AN: Apparently this show isn't quite finished with me yet. A while back I suddenly fell hard for it again, got all my enthusiasm back ... and then real life gave me a good hard slap in the face that knocked all fandom thoughts out of my mind. Still, my renewed interest lasted long enough for me to type up this little idea that had haunted me since I first started writing fic here. Even if I don't end up getting my mojo back for the fandom, I still think this is a nice story to end on, for reasons that will hopefully be clear after you've read it.
As mentioned in the summary, this is a sequel to "New and Subtle Shades." You definitely don't need to have read the other fic to enjoy this one, but it does take place in the same continuity, and under the same assumption that as Wordgirl grows up she'll let her guard down and become a lot closer with the villains. Here I've pushed the timeline a further four years into the future, to see how an eighteen-year-old Wordgirl might be getting along with her rogues gallery, and one villain in particular.
Credit where credit's due: the title comes from Tennyson's "Ulysses," a line which kept running through my head as I planned the story: "Tho' much is taken, much abides ..."
She loved this post-battle feeling, now. Blood still pounding, adrenaline still surging, muscles tired but not yet sore; each breath loud and greedy in the newly-restored peace and quiet. And then the pleasant lull as she settled back to earth, the satisfaction of a job well done, and the prospect of some friendly conversation as she and the villain du jour waited for the police to arrive.
Wordgirl stretched. Two Brains' scheme today hadn't been particularly challenging, but she couldn't fault him for the venue. The rooftop restaurant of the new Imperial Hotel offered dazzling views at any hour of the day, but now, drenched in the rich golden sunlight of late afternoon, the city's skyline looked otherworldly. She gazed at the fantasy landscape of glowing skyscrapers, trying to savor the view.
It was a beautiful ending to what had been a wonderful summer day, but – Wordgirl knew as she stretched further – her admiration for the sights was quickly becoming an excuse to put off something else she needed to do.
"No, please, take your time. This is very comfortable for me."
Wordgirl dropped the stretch. "Coming, coming," she said, stifling a yawn as she headed towards the tangled twist of metal that had been a modern sculpture moments before. She found a seam and pried it open, then reached in to rescue Two Brains from his makeshift prison. He accepted the hand and clambered out.
"Well, so much for that," said Wordgirl, regarding the misshapen statue ruefully.
"Looks better this way," Two Brains said. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the discomfort of his awkward position.
"Really? Think I could sell it? I wonder how much the hotel paid for it."
"More than it's worth, that's for sure. And people say I'm a criminal."
"Yeah, right, I wonder why?" She looked pointedly at the enormous ray gun in the middle of the dining area, surrounded by upturned chairs and tables and debris of all kinds. "Speaking of which …" She zoomed over to the ray and split it in half with a single decisive blow.
"I was hoping you might forget about that."
She shot him a look that said clearly, As if. "Henchmen still downstairs?"
"Yeah, they'll know to wait for me. Police on their way?"
"Probably, but no rush. You want something to drink?" She pointed to the sleek glass refrigerator behind the bar.
Two Brains had started towards the elevator, but he shrugged and changed course. "Sure. See if they have strawberry."
Wordgirl pried open the fridge's door – it had gotten a little knocked around in the fight, but she managed to jimmy it open – and rummaged around for a red bottle, then found a soda for herself. By the time she had the drinks in hand, Two Brains was already settling on the very edge of the roof, where his ray had blasted a hole in the railing. She went to join him.
"Wouldn't this count as stealing?" he said as he accepted his drink from her. His tone was almost matter-of-fact, an obligation to tease rather than any real interest in irritating her.
"I'm going to leave money on the register," she replied, fulfilling her part of the exchange.
"Of course."
She settled next to him, legs dangling over the vast drop to the sidewalk below. She wondered for a moment whether Two Brains found the height at all alarming. What would it be like to have a fear of falling? She'd never know.
She twisted off the cap of her drink and took a sip. "You seem tired," she said.
"Eh," said Two Brains, "just been a long week. I've been in a bit of a rut lately, don't you think? Same old thing. I need to find something new."
And there was her opening. She was tired, too, and it would be nice to just sit here in companionable silence and watch the sun sink below the skyline. But she probably wouldn't have another chance to have this conversation.
"Listen," she said reluctantly, "There's something I want to talk to you about."
"Hoo boy," said Two Brains. "What'd I do?"
"You mean aside from trying to rob a hotel to fund your latest effort to turn the city into cheese?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
"Well, yes. Besides that."
She shook her head. "I can't believe the things I let you people get away with nowadays."
"You're sending me to jail, aren't you?"
"Still. You'd think I might be giving you a lecture instead of treating you to refreshments. But anyways," she continued, before he could respond, "I've been talking to all the villains about this. You remember that I'm going off to college in a couple weeks, right?"
Two Brains shrugged. "Sounds vaguely familiar."
"Yeah, well, I am. Which means I'm not going to be here to protect the city. It's all going to be up to the police."
"Hey, yeah, that's right, isn't it?" Two Brains said. She could see him brightening at the prospect.
"So," she said loudly, to interrupt the plans she could already see racing through his head, "I've been asking everyone if they could – you know – ease up a little bit? At least for the first month or two? Because it's going to be kind of a rough transition for the police department. Since they've relied on me for so long."
"Ease up?" Two Brains said, sounding scandalized. "The whole city's getting handed to me on a silver platter and you want me to ease up?"
"Yes," she said, laughing a little. She could tell he was joking. Well, mostly joking. Probably. "That's exactly why I want you to ease up. C'mon, give the poor PD a break."
"What, because they've made you do all their dirty work for ten years they deserve a vacation as soon as you head off?"
"Oh, please," she said. "You know it won't be any fun for you if it's not a challenge."
"I don't want fun," Two Brains insisted, "I want cheese. I thought we'd covered this pretty thoroughly."
"I think you've established pretty thoroughly that you're in it for both. I'm not saying you have to quit cold turkey, just that you should throttle back a bit. Until they get used to not having me around."
"What kind of superhero are you," Two Brains grumbled, "telling villains they're allowed to keep committing crimes?"
"Not a very good one, that's for sure," Wordgirl said lightly.
"Well, let's say a practical one," Two Brains amended. He took another sip of his drink. Wordgirl waited. "And apparently the practical approach works," he finally sighed, "because here I am, agreeing. All right, fine, kid, have it your way. I hope you know this means I'll be saving up all the best plans for your breaks. Hope you weren't expecting to have a peaceful Thanksgiving with your family."
"At this point, why would I?" she deadpanned. "You'll probably have to schedule it in, though. By now I think the Butcher commits Thanksgiving crimes just so I'll sit down and have a drumstick with him."
They lapsed into a pleasant silence. Her task finished, Wordgirl let her gaze wander over the city again. It really was beautiful. Splendid, magnificent, gorgeous, her brain supplied automatically. Lovely, exquisite, dazzling, sublime. Still, sometimes simplicity was best - beautiful was the word, she decided, just beautiful. It was easy to forget how breathtaking the cityscape could be, when she shot past it three times a day trying to stop some crime or other. Now, as the sun dipped lower, the buildings looked gilded, golden frames surrounding jeweled windows. Hard to believe that she'd be leaving all this behind in just a few short weeks.
"Where're you going to college again?" Two Brains said.
Wordgirl glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She suspected, sometimes, that he wasn't quite as forgetful as he seemed; that sometimes he pretended not to know things he remembered perfectly well. She wasn't sure why, if that were indeed the case. Maybe he wanted people to think he cared less than he did. Maybe sometimes he just didn't know how else to start the conversation.
In any case, she answered. "Gwynne University."
Two Brains nodded appreciatively. "Not surprised," he said, and Wordgirl smiled at the implied compliment. Gwynne had a national reputation for its strong academics.
"What'll you study?" he asked.
"Linguistics," she answered promptly. "Maybe with a double major in modern languages. Or literature. Or library science."
"Quadruple major, then."
"Seems doable, right?"
He snorted. "For someone with super speed, sure. Would that we were all so lucky."
After another pause, he spoke again. "And that Tobey kid – he's in your year, right? Where's he going?"
"Fair City University," she said. "So, not nearly so far. He got accepted into the engineering program."
Two Brains nodded, impressed. "That's a great program. Shame it doesn't seem he'll be using his talents for villainy."
"Yeah, real pity," she laughed.
An evening breeze swept across the rooftop, a welcome relief from the heat of the day. To Wordgirl's sharp senses, it brought the smell of hot dog vendors' sizzling grease and the exhaust pipes of unloading trucks, and the constant murmur of human activity on the streets below.
"I used to teach there, you know," said Two Brains suddenly. "At the university."
Wordgirl froze. In the eight years since the accident, she'd never heard Two Brains talk voluntarily about his past life, certainly never so casually. After a certain point she'd assumed he never would. She clutched her soda bottle tightly as a million possibilities for how to respond flashed through her mind. She had no idea how to navigate this, no idea what to say that wouldn't knock him back into reticence and close the topic forever. She risked a glance over at him, but he was looking out at the skyline, his profile unreadable.
Finally she said simply, cautiously, "I know."
After a moment, he merely shrugged and took another drink of his juice, apparently having said his piece.
Wordgirl, however, wasn't quite ready to let it go.
"So …" she said tentatively, "Any advice for an incoming freshman? From the other side of the lecture stand?"
Two Brains considered this for a moment, then said, "Don't skip class. Do your homework."
"Oh, great," she said, trying to hide her disappointment. "I'll keep that in mind."
He shook his head and smiled a little. "Kid like you, that's all you gotta do. You're plenty smart, you're gonna do great." Wordgirl ducked her head, taken aback by the direct praise.
"Seriously, though," Two Brains added, "don't skip class. We can tell when your friend signed the attendance sheet for you. Unbelievably annoying."
She laughed. "Duly noted."
The tension melted away, and it could have been any other evening after any other battle. Like everything was normal. Like this wasn't all going to vanish in a matter of weeks.
They sat in silence for a long time, finishing their drinks. The breezes picked up as the golden light began to tinge with orange and the sky flushed pink. Now, in the lush colors of sunset, the skyscrapers weren't gilded jewelry but the jewels themselves, glittering and brilliant, flickering with an internal flame. Beneath it all, hundreds of cars crawled home from work - just another day finished, just another sunset in the city.
"It's all going to be different, isn't it?" Wordgirl said quietly.
"Hmm?"
"After I go away to school. It's just – over. I'll be away nine months of the year. I won't be seeing you guys. I won't be diving out of classes when I hear alarm bells ringing. I won't –" She stopped, her power failing her, unable to find the right words.
"And you're complaining about that?" Two Brains joked. "That you won't be at the beck and call of the police blotter anymore?"
Wordgirl's gaze just drifted down to the empty bottle in her lap.
After she didn't respond, Two Brains spoke again, more gently this time. "Hey, it's not like you won't have breaks, right? And college doesn't last forever."
"Yeah, but crimefighting on vacation isn't the same as doing it year-round. For ten years. Since I was eight. And – and who knows if I'll even come back to Fair City after graduation? What about grad school, or just … getting a job somewhere else?"
"Well, then, make sure you pick a big enough city and there'll be plenty of other villains wherever you settle down. Probably be good for you, mix it up a little, help you learn new techniques."
But I don't want new villains! shouted a voice inside her mind. She could hear how childish it sounded, and yet it opened a floodgate of all the feelings she'd been trying to ignore as she said goodbye to her villains, her friends, one by one. I want you guys. I want the interrupted classes, the news reports, the jailbreaks. I want the battles. I want to get knitting lessons from Granny May while we wait for the police to arrive. I want to eat drumsticks with the Butcher on Thanksgiving. I want to sit down after a fight and watch the sun set over the city I've known my whole life. I want this!
I want this, but I'm never going to have it again, and there's nothing I can do.
To her horror, her throat grew thick and her eyes started to burn. She swallowed frantically and tried to take deep breaths. She could feel Two Brains watching her and kept her eyes fixed on the soda bottle until her vision stopped blurring.
Finally she managed to choke out, "But it won't be the same." As soon as she had, her throat closed up again.
She felt Two Brains shifting thoughtfully on her left. He was quiet for a while, but not in a way that made her think that she'd made him uncomfortable, that he was trying to find a way to leave, the way she might have once. She could tell that he was, simply, thinking of something to say.
"Look," he said finally, and she could tell how cautiously he was picking his words. The care in it made her heart feel like it was going to burst. "Yeah. It is. It is going to be different. But – is it too easy if I say that different doesn't have to mean bad? Yeah, it is. It's way too easy. Forget that. What I'm trying to say is –" He blew out a burst of air, frustrated. She traced the rim of the bottle with her finger, waiting for him to find what he wanted to say.
"I guess, when things change like that - we hate it because choices get taken away from us. That's how it feels, anyway, but it's not true, not totally true." He spoke more decisively now. "Yeah, when you come back from school, things are going to be a lot different, but if there's something you want to hang on to, then just – hang on to it, you know? You decide what's worth the effort. Look, what I'm saying is – we all – I mean, if you still want – I know that I, for one – oh, forget it. What I'm saying is, you don't have to wait for the Butcher to commit a crime on Thanksgiving to go have a drumstick with the guy, you know? Cut him a break. Bring him some cranberry sauce. Make paper-maché turkeys, or whatever he's into, I don't know." A pause. "That's it. That's what I have to say. Cranberry sauce."
He sounded so disgusted with himself that Wordgirl couldn't help but laugh. She twirled the bottle between her fingers for a few more moments.
"Yeah," she said. She finally looked up at him and gave him a watery smile. "Cranberry sauce."
"Well," said Two Brains. "Another stimulating conversation with the two greatest minds in Fair City. I've had about all the berry-related discourse my brains can handle for the day. Take me away, hero." He got to his feet, and brushed himself off, and patted her shoulder. Then he started making his way towards the elevator.
Alarmed, Wordgirl looked back out towards the city. She'd wanted to stay to watch the sunset, at least. The sun hadn't even brushed the horizon yet. It hung in front of her, red and glowing, framed by an avenue of shimmering glass skyscrapers. The whole scene shone so brightly it hurt even her alien eyes to look at it. She wasn't ready to go.
But Two Brains, obviously, was. She took a breath, and as she did, she cast her mind's eye as far as she could over the scene, trying imprint the image of this golden-red glow in her memory forever. She paused a moment more to feel the breeze, to hear the honking of the cars, to smell the gritty scent of steel and asphalt. Then she, too, climbed to her feet. There would be other sunsets. And there would be the memory of this one. And between those, she would find a way to make do.
She walked towards the elevator, trailing her hands over upturned ends of tables and chairs and counters. Two Brains had already headed down, but she would meet him at the bottom. She pressed the button, and when the elevator arrived, she didn't look back.
Ready or not, it was time to go.