A/N: Warning: This gets dark.
Insinuation 4.01
I spared a glance at the calendar on my wall, March 28th circled and marked in my dad's handwriting: Arcadia. Three days until high school resumed. In some ways it would be a fresh start; in others, it would be a dangerous return to rote.
"Skitter? Focus, please."
I looked back to the computer, where Miss Militia was resting her chin on her fist. "Sorry, Militia," I said sheepishly, blushing beneath my mask. "I'm just really tense."
"That's completely understandable. But please, pay attention. I only have so much free time and I'd rather not have it wasted." I winced at that subtle admonishment. "Where were we? Oh, right. You're in Homeroom 4, along with the Dallon sisters. We put Cerberus in Homeroom 6, which has the same lunch schedule, since she'll need support from her friends. Regent is in Homeroom 1; as a junior, his schedule doesn't sync well with yours." Her eyes crinkled in a soft smile. "Honestly, I think you'll be just fine. Did you manage to download the books?"
I nodded. "Thank you for setting me up with a Wards policy. The discount really helped, and I got audiobooks for Cerberus."
Miss Militia's smile widened. "That's wonderful. And it was Deputy Rennick who got you set up. I may be Protectorate liaison to the Wards, but I don't have authority over PRT resources."
"Well, please pass along my thanks, and thank you for taking the time to chat with me. I always enjoy our talks," I said honestly.
"So do I. I'd like to–" She was cut off when Lisa hollered my name, the blonde's tone rather urgent. "...You should probably attend to that. I'll talk to you later." The brunette logged out of video chat.
"One second," I called down the hall as I changed out of my costume. While Miss Militia knew my civilian identity, she was drilling it into me that it was good policy to always be in costume for cape business. I shut the costume away in my closet's false back panel and threw on some shorts and a V-neck shirt, still just barely fitting my hair through the collar. "Okay, I'm coming!"
I jackhammer-bounced down the stairs like Bluto from Animal House. I sent some bugs ahead to see what was up, and found Lisa standing tensely in the front room. Opposite her was a tall, gangly, knobby-limbed boy with a mop of beige curls atop his head. The visitor was someone I recognized instantly even through my insects' meager understanding of human appearances. I paused on the stairs. What was Greg fucking Veder doing at my house?
At first I thought Lisa must have made a mistake in letting him in, but then I remembered who I was thinking of: Lisa wasn't careless enough for that. Greg must have said or done something that led to her bringing him inside and shutting the door. I clenched my fists and took a deep, calming breath. Just to be safe, I reached out to Atlas and kept him on standby to draw away stress. Moving much more slowly, I descended the last flight of stairs to stand beside Lisa.
"H-hi, Taylor," Greg smiled. Nervous but excitable, just as I remembered him.
I didn't return the smile. "Greg, what are you doing here?"
"He told me he knew your secret, at which point I yanked him in," Lisa explained.
"The secret that I'm Skitter?" I scoffed and tossed a lock of my mutant hair. "Yeah, big secret. I just didn't want people knowing until I had a proper headquarters and the Undersiders got their pardons. The question I have is, how the hell did you find me? I never gave anybody at Winslow my new address."
Greg shrugged. "When I saw you weren't at your old place, I looked up recent purchases on Zillow and found this place in your dad's name." Shit, that was actually kind of clever. Now I was more thankful than ever that Atlas was in the basement, in case villains tried the same trick.
"And you thought it was a good idea to walk up to a cape's house and blab that you know her identity?" Lisa folded her arms and glowered down at him as best she could, considering he had a few inches on her.
"I was hoping I could be your backup." His chipper attitude hadn't been dampened in the slightest. "New Wave has their law firm, the Protectorate has the PRT; the Undersiders need non-capes to help 'em out, right?"
My luminous eyes narrowed. "Veder, you do realize I'm a former villain, right? A former villain you're essentially outing? What's to stop me from just gutting you and dumping your body in my basement? I'm sure Atlas could use the snack."
Apparently Greg didn't think I was serious, because he just smirked. "C'mon, Taylor, you wouldn't do that to an old friend, would you?"
Oh, how I wished the world had a pause button. I would have loved to have a few extra hours to process that. Old friend? Greg thought we were old friends? Why, because he pseudo-stalked me throughout high school and asked me out one time?
Lisa stepped in front of me just as my mouth started working on its own. "Old friend? What the fuck have you ever done to be my friend, Greg? You hid whenever I tried to bring up my bullying. You never once stood up for me. You asked me out just after I'd gotten done crying my eyes out!" I felt my ribcage bump Lisa's shoulder and realized I'd been stalking forward.
The curly-haired boy blinked, his confusion seeming genuine. "If I'd spoken up, they'd have just ganged up on me too. It's not like it'd make a difference–"
"It would have made a difference to me!" My voice had cracked but I didn't care. "Maybe if I'd known I wasn't alone, that even one person was there to defend me, maybe I would've had the courage to fight back sooner! Maybe I wouldn't have become this!" I extended the claws on my right hand.
"But you look badass! And you're powerful enough to take down Lung!"
Good god, he really didn't get it. I was equal parts insulted and pitying. A cape geek like him not realizing the damage trigger events did? Or did he just not care, since he hadn't been the one to suffer? I pushed forward again and Lisa turned and looked at me, her green eyes locking on my orange spheres. We were practically having a conversation just through our gaze.
I can't let you go off the handle.
I won't.
You're upset.
I can control myself. I need to vent.
I'm with you.
I stalked around Lisa and grabbed two handfuls of Greg's shirt, slamming him up against the door. "Do you understand," I hissed through clenched teeth, "what a trigger event is? How it occurs?" A deep, inhuman growl tore free from my throat when I saw him nod. "And you think that's a good thing? That I suffered a psychotic break? That I was in a coma? That I look in the mirror every day and see a monster!?" I jerked him back and then plastered him against the door once again.
"But you're not a monster! You're beautiful! I've always thought so!"
Sweet crispy Jesus, he actually had feelings for me? "Alright, forgetting everything else you didn't do, you couldn't even be fucking bothered to send me a 'Get Well Soon' card after I got out of the hospital!?" I didn't give him a chance to respond, a nightmarish scream of rage erupting from me.
In an instant Lisa was between the two of us, pushing me back. While I doubted she could really move me, I didn't want her getting hurt in the crossfire so I relented.
"Fuck me, Taylor, get ahold of yourself! I know this is dredging up a lot of the demons from your past, but calm your tits!" Lisa's face was less than an inch from mine. Two sets of instincts – human and insect – warred within me. In the end, the human side won out and I took another step back.
The blonde turned back to Greg, whose face was now a mask of confusion and fear. Perhaps he'd finally realized what a literal and metaphorical hornet's nest he'd stirred up. "Now, seriously, what the hell were you thinking? You'd just walk up, say, 'Hey there, Taylor! It's me, the creeper you barely know! I know your secret so let's be friends'?"
The boy opened his mouth to retort but Lisa steamrolled him, dipping into her power. "How can you think of yourself as her friend? You did nothing to support or protect her, yet you think yourself entitled to her affection? She should go out with you because you're both outcasts? You claim to care about her yet can't make the smallest effort or sacrifice on your part!" She paused, letting her words sink in, then softened her tone. "Greg, you're self-centered in the extreme. That's not an insult, but a statement. You don't expend any thought or care on other people yet expect them to do for you what you won't for them. I suggest you go home, take a long look in the mirror, and think about what you're doing – or not doing – that makes people react so negatively to you."
She opened the door for him. "Taylor thinks your a bad person, but I don't. I think you're just a stupid kid who needs to grow up. If you can figure out where you're going wrong and are willing to make a change, I think you'll be a decent guy. But no, you'll never have a chance with Taylor."
Greg turned back to her, looking over her shoulder at me, and opened his mouth.
Lisa dug her nails into his shoulder hard enough to make him yelp. "You've burned that bridge. Fuck, you nuked it. Just leave it and try to make your own life. And no, you don't need to worry about Taylor. She'll be outing herself soon enough, and she has the Undersiders, her dad, and me to keep her safe." She gave him a shove out and locked the door behind him.
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
Lisa make a textbook rockstar knee-slide to end up beside me, hugging me close. "Shh, it's alright. It's okay. I know." She petted my hair.
"I wanted to h-hurt him," I whimpered. "If you hadn't been there...what's wrong with me?"
"No, Taylor, you're not a monster," Lisa whispered, nipping that particular train of thought in the bud. "You're a traumatized girl who's still recovering from three nightmarish years." She kissed my temple. "You were confronted by someone who didn't know or care about your pain but claimed to understand you. Anybody would be insulted, but add lingering psychological scars on top of that and you've got a recipe for even the most peaceful person to become violent." She looped my arm over her shoulders. "C'mon, let's – mrf – let's get you over to the couch. You can just rest for a while."
"I'm fucking pathetic," I chuckled at myself.
"Not at all. Fighting villains, murderers and giant monsters? That's easy. Living life is hard." Lisa got me seated on the sofa. "You're strong, Taylor. You're a good person. And you're pretty cute to top it off." She winked at me. "I'll get some tea brewing. Feel free to lay down if you need it. You need a blanket?" I didn't reply but it seemed she figured out the answer anyway. "I'll get you a blanket too."
I let myself slump. For the first time, I found myself wishing that things weren't going so well. Brian and Aisha were house-hunting, Rachel was making the rounds with her shelters and she'd conscripted Alec to help her with the paperwork, and dad was overseeing a citywide water-pipe overhaul.
I wanted them all here, to hold me and make me feel safe. I even wanted Emma.
I wanted mom.
(BREAK)
I was lethargic well into the night, utterly exhausted from the surge of emotion and old pains. I went to bed early and dad tucked me in. I ended up crying myself to sleep. Self-pity and self-disgust warred for control of my dreams as all my old repressed fears came out to play.
Alexandria leading a hunt for my head.
The Slaughterhouse 9 coming to recruit me.
Coil taking my father hostage to use me as a tool.
Sophia looming over me, that familiar hateful sneer playing across her face as she smothered me. Wait, this isn't a dream... I clawed at her arm, but whatever drug she was forcing me to inhale had already worked too well and my fingers were too numb to find purchase. My vision blurred and I knew no more.
(BREAK)
Cold.
So fucking cold.
I tried to huddle in on myself and discovered that I was bound by chains. I whimpered and shivered, which brought about the next horrific realization: I was naked.
Panic forced my eyes to focus, melting through the drug-induced haze. I was in a concrete-floored basement, chained to a metal chair. With the toppled shelves and various bits scattered around, I presumed this was the basement to a store that had been vacated in the war and wasn't yet cleared for business again.
Okay, Taylor. Rein it in. Don't panic. What would Lisa do? I took in a deep breath, reaching out for Atlas. I could feel him, at the very edge of my consciousness. I couldn't quite control him; apparently he was out of my range, but I could still siphon my stress into him. I wasn't sure at all if it would work, but I tried to send a mental command: Come.
I twisted my wrists, feeling the chains around them. They were secured around my wrists, bound so tightly that pain was beginning to register as my conscious mind continued to return to me. My ankles were likewise secured, the chains padlocked to the chair and one another, a psychopath's version of the hog-tie.
I couldn't see any door or stairs, which meant the exit must be behind me. Try to turn around, but don't make noise. Easier thought than done: the chair didn't have rubber feet, so the metal tubes made a horrendous scraping noise against the concrete. I stopped almost immediately.
My power was coming back. Now it wasn't just Atlas I could sense. Bugs everywhere, I tried to draw them to my position. No good, at least not yet. The entire building had been doused in some sort of highly potent insecticide, so crawlers were right out. Additional scent packs and smokers were set upstairs to disorient or kill my fliers. Shit, this was very well-planned.
I heard a door open behind me, stairs creaking. Two sets of creaking stairs. Two people.
"Your lazy ass is finally awake, huh?" Sophia. "I was starting to think you might disappoint me and not wake up."
"Of course it's you, Hess," I sneered. "You'd need to tie me up beforehand, make sure I can't fight back. Pussy." Outside, I changed my plan of action. I sent the bugs out as far as I could. Swarms of flies, illuminated by fireflies, hovered above the building and in the general area: 911, above an arrow pointing to the store. Ants and other crawlers, similarly, set up signs on streets, sidewalks, walls, and inside any building I could get them into.
My world blurred, pain the only constant. Sophia had struck me with something heavy and metallic. A pipe, maybe, or a wrench.
"What's the plan, Hebert? Make me cry until I let you go?" She brought the monkey wrench down on my knee and only my subdermal reinforcements kept the joint from breaking outright, though I did cry out in pain. "You need to understand your place, Taylor. No matter how much power you might have, you're still fucking prey." She flicked open a switchblade.
The second person grabbed me by the hair, yanking back as hard as they could. I thought the tendrils were going to rip from my head, but they didn't. Instead, the person – now I could see she was a large, stocky and ugly girl – held my head in place.
Sophia loomed over me. "Let's start by reminding you of what you are for the rest of your life." She lowered the blade toward me.
I screamed as the metal pierced my flesh, carving into my forehead. She was cutting letters into my head. I thrashed my body as best I could, tried to turn my head away, but the other girl was strong and had leverage. Blood ran down my head and into my eyes.
I gasped for air. I had to get talking again, had to stall her until help could arrive. "You're a joke," I wheezed. "Y'see, I learned some more about trigger events and powers. And yours, Sophia, is all about running away. You talk tough, say you're a predator, but you're just a fucking cowa–"
The wrench crashed into my jaw and my head snapped to the side. My neck screeched with pain while my jaw refused to work right. As I tried to talk through a bitten tongue and cottonmouth, I realized my mandible was dislocated. Maybe even broken.
I forced myself to laugh through the pain. "You can't take the truth," I taunted her, though my words were horribly slurred. "Does your friend here know what a pussy you are? How you run away from any fight you can't rig?"
Sophia grabbed me by the neck, her eyes burning with hate. She drove the knife into my gut, all the way to the hilt. And then again. "Laugh all you want, Hebert. You're going to die here, crying in your own blood." Her voice was cold and sharp as the steel of the knife.
"Soph," the other girl said in a voice far more high-pitched than I would have expected, "can we just kill her? I don't know how long the anti-bug stuff will last and I'd rather not get swarmed with spiders."
"Not yet!" Sophia's voice was as close to a roar as the standard human larynx could get. "This little cunt needs to know her place before she dies! I want to see her broken!" She took the wrench in both hands and swung it like a golf club, right into my ribcage.
I felt one of the bones crack and gritted my teeth, trying not to scream. I yelped in surprise instead as the impact sent me tumbling backward until the other girl caught the chair and set me upright again. The shock made my reservoir churn. Wait, I can feel my reservoir again! Change of plans. I just needed to stall a bit longer.
"You'll never break me, Sophia. Because you're weak. You're a coward and a broken excuse for a person. You're a failure in every way, Sophia Hess." I tugged at my chains, wanting them to focus on my limbs. "I'm going to kill you."
Sophia let out a deep belly laugh at that. "You don't have the guts for that, Hebert!" She struck me in the elbow and the joint snapped. "Lara, get the kerosene!"
I couldn't hold back the scream as my arm broke. "I've been through so much in my life, Hess," I snarled. "You don't even rate as an annoyance. You're a parasite, and I won't even bat an eye when I squash you."
Reality went red and black. I could hear myself wailing in agony. Sophia tore the knife out of my skull and my vision swam. I could only see out of one eye. She'd gouged my eye out! Blood and tears ran down my face as I choked on sheer pain.
"Shut UP, you stupid bitch! I'm going to carve you up into little pieces and mail your parts to your dad, one chunk at a time!" She stabbed me in the stomach, a shallow cut, and dragged it down to my pelvis. Her smile would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. "They say nobody wants to die a virgin..." She drew her hand back, winding up.
Come on, body! Please! I could feel that my reservoir was using most of the slime in an attempt to regenerate the damage like it had done when Panacea healed me. Through tremendous force of will, I gathered some of it and shaped it. She was too close for me to safely use bomb-bugs without getting caught in the spray. I went for yellow widows instead.
I glared defiantly at her and let out a guttural scream. My jaw unhinged itself and a swarm of enraged mutant insects issued forth from my throat, driving their deadly stingers at the two women. Sophia drove the knife into me as retaliation before she turned into the black cloud, while Lara hurled the tank of kerosene at me. It struck me in my broken arm and knocked me over, the pungent liquid spilling over and around me.
Sophia threw a lighter at me, the rectangle flicking open and coming to life as it solidified. The kerosene erupted in flame and the licking heat engulfed me. The pain was overwhelming, omnipresent, yet I felt no real damage. I guessed that Lisa must have been right about my honeycombs. I tried to roll on the ground, shifting the chair but ineffectually.
My widows, dying from the heat and smoke, continued to impale Lara and inject her with their deadly payload. She wouldn't survive the night.
The wall exploded inward. Glory Girl had crashed through, and Shielder was following close behind. Sophia, still in her shadow form, tried to escape by rushing past them.
No.
I focused on Shielder, aiming as best I could, and spat a single bomb-bug. He raised a forcefield out of reflex just in time to save his life, the living explosive bursting against it in a shower of neon green that actually tried to eat through the energy field. More importantly, however, was where that shower of green ended up. The deadly alkaline rained down onto – and through – Sophia's Breaker form.
One moment she was an amorphous mass, the next she was on the ground gurgling out pitiful screams, pieces of her separated or missing altogether. The screams died as her lungs melted away, and she gave her death rattle.
"Oh my god, Skitter..." Glory Girl scooped me up, heedless of the fire on my body, and lifted me into the air. "We'll get you help. Just, please, hold on..."
I felt the wind on my naked form as we flew.
