Divergence 1.1

My thoughts were on Emma Barnes as the bus jerked forward forcing me to catch myself or sprawl across the seat I was trying to occupy. I ignored the rumble of the bus as is picked up speed. I ignored the stares from the other passengers. At least, I tried too. An obvious high school teen on a public bus, covered in soda and juice splotches, and reeking of said beverages, tended to draw attention. My luck held true as I ended up drawing the wrong kind of attention. No help, no encouragement, nothing but whispers, gawking stares, sneers. Just another wonderful day in my life.

Just another day in a year and a half long campaign to break me. My entire high school life. Freshmen year wasn't so bad I guess. At least last year I didn't have to hide in the girl's toilet to be able to eat my lunch in peace. Of course, that was after they found my hiding spot under the bleachers. Though in retrospect, it wasn't that original of a hiding spot to begin with. Probably why it took them so long to find it, too obvious. Sadly, once they did they went out of their way to make sure I wouldn't go back. They didn't like not being able to find me when they wanted. Can't harass someone who can't be easily found.

Then this year started with the same old slow escalation of pranks, snide comments, remarks, and attacks. All of it building to the incident three months ago. That incident led me to being hospitalized for a week. Psychotic break down the doctors said. Something else entirely, I knew.

Since then, none of the assaults had been as graphic, but that didn't mean much. They still pushed hoping the next time I broke, I would stay broken. They kept the pressure on me every moment. Degrading emails, encouraging others to whisper about me. Attacks against myself or my belongings whenever they could get away with it. Always pushing me, trying to wear me down, make me react.

I swallowed thickly still trying to ignore the stares and whispers of the people around me. I would be so easy just to go Carrie on the school. It would be so easy. I can't say I didn't think about it a time or ten. They had no idea what they created last January. They had no idea that if I lost control, it wasn't just possible I would hurt them. It was a certainty. They only question would be if I could regain control before my power killed them.

Or, if I would even try.

I didn't want that. I didn't want to be a villain. Ever since my power became active, all I wanted was to find a way to be a hero. Make a difference. Like Alexandria or Miss Militia. Or even Glory Girl. Turn this negative into a positive.

Not that my power was anything compared to theirs. They were real heroes, with real powers. I wasn't invulnerable to everything from bullets to Endbringers. I couldn't fly or shoot lasers out of my hands. I couldn't stand toe to toe with the big name villains and expect to survive.

All I could do was control bugs. Not exactly hero material. But that is what I wanted more than anything. It's why I held back against my tormentors. I knew if I retaliated, even without using my powers, it would escalate until I had to use my bugs to stop them. The second I did that, I lost. Over the last thirty years that people had been manifesting powers, laws sprung up to deal with them. Any parahuman who used their powers, in some cases even marginally, against a normal human went to jail. Or the Birdcage, if you were really dangerous enough. Or if your crime or power was scary enough. In extreme cases where there was a high enough body count, or if they couldn't get you inside the Birdcage for whatever reason, they put out a kill order on you. Not only was it legal to do it, but most of the time, bounties were even placed on you to make it more enticing for it to happen.

Fuck that.

I wasn't ruining my life. Not for them. Not for this. Besides, I was better than that.

Brockton Bay, like pretty much any cape city, had a lot of gangs. Not the usual run of the mill gangs either, but cape gangs. They did pretty much the same stuff as regular gangs, but just bigger. Deadlier. There were several in the city, and each of these from the minor to the major had a cape at the head. Gangs like Empire Eighty Eight had over twenty they could call on. Serious super villains with back up, agendas, and connections. Those guys committed crimes or killed people and got away with it. Those kinds of capes usually didn't stay in jail long Wasn't that uncommon to see the occasional transit to the Birdcage get intercepted if the gang was big or strong enough. It happened more than a few times.

The Bay also had its heroes. Like the Protectorate. The Wards, mostly teens like me who had powers, but more organized with expectations each would join the Protectorate when they got old enough.

Then there were groups like New Wave. The only hero family anywhere who openly proclaimed who they were, and yes, they were parahumans. They had regular 'day jobs' and everything, doing their superhero thing at night or whenever they happened to come across a crime in progress. They still wore costumes like the rest of the capes worldwide, but they didn't hide their true identity.

Unwilling to think about all that anymore I looked at my stained and rumpled backpack before I reached for it. I cringed at my first look at the damage. The first thing I noticed was that my notebook was practically ruined. Grape Juice had soaked through at least a quarter of the pages with the ink already running in places. I felt myself tearing up just looking at it.

Over two months of work… Gone. I had everything in that notebook. All my preparations, all my contingency ideas for my cape life. All my costume variations, even my research into various different uses different bugs could provide for a wide range of possible scenarios. With all the harassment from Emma, Madison, and Sophia I wrote the whole thing in code, from bottom to top. I wouldn't be able to recover all of it, not with this damage. It would probably take me a week just to salvage the bulk.

I felt the tear fall from my eye as I looked down at, what was essentially, all the hopes for my future life as a hero ruined.

I was so focused on my notebook I didn't even feel the bus stop. Nor did I know anyone had gotten on until I felt something drape across my shoulders startling me enough to make me jump. A young man, couldn't have been much older than me, adjusted what I assumed was his hoodie. I sat stone still looking at him with what I could only imagine was a deer in the headlights look. He ignored me pulling the hood over my head adjusting it until it partially obscured my face.

I bowed my head not knowing what to do with this. I wasn't used to anyone caring, except for my dad, much less a complete stranger. I felt my shame burn along my cheeks as I tried to make myself even more unnoticeable in my seat. His kindness seemed to compound my problems even more.

I watched the stranger sit next to me, folding his muscular arms. He just sat there looking at the other passengers. His hair was cut shorter than I'd ever seen any teen wear except for the Jr. R.O.T.C kids who planned to go into the military. His face had an intensity to it that I'd never seen in anyone before. As if he could project his disappointment in the people around us through his striking green eyes. Or how he clinched his strong jaw poorly hidden by the light goatee he was trying to grow in. Even the way he held himself, relaxed but somehow still rigid as if he expected he would have to beat his point into everyone he looked at.

Seemingly willing, even eager, to do so if given the slightest encouragement.

As I continued my silent observation I noted how built he was. Not freakish or overblown like I'd seen some jocks get up to but very well-toned. Lean muscle with just enough bulk that told me he worked out a lot shown through his faded ACDC T-shirt that was stretched a bit tightly across his chest. Even his jeans were form fitting enough to see he probably ran track or at least took the time to balance out his workouts so that every part of him was well tuned. He couldn't have been much older than me but there was something about him that made him seem a lot older.

The people he looked at stopped whispering. None of them would meet his gaze for more than a moment before they got uncomfortable and wouldn't meet them again.

I hitched my shoulders a bit lower. I was suddenly even more aware of the fact I was covered in juices and soda and the fact, sitting next to me, he could probably smell it. As the silence stretched on I could feel every sticky damp part of my clothes against my skin. Even the weight of the hoodie draped over me settled on my consciousness.

Of course, it made perfect sense in my world view that at this low point in my life, a guy would pay attention to me. It didn't help that the boy next to me was good looking and I looked like I just stepped off the set of a Nickelodeon special.

"Thanks…" I half whispered to him.

His light baritone replied. "No problem."

His voice held a sureness to it I couldn't explain. I only recognized it because I'd never heard anyone talk that way. It was strangely comforting, yet hard. No, not hard I thought. Firm.

We passed the next two stops that way. Me sitting hunkered in his sweater like it could protect me from the world, and the stranger frowning at anyone who dared to look my way. I'd never rode the bus and felt that safe. It was a surreal experience. Feeling safe, and not being home.

When he finally did speak I couldn't help but jump.

"Can't be easy." The strange teen stated.

His voice caught me off guard. So much was said in the tone alone. Like he knew. "S...sorry?"

I looked at him. Not fully but out to the corner of my eye. He still wasn't looking right at me. Still frowning at the few gawkers brave enough to still whisper about me. "Carrying a weight like that. After a while, sort of feels like living with a gun to your head. Any misstep and it could go off. Every time you get jostled, it feels like the last. Can't be easy."

"W...what makes you think th, that?"

"Experience." He answered without a trace of hesitation. I felt myself blink. By his tone of voice alone, I could almost believe he meant it.

He finally turned to face me fully. His eyes took me by surprise. There was something there. Some combination of sadness, strength, and protectiveness. So many emotions flickered in that moment I couldn't even guess at the range.

I blinked several times as the moment passed. He adopted a more playful look complete with a slight smirk. "So, since this has the potential to get weird, I'm Shepard. Sebastian Shepard."

His smirk was infections and I couldn't help but smile slightly back. "Taylor Hebert."

For a moment I forgot my circumstance. His firm grip didn't crush mine but left me with the impression it, like everything else about him, was controlled. The rest of the ride to my stop passed in silence neither of us broke. It was comfortable.

Once we did reach my stop I felt my flush return to my cheeks again. I moved to return his hoodie but he stopped me by rising so I could exit while shaking his head.

"Keep it."

"I couldn't…"

"Sure you can. I can always get another sweater. However, you only get this one chance to finish your journey. I'll not pry, not my business, but you look like you've had a nasty day. The chance to make it better is worth the price of cloth."

I rose picking up my pack looking fully into his face. He had a kind smile. "If you're sure…"

He nodded easily. "Absolutely. There can never be enough kindness in the world. Maybe one day, you'll help someone else. Brighten their bad day in a way that makes a difference. Even if it's just the cost of some of your time, or a hoodie. I've learned a long time ago, it makes more of a difference than most people think it will."

He didn't keep his voice down and I could see the effect his words had on the other passengers. Several looked away from us, as if they were ashamed of their inaction. I felt myself tearing up again. This time in gratitude instead of in anger or frustration. I nodded unable to say more before making my way off the bus and walking the last block or so to my house.

As I did, I turned Sebastian's words over in my mind. My costume was almost ready. Even without my notes I could finish the last few bits within a week. It was then I realized I'd been procrastinating over taking the plunge and starting my career as a hero trying to out think all possible contingencies. Originally I had planned to make my debut this summer, continuing my planning and training for that time. I thought it would take that long to save up the money I would need for things I couldn't make myself. Now, as I thought about this random act of kindness from a stranger my thoughts realigned.

I'd go next week.

Still thinking I unlocked the back door to my house making my way to the upstairs shower that had my name in it. I dropped my pack on the floor stepping into the tub before stripping out of my clothes. The only one that didn't end up on the bottom of the tub was the hoodie Sebastian gave to me. I carefully folded it up and put it on the toilet before turning on the water, getting it as hot as I could stand it. Hopefully I could salvage my clothes, but their condition was far down on my thought list at the moment.