1.8 Emma

"Emma, can I come in?" Taylor? What? Why? "Emma, we need to talk. Please, let me in."

Taylor sounded, normal. Her normal weak, miserable self. So that whole thing downstairs was an act! She knew it! But, why break the act now? Emma put her guard back up. Taylor was still acting; she must be, playing some sort of little game.

"Emma? I know you can hear me. Please let me in."

"Fine fine, hold your horses you pathetic girl." Emma decided to let her in. First, turning her away would be a sign of weakness, and she couldn't afford any more of those, and second she would be more free to act one on one than surrounded by adult witnesses. Plus, if Taylor wanted to talk, there was no danger in hearing her out. If she was lucky, she might even be able to figure out what was going on with Taylor. So, she unlocked the door and opened it before going to sit on her bed. Taylor really had returned to normal, or at least put on a good act of doing so. She looked so hesitant, so concerned just to be stepping through the door. "Well, hurry the heck up, I don't have all day."

Taylor gathered her courage, or at least she gathered enough to step through the door and close it behind her. They were alone, and Taylor looked scared. Not fear fear though, more of a nervous anxiety, like someone with stage fright about to try and play a role. "Hey Emma."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Taylor you must be more brain damaged than I thought. We said our hello's ages ago. You said you wanted to talk? Well, if you have anything meaningful to say spit it out. Otherwise, I have no intention of repeating this wasted evening over again." Heh, she could see the barbs were stinging now. She had the power again.

"I-if you insist. I guess there's no rea- no real reason to delay this any further." At that Taylor closed her eyes, and once again that strange, un-pinable thing changed with her face. "Emma, you and Taylor, sorry, we were friends, right? Tell me."

"Yes." Something subtle had changed in Taylor's voice. It had become more commanding and confident, but something even subtler was off. Her voice was just slightly different, like someone was pretending an accent. Still, something about that voice had compelled her to answer, and before she could even consider that fact, the questions continued.

"Tell me honestly, was our friendship ever real to you?"

"Yes. You were, and still are, the best friend I ever had."

That surprised Taylor, and Emma was shocked at her candor. It felt good however, in some deep place in her heart, to finally admit that out loud. "Well, for someone who's supposedly the 'best friend you ever had', don't you think you've done some pretty shitty things to her- I mean to me?"

"The things I've done to you are terrible. It was so hard to start and keep doing it. To overcome the guilt."

"You felt guilty?"

"Initially. It was so hard at first. Every mean thing we did was like a dagger in my heart. It was so painful to make you suffer."

"Do you still feel guilty little girl?"

To that question, Emma needed to stop and think on it awhile. "I, I don't think so. I mean, I sometimes get these flashes of sympathy for you, but more or less I think I've purged that weakness from me."

"Well, I can certainly understand the desire to be strong. But burning useful bridges seems an awfully strange way to go about it." There was a bit of a pause. "Oh, right, don't worry I'm getting there. Emma, you should feel very guilty, betraying your best friend, betraying me, like that. Feel very guilty for what you've done. Certainly there must be enough humanity left in you to feel the crushing guilt you should feel?"

A wave of guilt was already washing through her, a level of agony she hadn't felt in some time. "Yes, I horribly regret what I've done."

"There, I knew our bond was too strong for you to have cut it like you claimed. You were just suppressing it. But, like I said, the bridges are burned, and I don't think either of us has any intention of rebuilding them. But, there is one thing I would like to know, before you leave my life and I yours: why. What bloody thing could motivate you to turn on an old, dear friend like Taylor? If you tell me, I'm sure it would relieve some of this guilt you've built up. Tell me why."

Emma could barely restrain her answer, so eager was she to be freed of this overbearing guilt. "It started when Sophia rescued me and my father from the ABB. Before she rescued me, she waited, to see how I would respond, to see if I was a victim or a survivor. She saw me as a survivor, so she beat up all the ABB thugs and rescued me. After that I decided to purge my old weak self, which included you."

"Wait, Sophia beat up a bunch of gang members by herself? How?"

"Well, she is Shadow Stalker after all. Wait, I guess you didn't know that. Dammit! I shouldn't have told you, now she's going to be mad and we'll no long be friends-"

"Quit. Be calm. Good. Sophia won't mind. But, I think we're going to need you to go into a bit more detail on these things."

And so she did. Every question, she answered to the best of her ability, and it felt like they covered everything: her reasoning for the start of the bullying, the details of how she met Sophia, how Sophia came to be in the wards, that man Sophia had accidentally killed, and some of the bad things she had done which the wards weren't aware of. Emma had to admit it was oddly liberating to get all of this off her chest.

To be honest, they both lost track of time, and it was a surprise to both of them when Sophia walked in.

"Hey Emma, who's that guy your parents are talking – Taylor. What are you doing with Taylor?"

"Oh, high Sophia. We were just talking about your various misdeeds as Shadow Stalker."

". . ." It took a while, but Sophia finally registered what Emma said, and she sprang into action and rushed Taylor, grabbing her by the collar.

"What do you know you little pathetic wor-"

"Stop!" Taylor yelled, and Sophia did. Emma too, though she didn't really notice. "Put me down, close the door, and sit down on the bed like a good little girl."

And, surprisingly, Sophia did. From her face, she seemed as surprised as anyone. Taylor rubbed her cast hand a bit, mumbling about unnecessary roughness with a cripple. Then Taylor let out a frustrated grown.

"Yes, your right your right. There's no way they're going to write this off as a spontaneous onset of conscience. No, I don't have an idea right now. It would be helpful if you could be quiet and let me think for a bit."

A call then came from downstairs. "Taylor, hun, it's getting late and I think it's time we go home."

Taylor gave a "fuck" under her breath. She went to the door and opened it, and Taylor's voice change to something more naturally Taylor. And at that moment it felt like a fog started to lift from Emma's mind. Her previous actions, which seemed sensible before, became confusing, her emotions foreign to her. She was about to voice her confusion, when she saw Sophia, finger to her mouth in the universal quiet sign.

Slowly, with Taylor's back still turned, preoccupied with asking her father for a bit more time, Sophia's hand reached down to her pocket. Her Ward phone! That's what she was going for! Emma knew this, or deducted such, and while she couldn't quite figure out why, she knew this was a very good thing.

"Stop!" Taylor yelled this mid turn, and Sophia froze, hands an inch in her pocket. Taylor's voice was very off. She spun back around, and her voice became more normal, but still slightly wrong. "Sorry Danny, I mean dad. I need to check something with Emma and Sophy. Wait a bit."

Taylor then shut the door and to talked to herself. "I'm sorry. Stop yelling at me, yes I probably controlled your father a bit. But it was necessary. If you could shut up for 10 seconds, I can show you. Sophy, what were you doing?"

Sophia seemed hesitant to answer. Whatever was stopping her didn't last more than a second or two. "I was about to press the panic button on my Ward phone."

"Why were you doing that?"

"Because you were mastering us."

"Bloody hell, I hate that verb. Why were you able to do so, if I was mastering you."

"When you turned around, when your voice changed, your control broke." Emma nodded in agreement with Sophia. That sounded about right to her as well. Wait. Taylor was mastering them? Was that even a proper verb?

"When my voice changed? What do you mean when my voice. . . oh. Fuck me. Fuck this shit. Fuck this whole bloody fucking situation." Taylor turned to the wall and began kicking it. "My power fucking turns off. When I change places the power fucking turns off. I can't just not give new commands, my old ones cancel. God damn this all to hell. This is fucked up."

Emma didn't really pick up on the details though, more concerned with figuring out how to fuck Taylor. She didn't quit have it all figured out yet, but taking off her cloths seemed a good first step, so she started unbuttoning her shirt, while Sophia was starting on the jeans.

Taylor, still looking at the wall, stopped kicking it, and sighed, resting her head on the wall in defeat. "Stop undressing. Just, sit on the bed, be quiet, and don't do anything. I'll be right back after I sort some things out with the parents."

Taylor was only gone for a little while, before she returned and locked the door behind her.

"OK, here's the deal little darling girls. It took a little convincing, but I've convinced them that, after our little talk, we've worked out a bunch of our issues and our friendship is on the mends, so the three of us are going to have a sleepover. Danny boy is going to be spending the night as well, in the guest bedroom, but he's going to be sleeping like a rock, no issue there. Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be getting all that much sleep, given the work to be done. So, straight to the biggest issue. Sophia: do you think Taylor, me, has powers?"

"Yes."

"What do you think they are?"

"The ability to make people do things simply by telling them, so far with no obvious limits to the number and duration of control. However, there seems to be some sort of on/off switch to the power, and for some reason you find it desirable to have it off. You definitely have master powers."

"Hm, painfully close. Now, of your own free will, would you keep my power a secret?"

"No."

"Ah, as I figured. That 'no' is very much a problem. But, well, we have all night to turn that 'no' into a 'yes'. Emma, fix your shirt and make us some coffee or whatever the hell your house has with caffeine in it. We have a long night ahead of us."