Wingspan 1.6

By the time we convinced somebody to fly us to Brockton Bay Leviathan was long gone. We couldn't even get a flight there. The closest we could get was Boston and then we had to drive the rest of the way.

In fairness the airport was partly underwater.

The landscape of our city was forever changed. A lake opened up where downtown used to be, the docks were thrashed, the boat graveyard found its wreckages on land and the rest of the city could give Venice a run for its money.

And it was raining. Water by itself I didn't mind as long as it wasn't moving. So the still water that now made up a majority of the city was fine. Didn't bother me. It was the rain that did it.

I held onto my arm to try to stop the shaking, but it was futile.

"This it?" Faultline asked.

I nodded and looked out the window of the Range Rover. Only off-road or 4WD vehicles stood a chance of navigating Brockton Bay for the next few weeks. Luckily Faultline's crew was well-equipped. The house we parked in front of was worn, but stood firm against the attack.

Faultline took me home.

I'd feverishly looked over the casualties list every time it was updated, but never came across the name of my dad. Nor anyone else I knew, though I was only looking for the name Hebert. There was a Herbert that gave me a quick scare, but that was it.

"I'd take your time," Faultline said. "Even if the PRT is still watching this place they won't follow up or arrest you. Not so soon after an Endbringer. To be honest it would be great if they did. The media would rip them to shreds for it."

That put my mind at ease a little but it wasn't the major issue. Neither Faultline nor Emma spoke as I stared at my house, the rain quietly pelting the hood of the SUV. There was a light on in the kitchen and living room. There were also planks over some of the windows and damage to the roof and yard, but overall our house had withstood fairly well.

I mustered up the courage to open the car door and unfolded my umbrella. My bones ached, my muscles trembled and my mouth was dry. I wouldn't have lasted long against Leviathan in his full fury. Faultline had been right.

The walk to my front door was long. Longer than I remember it being.

I took a deep breath and stared at the doorbell before pushing it. I could hear the cute little chime echo through the walls and some shuffling from the kitchen. A few seconds later the door opened.

"Hi dad."

He stared right into my red eyes. Then they drifted to my wings, then back down to the fangs hanging from my mouth before coming back to my eyes. He didn't say a word.

Until he pulled me into a tight hug.

"Taylor."

"D-Dad." I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face into his chest. Dammit. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know what—I just became this and I didn't know what to do so I just— I'm sorry."

I started crying. Dammit, Faultline is right over there in the car. I didn't want her to see me like this.

"It's alright, Taylor." He held on tight.

"N-No it's not. I'm a villain. I'm a villain and a monster and what I did to Emma and Dinah and—"

"Shhh. It's not your fault, kiddo."

We didn't move out of the door frame. I just let him hold onto me. For the first time in a month I felt like I'd come home and I didn't want to spoil the moment. We only broke the hug when our arms got tired. He reached out to pull the front door closed before I stopped him.

"Wait. My, ah... well, my ride is still out there..."

"Oh." Dad looked out to the SUV. "Do you want them to come in?"

I timidly nodded. I didn't actually want them to come, but they had to. All I wanted to do was sit with my dad on the couch and do something lame like play Scrabble all night. But I would have no such luck.

I waved at the SUV and gestured for them to come over. Faultline got out of the driver seat and opened an umbrella, escorting Emma out from the back.

"Emma Barnes?" Dad gasped. "But the news said that she died."

"H-Hi Mister Hebert..." She said softly, looking at me. I was wondering what she would refer to him by.

"I'll explain everything, dad." I said. "It's kind of a long story."

Faultline held out her hand towards dad. "Faultline," she said.

"You're the one who's been looking after my daughter."

"Yes. If you're aware the nature of my business I won't be offended if you tell me to leave, but it's wet and cold out here."

Dad took another look at me, then welcomed all of us inside. He cleared up the trash and old dishes around the couch and chairs so we could all sit down. It was a lot messier in here than I remembered.

Dad...

I sat next to him on the couch with Emma next to me. Faultline sat in the opposite chair. I didn't know where to begin but everyone was willing to wait for me to get my bearings.

"I guess I'll just start from that night I went missing," I said.

Describing it had been hard. I tried to lay out exactly what I'd been doing for the past month, from killing Emma to joining Faultline to finding out Emma wasn't really dead to the kidnapping and even Vegas. I had to check with Faultline a few times to make sure I didn't say anything she wanted to keep secret about what we were doing, but all she stopped me on was Cauldron stuff.

Most cape activities were fairly open anyways. I omitted the part about the date and gambling and how I had been drinking underage. None of that seemed terribly relevant. But everything else I said. Dad had sat there listening to me with a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, kiddo." He said at the end. "But is it really okay for you to be here?"

"For a few days," Fautline said. "No one will move to arrest her so soon after Leviathan. But we can't push it."

"Isn't there anything we can do? It was an accident and Emma is fine."

I shook my head. "She's really not fine, dad. She's my... I don't even want to say the word. She's my slave. The Protectorate won't let something like me just wander around when I can do that to people."

"But—"

Faultline held up her hand. "I apologize Mr. Hebert, but the cruel reality is that Taylor lost the power roulette. Some parahumans just can't be heroes and are too dangerous to leave alone as rogues. Even if you try to do the right thing and play it fair, one false step and your daughter will go to the Birdcage. I won't stop you, but it's not the smart play."

Dad was dejected. "But that's no reason to resort to things like kidnapping. Just because the heroes think you're a villain doesn't mean you have to be."

I didn't have a response to that. I hadn't wanted to kidnap Dinah. But I was new and Faultline's crew does any job short of assassination. I can't be a part of it without resorting to villainy. There isn't any other option.

"He's right, Taylor." Faultline said. I looked up at her. "The only reason you came to me was because you were lost and desperate. Though it wasn't my intention, you could think of it as me taking advantage of you. If you don't want to be in my crew then you don't have to be. Kidnapping, stealing, espionage. We've done it all and we'll continue doing it all." She stood up. "You have a few days. You should really think over what you want to do."

Faultline then excused herself and went back to wherever she called home, leaving just dad, Emma and me. I looked over at Emma. She sat quietly on the couch with a neutral expression.

"Emma, go to my room and wait for me."

As always, she obeyed without question. I watched her walk up the stairs, head to my room and close the door. I turned back to dad.

"See? That's not something a hero does."

Dad sighed. "I just want you to be happy, kiddo. But tell me honestly. Please. Are you really okay with kidnapping? I saw it all over the papers."

I was silent for awhile. If I wanted to stay with Faultline I would have to be. And yet the answer was obvious. "I'm not."

He smiled. "See? You're a good kid."

I leaned onto his shoulder. "I hope you're right."

"I am."

We spent the night silently watching the rain patter against the windows. It stopped around midnight. Dad said he would stay up with me, but I could tell he was getting tired around two in the morning. Because of the allergic-to-sunlight thing my sleep schedule was nocturnal now, but I was glad he stayed with me on the couch for as long as he did.

I put a blanket over him as he started snoring and turned down the volume on the DVD. It was some old Aleph movie I've already seen a thousand times. But that was alright. Once the credits started rolling I went up to my room. It's been awhile.

Dad left it exactly how I remembered. Everything was right where I had left it that night I went off to night school. A thin layer of dust had collected over everything.

Emma was sitting on the edge of my bed with her hands in her lap. When I entered she smiled and looked at me.

"What have you been up to?" I asked.

"Just waiting."

"That's it?" Dad and I had been hanging out for at least four hours. Had Emma really been sitting here this whole time?

"Yes. I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong, master?"

"N-No." I sighed. "Just feel free to entertain yourself if you want."

"Oh. Thank you." Emma looked down at her hands and I noticed they were shaking.

So were mine. Even after the rain stopped, I couldn't stop that trembling in my hands. It only solidified that my body was inhuman, ill, and nothing the doctors gave me had done anything. The only thing that had made me feel better was—

Oh no.

"E-Emma, answer me something."

"Anything."

"For the past few days, have you felt weak? Dry mouth, tremors, toothaches, headaches, aches and pains, anything like that?"

She nodded. "All of them."

Those were the symptoms I had a few months prior and were now resurging. I sighed and slouched down against the wall. Emma looked concerned and dashed over to help. I held her hand as she knelt by me, but it wasn't comforting. Both of us were broken.

My mouth had been dry in Vegas, but I attributed it to the hot weather. Headaches come and go too, as well as random aches.

But what if it wasn't the weather?

My chest got tight. What if I'm not going to feel better unless I master someone else?

It could be regular. There may not have been enough evidence to say for certain, but it could be. Fate might actually be that cruel to force me to master someone every month, or send me into withdrawl symptoms. Faultline was right.

The Protectorate was probably right. I could never be a hero like this. Even if I only targeted bad guys, the fact I might have to kill them and turn them into slaves would never permit me to be a hero.

And worse, Emma seemed like she was in the same boat.

Fuck me. I stared out my window. The rain had stopped a few hours ago, but I still felt just as awful. All I wanted to do was feel better. To not have to deal with a body that refused to just be normal.

"Emma, d-do you want to go out?"

"Alright."

She didn't even ask why. Honestly, I wasn't even sure why. I mean, I wasn't really going to find somebody and... do... something... was I?

I'm just going to go out and clear my head. Some fresh air might help.

I glanced at the clock. It was around three thirty in the morning. There were only two hours of night left. Emma and I snuck down to the front door and I grabbed the large umbrella leaning against the wall.

Sorry dad.

Emma and I left the house, gently closing the door behind us. The dripping of water echoed throughout the night.

"Master, there doesn't seem to be anybody about."

There really doesn't. Early morning right after Leviathan is a bit of a tall order.

I didn't know where I was going. Even if I was going to master somebody, it would have to be a bad person. The only names I had in my mind though were Lung and Bakuda. The two of them had been carted off to jail, but Leviathan had hit literally the next day. So they were released to help fight it.

And naturally they slipped away into the shadows after.

"Looking for someone?"

Emma and I had seen her standing there so it wasn't much of a surprise. Her outfit was black and lavender, and not that we needed it, but she was illuminated by a streetlight. I was amazed the light was still operational.

"You're... I forget."

She sighed. "Tattletale. My name is Tattletale. Thanks for remembering."

"You and Faultline had a thing, right?"

Tattletale coughed. "You make it sound like we dated. It wasn't anything like that, though you could say I have an intimate interest in her affairs. So, how's Shamrock working out?"

"How do you—"

"Thinker, don't try to work out the details. You'll get it wrong." Tattletale grinned. "That being said she isn't very interesting. A precog getting herself an unfair advantage in Vegas? Hardly an original idea. Naw, it's you two who I find a lot more interesting. Taylor Hebert and Emma Barnes. One of you is supposed to be dead, you know. I see you got better."

I lowered my stance. This Tattletale person was clearly itching for a fight or something because there was no way she was provoking us like this for fun.

"Well, actually I kind of am." She smiled as my mouth fell agape. "Thinker, remember? Anyways, some sort of master ability right? Looking for victims?"

"What do you want?" I asked. I saw why Faultline hated this person. Maybe I should just bite her. She probably deserves it.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm getting what I want just by standing here." She twirled the umbrella she held in her hand, shooting the water off around her. It missed Emma and me but both of us still cringed. "You're the one not getting what you want. Just thought I'd help, you know, one villain to another."

"I'm not dumb enough to think that."

Tattletale reached into her costume and pulled a folded sheet of paper out of her pocket. "My team was going to hit the Merchants and rob them blind tonight, hence my actually being awake at this god awful hour. Skidmark and Squealer. They're pretty bad fucking people, Taylor. Getting kids hooked on meth, peddling drugs, promoting addiction. I have their address here if you want it. Our job will be easier if they are, ah, not able to wake up for our rather loudly-planned theft."

She waved the paper in front of my face. Tempting me.

"Those aren't the only Merchant capes," I said.

"You only need two though, right?" Tattletale kept waving the paper.

I took it. What else could I do? Somebody had to be targeted. The least I could do is chose somebody who deserved it. Rather do it now when I can control myself rather than let loose on an innocent like I did Emma.

Right?

"Glad we can be friends," Tattletale said. "Tell Faulty I said hi."

I looked at the address written on the paper as Tattletale vanished into the shadows. Some old warehouse in the docks.

At a brisk jog Emma and I were there in half an hour. The streets were completely empty. While I was never the one to go out and wander around this late, I knew that there was usually at least some activity in Brockton Bay. But there was nothing.

Especially by the docks, where half the warehouses had already been abandoned before Leviathan. Now? Now the only people that lingered here were drug peddlers.

Fuck me, I was getting excited. Emma and I found Tattletale's warehouse and quietly snuck in through the large open doors. There were no distinctive markings other than the actual address, which was still plastered on the side.

The warehouse had a large open floor which was completely deserted, but there was a smaller room suspended in a corner. A break room if I had to guess. If Skidmark and Squealer were living here, it would be up there.

Neither Emma nor I made a sound as we walked across the scrap-filled floor of the warehouse. Even as we walked up the metal stairs our footsteps barely sounded. Was this another part of my power? Stealth? Or maybe I was very light. I had the ability to fly after all.

I should weigh myself.

"That's gross," Emma whispered. I followed her gaze into the small break room and was forced to agree. Skidmark and Squealer were there naked, lying in some disgusting mattress together. No one wants to see that. A glance around the room verified no one else was there.

I took a deep breath and slipped into the room, Emma quick behind me. Skidmark and Squealer didn't stir, drugged up on who knows what. This was too easy.

I pointed at Skidmark and Emma drifted over next to him while I hunched over Squealer.

It was bad form to attack other capes while they slept, but I wasn't going to wake them up just to be noble. "Master," Emma whispered. "Are we going to do what you did to me?"

I stared at Squealer. Were we? My mouth was dry and my fangs ached. The thought of digging them into Squealer's neck appealed to me. I could imagine the taste of her blood running down my throat and I remembered how fantastic I had felt when I did it to Emma.

Emma was waiting for me to respond.

"Do you want to?"

Emma looked down at Skidmark, then back up me. "Will it make me feel better?"

"Yes."

She looked down at Skidmark again. Slowly she leaned down, covered his mouth with her hand and swiftly bit into his neck.

I didn't expect her to act so quickly. Skidmark woke instantly attempting to scream, but only soft muffles escaped his mouth. I followed Emma's lead, not having much choice now, and bit into Squealer. She struggled but couldn't escape my grasp. Squealer's warm blood poured out of her wound down my throat, spilling over the warehouse floor.

The first time I did this I wasn't in my right mind. It had been a dream. Madness had overtaken me.

But this time I was perfectly lucid. How morbid of a thing I was doing right now was perfectly clear.

But the blood pouring down my throat was delicious. It tasted so good and each gulp gave me a burst of energy. It didn't take more than thirty seconds for the two of them to go limp. Emma and I lapped up the rest of the blood before standing, looking over the scene we had caused.

It was a mess.

"Time to leave," I said quietly.

We slipped out of the warehouse without a sound and didn't encounter a single person on the entire walk back to my house. The only stop we made was to wash the blood off in one of the many puddles that had formed in the city.

Emma started laughing.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so—so happy." There was a wide smile across her face. "I feel so good. I haven't felt this good in a month."

I, too, felt refreshed. My body felt like mine again. I was in perfect control. Invincible. I could run a thousand miles and not even break a sweat. The shakes and aches had vanished.

But euphoria aside, we had to go back to my house.

We wiped our feet on the mat before going back inside to my room. I wanted to bathe but didn't want to wake Dad so I decided to put it off until the next day.

"Where should I sleep, master?"

"The floor should be fine. I have an extra blanket."

"Okay."

I gave Emma my quilt and a pillow. I never used them anyways. She drifted off to sleep quickly and I stared at her. For the past month she had been my lone follower and, in some respects, my dirty little secret.

Her sleeping face reminded me of the sleepovers we used to have.

Would Squealer come crawling to me as well? Call me master and obey me without question? Probably.

Skidmark would come back too. Would he also be enslaved? And would it be to me, or to Emma? Would Emma and I become a group of four? And next month, would we be eight?

I knew enough math to know how bad that could get. Tomorrow I would need to speak with Faultline about it, but I put it out of my head so I could fall asleep. No solutions ever came from laying in bed. It didn't take long for me to drift off to sleep.

I awoke to the sound of Dad shouting mid-morning.

"You can't just barge in here. This is my house!"

Ugh, what was going on? Had Squealer arrived or something? I wouldn't think she would be so forceful to make him shout like that.

"Mr. Hebert, please. Your daughter is a fugitive. If you're harboring her—"

"You can't do this."

Oh no. That wasn't Squealer, that sounded like the PRT. What happened to my grace period, Faultline?

"Emma, wake up." I hissed. She spun around. "Get under the bed, hurry. Don't make a sound."

Without retort Emma rolled under my bed, pulling the quilt and pillow under with her. That was smart of her. I hadn't even thought of that.

There would be time to worry about her possibly being smarter than me later.

"Sir, don't make me arrest you."

I sighed and opened the door to my room, walking down the hallway in full view of the PRT agents.

"Taylor," he exclaimed.

"Don't arrest him," I said to the agent. "He didn't do anything."

I didn't resist as the agent cuffed me with some special type of handcuff and escorted me out into the prison van. There were a few heroes surrounding the house as well as a few media vans. There wouldn't be a point in resisting even if I could escape in the broad daylight.

They got me.