Nikil wasn't exactly a normal kid Niall said. The video wasn't the best quality, but it was enough.

He was talkative and made friends, but never wanted them over to hangout. Called them pawns, and weak minded. It was kinda cute, when he was little. But he kept on saying it. Finally, at home after his 11th birthday party, he complained to Mama that those kids at his party were so stupid, so easy to fool. She immediately turned and slapped hard across the face. Mama had a mean backhand, always kept her rings on when she did it too. I remember her telling him "Never underestimate anyone, raja. Never."

Our mother was always tough, but fair. Niall chuckled, and the sound distortion from the old video somehow made it sound bitterer than Niall had probably ever intended.

I suppose we never appreciated her enough before she passed. A strong woman, who didn't take anyone's bullshit. Our father was always the opposite. Calm, where she was angry, trusting, where she was cautious, and extragavent, where she knew to be frugal. Every time our mother hit us or yelled at us, our father would "make it up to us" Niall emphasized this point by motioning with his fingers, then laughed again. More like spoil us.

Little trips, meals outside the house, presents we couldn't afford. I used to think I was like my father, naive and giving, and that my brother was the hard one, the mama's boy. And in the end, I suppose that was true. But in the beginning there, the first few years without them, I think it was the opposite. I tried to be lenient with him, but in some ways, I was harder than Mama ever was.

"That seems a bit unnecessary." I told my brother as he attempted to squeeze the life out of me. The bulky PRT armor and standard issue rifle poking me in the ribs didn't exactly make it comfortable. I really hope he put the safety on after what happened in there.

"What, my hugging?" he giggled. Seriously, what grown ass man giggles? But somehow, my tough as nails PRT trooper of a brother did.

"I was more talking about that execution in there."

Niall pulled away and looked at me seriously. "Hellhound is a known dangerous parahuman with several murders on her record. She was exerting her power to its full extent and charged at us. We didn't have much choice, you know."

"Then what the hell are your foam sprayers for, if not for containing a dangerous Brute?" I snorted. He'll weasel out of this. He always does.

"Well one, she's classified as a Master, that just happens to make Brutes," he said, holding up a finger for each item in his list of bullshit, "Two, foam sprayers aren't exactly easy to bring while you're sliding down a rope Nikil. Three, they just don't have the stopping power to stop that much monster dog. It would have slowed Hellhound down, sure, but she still would have reached us, and still would have ripped us apart. Then what? You'd be an orphan, kamina."

I turned away and surveyed the scene. They'd brought out this big cart thing for the bodies; one Niall told me was designed for oversized Brutes. They were using it to move a big lump covered in black tarp out of the old warehouse's loading bay doors, and into the back of a PRT van. Bitch and her dog are under there, dead because I was stupid enough to get kidnapped.

I'd been the first thing they'd taken out of that warehouse. Easy, when you're rescuer is 6 and a half feet tall and bigger than most Brutes. Niall had grabbed me and rushed out of there. And started hugging me in the middle of the street. There goes any street cred taking out two supervillians would have gotten me.

Next out were Grue and Tattletale, hustled out on two gurneys by PRT medics. They'd wake up in the medical care (and custody) of the PRT, in their Brockton Bay headquarters by the beach. "If they're good little prisoners," my brother had told me, with a grin on his face "we'll get Panacea to look at those bullet holes. Or we might not. Nice shooting, by the way. I knew taking you to the range was a good idea."

More like a terrible idea. That Tattletale was pretty cute; I didn't want to shoot her. But I had had to. She should have stayed down.

Then, they brought out the evidence. The chair, the table, the bucket and the pistol and the bullet casings, even my school bag. All of it was loaded on to the forensics van, which was still awaiting the blood samples and fingerprints I knew were being collected in there.

I sighed. "Fine, you're right. I'm glad you shot her. At least it spared me the horrible experience of being an orphan."

Niall grimaced. Yeah, squirm you asshole. He put his arm around me and said "Look, I already took your statement; I can get one of the vans to drop you home. I'll submit my report to HQ, grab your bag from forensics, and bring a pizza home for dinner, ok? We can even watch one of those Earth Aleph shows you like."

I have to tell him, no more delaying. After this, he deserves to know. "Actually Niall, there's something I need to tell you." I adjusted my feet, and flexed my fingers. Nervous habit, I suppose. Why am I nervous? Just tell him, you pussy!

"I've been delaying, because I didn't know how you'd react, but after this... I had to tell you." I paused, readying myself to tell him.

"You're gay."

"What? No, you asshole-,"

"It's okay, I understand. You were afraid of how your older brother would react. I get it. What kid as deep in the closet as you wouldn't be scared? But newsflash, little brother. This is the 21st century. Legend is the leader of the Protectorate, gay marriage is legal in all 50 states, and I have, like, three gay friends-,"

"NO YOU FUCKER, I'M NOT GAY!" I sighed, trying to rein in my volume, so other people wouldn't over hear us. And he's still laughing.

I punched his stomach as hard as I could, and immediately prayed my hand was still in one piece. What's their armor made of, mithril? Somehow, he was laughing harder than before.

"Niall, I'm not gay," I said, calmer than I rightfully should have been, "I'm a parahuman."

He immediately stopped laughing, and pushed me further across the street, away from the other PRT troopers, who were still chuckling at my outburst. "Are you serious? What's your classification? Is that how you escaped?"

Typical PRT trooper, always gotta start interrogating. "Yes, Tinker, and no. I'm just awesome." I flashed him my best shit-eating grin.

"This is not something to fuck with me about!" he hissed. "It is very bad news for a PRT officer to not tell HQ of a suspected parahuman, especially family."

He sighed and pushed me over to the nearest van. "Let's go. I'm taking you to Piggot, and begging her not to fire me." With that said, Niall sat me down in the van, and quickly spoke to his CO in a whisper. His squad and he loaded up, and then we were on our way.

Well, that's about what I expected.

We slowed to a stop in what I knew to be the PRT garage. I couldn't see it, being in a windowless APC and underground and all, but I had seen it enough. A futuristic looking blocky structure made of glass and tungsten-steel alloy, with a great view of the ocean and the Boardwalk. And Leviathan crashing into them, should he ever come to town.

The doors opened, and we stepped out. Niall handed his helmet and rifle to a squad mate before putting his hand on my shoulder and guiding me to the elevator. "Come on. I already radioed the Director with the gist. She's expecting us. The less we keep 'The Pig' waiting, the better."

The fact that he still had a pistol communicated what I had already suspected. You're my prisoner. Don't do anything stupid.

The elevator ride up was uneventful. I'd never been up to the head offices before but my brother had described it to me well enough, and when the doors opened, I saw my brother wasn't bad at descriptions. The offices were laid out like a police station, open desks covered in stacks of paper, telephones and computers. There were doors around the mess, leading to personal offices, small conference rooms and to the Protectorate side of the building. On the far side of the room, across from the largest conference room, stood two heavy oak doors. The Pig's sty. Today, it seemed like everyone was in a rush, with several people running around with papers, a few yelling in phones, and the rest typing furiously into laptops.

"Is all this commotion just for me?" I asked Niall, as he led me across the room.

"No," he replied grimly. I think I preferred him laughing at me. "The mayor's niece has been kidnapped. It normally wouldn't be our department's problem, but her mother came out and told us that Dinah was a precog. One powerful enough for the group that kidnapped her to kill her father in front of her, and drag her out of the car, cut up from the windshield they'd shot out to get to her." He grinned at me, but his eyes were angry. "We live in such a great city, huh?"

I didn't reply, as we had reached our destination. The heavy oak doors. Niall knocked, and women's voice answered, "Enter."

I am already scared Emily, you need some chill.

I didn't think her description would be this accurate. Across the room, behind a large wooden desk, sat a larger woman. Obese and black, she wouldn't have been attractive, even if she wasn't trying to kill us with her stare. On the desk, one lone computer screed and telephone sat, next to a stack of papers and a jar of pens. Already got the paperwork ready to sign my life away, Pig?

"Sit, both of you." She waited while we did as she ordered then continued, "Officer Patel, your report."

Niall quickly gave his report, being extra official with all the extra 'yes ma'ams.' That ass-kissing is probably the only thing keeping us alive. Then Piggot turned to me. "Now Niall, tell me. You're a tinker, yes?" Not a question. "So, how is it that you were able to take down two supervillians, without any of your 'gear'?"

"Well, erm, ma'am, I distracted Tattletale with talking while I waited for the PRT to arrive. That bi- I mean, very not nice lady, really likes to talk. So, when my watch buzzed, I did the logical thing and kicked her in the crotch." I followed this little anecdote with my trademarked grin. Not the time Patel.

"Officer Patel's report states you were able to shoot Grue, twice, whilst inside his darkness. How?"

"Honestly ma'am, he was so close, I really couldn't miss. I knew where he was gonna charge from and just shot. I couldn't really miss Tattletale either. Niall taking me to the range probably saved my life though. Or at least my pretty face." Goddamnit, really? Can't you stop?

"Well we wouldn't want to lose that pretty face. Now Officer Patel, explain to me exactly why you did not inform me of the presence of a new parahuman not only in our city, but in your own home?"

Before brother dear could dig his own grave, I intervened. "Director Piggot, it was my fault. As a tinker, he would not have been able to find out I had triggered, unless he found my gear. But he works so much, you know, so he's never home long enough to do much more than eat and go to bed. Plus I never gave him reason to suspect anything. My trigger event wasn't exactly public you know," I gulped, and continued, trying to ignore her demonic gaze burrowing into my skull. "Please don't fire Niall. He's one of your best troopers, with more arrests and take downs than anyone else in the Brockton Bay branch. So please, don't fire him."

Now I'm begging. My shitty attempts at wit were probably more appropriate.

Piggot smiled "Thank your brother, officer. He just saved your ass. Now, I can't make you do this, but I strongly suggest you fill out these papers to make him a Ward. Wouldn't want to owe him another one, now would we?" With that, she leaned back in her chair, sated.

Yeah, yeah laugh it up Pig. I'll become way bigger than your fat ass could ever dream of.

"So," Niall said as he picked a pen out of the jar and started writing on the first form, "Still want pizza for dinner, fatso?"

"Just hurry up and sign, dumbass."