the compliment.

The two officers introduced themselves as Barry and Emily. I noticed the handgun they each had at their belt wasn't the traditional kind. Non-lethal?

I was offered a seat at the couch, in between dad and Battery, while Emily and Barry sat on two chairs they'd brought closer from the dining room table.

Battery was the one who said the speech I imagine we all received.

"Alright, Taylor. I think you understand very well how important this conversation we're having is."

I nodded. "Of course."

"Then allow me to skip some of the build up, I know I hated waiting through it back when I joined," she said with a wink, "and ask you a simple question. You can answer with a yes or a no, or more if you want to. Taylor, do you want to join the Brockton Bay Wards?"

I had thought about this.

"Yes. I also have reasons to not want to join, but I want to at least try your way before I choose to go it alone and hurt myself or someone else."

Battery smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, Taylor. If it's nothing too personal, can I ask you about your reasons to hesitate? I might be able to clarify a few things.

She seemed very nice, with the way she looked me in the eye without staring to push her dominance. She had a pleasant smile and a light voice, and I found it hard to refuse the request. From what I'd heard and what I could see, she was what we all wanted heroes to be like. Powerful and good.

"It's not a problem. I, uh, don't really like the part where I'm going to be under someone's authority and scrutiny. That hasn't always worked out well for me." Understatement of the year, I thought to myself, and the hero nodded patiently. "Also being surrounded by a small number of unknown kids my age. I feel like it would only take two or three of them disliking me for the rest to go along and treat me the same way it's been for me in Winslow."

She nodded again, but her expression changed slightly. In some little way, it reminded me of the look I had seen on Sophia's bitch face.

Please let this be a coincidence.

"I think you should be perfectly fine," Battery assured me. "Clockblocker, Vista, Kid Win, Gallant and Aegis are all very nice, and the people in charge of the Wards are themselves the subjects of scrutiny to make sure our young heroes are treated fairly."

"And Shadow Stalker? You skipped her."

Please have a good explanation.

"Well, it isn't a secret that Shadow Stalker is with us as a probationary Ward because of previous crimes. She was never a villain, but her methods were very non-heroic."

"And she's going to be a problem to me," I said in the tone of an accusation.

"We have already spoken to her about the possibility of a new Ward joining soon, and she knows not to act out. As a non-probationary Ward, any clash between the two of you would have you immediately favored when it comes to assigning blame, and she does not have much more blame left to carry before her status is revisited."

She finished her obviously prepared explanation with a knowing wink. It made sense, we both knew it, she was winning me over, we both knew it.

But it wasn't exactly over.

"Excuse me," my wonderful father, intruded, "but it sounds to me like you expect Shadow Stalker to go after the new kid. Does she have a history of hazing?"

"Not really hazing," Battery said in a hurry, "but she has often displayed a very negative attitude. We wanted to make sure that she wouldn't see Taylor as an easy target, and that Taylor would know to report anything she might do. With these precautions, I am confident that there won't be any ongoing problems."

"That's good, I guess." I was being honest - nothing the hero said didn't make sense to me - but I still had a lingering doubt.

"One last question, and then I'm fine with dropping this train of thought," I promised, "but I really need an honest answer here."

Battery looked at me, and I saw that same expression flashing on her face before she composed herself.

"Do you believe she will go after me not because I'm new, but because I'm me? Do I know Shadow Stalker?"

She wore a weird kind of broken smile, now. "I understand that you want honesty here, Taylor, but her identity is a secret and-"

I interrupted her, as rude as that was.

"Is she Sophia Hess?"

The look on Battery's face changed. "I can neither confirm nor deny. I can admit that it would be a good guess, though."

My dad seemed to be catching up. "Yes, my daughter is a very smart kid. Now that we all understand what is really being discussed," he said as the two PRT officers seemed more confused than ever before, "I'm going to demand a written promise that at the first and slightest infraction Shadow Stalker commits against my daughter, she is to be immediately expelled from the Wards."

I nodded vigorously. "If you want to have a better idea of what she might try, I have an extensive list of the things she likes doing to me."

Everyone in the room, my father included, seemed surprised.

Battery recovered quickly. She must have done recruiting before.

"I would be willing to look that over, as well as mentioning your idea of an additional contract to protect Taylor to the people in charge of her case."

"Thank you", I said, and dad echoed me.

The hero stood, the circuitry on her tight body suit flashing in places with the movement.

"Mr. Hebert, Taylor, thank you for your hospitality and for considering a membership in the Brockton Bay Wards. Unless you have more questions, I believe enough was discussed today. I will contact you again when I know more about your requests."

We all stood and shook hands, exchanged polite words.

"In the meantime, Taylor," Battery concluded, "you should try and think of a name for your identity as a hero."

They all left, and dad and I were alone again. We shared a minute of silence before he spoke.

"If they refuse… If it can't be as cut and dry as 'she does something, she's kicked out', are you going to refuse their offer?"

"Don't know. I might still join, but then I'll spend as much time doing my job as a Ward as I will spend looking over my shoulder."

He offered a tentative smile. "Whatever she does, you'll be able to escape her. And no matter what the circumstances are, you'd better believe I will not let them get away with giving her a slap on the wrist."

"Thanks, dad."

I smiled back, genuinely. Sitting together on the couch, I edged closer to him so I could rest my head on his shoulder. I found it equally comforting and odd, after avoiding him emotionally for so long. There was more on his mind, obviously, but he allowed me to dictate when we were silent.

"Wanna help me find a cape name?"

"Sure, just let me get the computer. Can't pick one that's already taken by some villain in Poland or something."

I started thinking as he left the room, staring at my hand while I drummed my fingers on the couch fast enough for them to be a blur. I was fast, but my power also made me less of a solid object. I couldn't lift much or even open doors easily, but it was the cost of moving at ten times the speed I could achieve without the power.

If I joined the Wards, and maybe one day the Protectorate, one of my duties would surely be to race across the city and be the first response in certain cases. As fast as I was, this still meant running long distances was necessary. I made a mental note to start going on runs soon.

Speedster?

Blur?

Flash?

Velocity?

I wasn't sure. Dad came back to the couch with the laptop. We searched my first few ideas online and found that every one was already taken, some by capes who had seemingly unrelated powers.

"They should have a committee approve these names before letting capes adopt them," I joked, "and we wouldn't have a fire manipulator called Blur."

"Even better, let's let bureaucrats assign names. Armsmaster would be called Fight-Tinker."

I laughed. "Legend could be Flying-Lasers, or Alexandria Strong-Fly-Tough."

"Miss Militia would be called Guns."

"That fits really well! Guess who this one is: Smoke-Bitch."

"Taylor!" He said acting outraged, over the top. "Of course I know this is Shadow Stalker."

"Damn right. And what would I be?", I asked him.

"Weird-Fast?", he suggested with a smile.

"Maybe Weak-when-Fast?"

"That works," he said with a firm, professional nod. "We've got your cape name, Weak-when-Fast. Welcome to the Wards."

"What an honor. Seriously though, what do you think of Rapid? It means fast, but also violent, like an inescapable current of water. Fast and powerful, despite the obvious drawback of my power, not that I want to advertise my weaknesses," I suggested.

Dad smiled at me. "Let's just check that Rapid isn't taken already," he said while initiating the search online, "but I'm all for it."

There wasn't a single match online. No hero, no villain, no rogue.

I had my identity.