4.1 HFC
December is terrible.
It wasn't the cold. Or the snow. Bundling in a big, fur coat and walking around Brockton Bay was lovely, and returning to a fire and hot chocolate even more so. But big, fur coats are not fashionable. Not when it's truly cold.
No one is intimidated by a little girl in a coat too big for her.
I groaned and stared up at the mounted television. The waitress noticed who I was and brought the food quickly enough, but I wish she hadn't. Then I would just be a cute high schooler rather than the cute holy-shit-it's-the-director-of-HFC. Or whatever thought ran through the waitress's mind when she suddenly started stuttering and ran back to the kitchen with my order.
Though it was a fun feeling in its own right.
"Maddy, you're frowning."
Dinah sat next to me and stared at my face instead of eating her food. "Sorry," I said. "Just mad that the damn weather gets to decide my outfit rather than me."
Dinah didn't know how to respond to that and went back to her burger. In front of me was a salad and across the table was a chicken sandwich. Its owner ate it with slow bites, clearly trying to muster up the courage to tell me what she came here for.
"So, Charlotte." I said. "I know we were in a lot of the same classes but we weren't friends. There's going to be a limit to what you can leverage out of that very loose relationship we have."
Charlotte bit her lip and set down her fork. But the edge of my comment was taken off by the coat I wore. Even inside the restaurant I still had to wear it. Their heating sucked.
Charlotte buried her hands in her lap and refused to meet my gaze. "Um. I'm sorry, Madison. I... well, I kind of wanted to speak to Taylor, but I didn't know how to contact her."
Well yeah, that was obvious. Taylor was one of the most important people in Brockton Bay. Maybe even top twenty in America. People like that can't be called up on the phone to chat. There are armies of assistants and secretaries between someone like her and people like Charlotte.
I guess I was one of those people. "I'm pretty sure she hates everyone from Winslow. You're barking up the wrong tree."
Charlotte shook her head. "That's not—I mean. I don't want money or anything."
Dinah tugged on my sleeve. "Maddy you're being mean."
"Sorry, sorry." I laughed it off and ruffled her hair. She put her hands on her head defensively and pouted. "Well," I said turning back to Charlotte. "What exactly is it you want?"
It took her a while to form the sentence. As soon as she said it I understood the hesitation that precluded it. It wasn't something anyone should utter. It didn't make sense.
"I want Taylor to bite me."
Even though Charlotte gave that request the respect it deserves, I couldn't believe her. It was nonsense. It spoke to brain damage more than any rational decision-making process.
I must have held my fork in the air for five seconds. "You want her to what?"
"I did the research. All of her thralls seem really happy. Some of them post on PHO about how happy they are serving her." Charlotte held her arm and still didn't meet my gaze. "I haven't really been in a good place. My family is gone and I want to die. But if... I don't know."
Dinah took the conversation more seriously than me. If she wasn't here then I would tell Charlotte okay, fine, do whatever you want. This sort of moral quandary was for Taylor to sort out. Another unpaid employee was fine by me.
Except Dinah was here. I was playing the game on hard mode.
"Are you sure about that?" I asked. "Shouldn't you see a psychologist or somebody? There's this Yamada person who's been all over us recently. I could send her your way."
"I can't afford that."
I took a bite of my sandwich. Generally speaking, eating during someone's big important request was rude. That social etiquette was dampened significantly when such conversations happened over an actual meal, but not eliminated completely.
This really was hard mode. We couldn't afford it either. As soon as Taylor speaks with Charlotte she'll insist on paying for Yamada to talk to her despite it not being in the budget. Yamada was some sort of genius psychologist. Her rates were through the roof.
"That's cruel," I said. "Your only path to happiness is through servitude and only because you don't have the money to pay someone to cure you. I can ask, but to be honest we aren't swimming in money. We can't pay for it for you."
Charlotte shook her head. "I didn't really expect that. There was some free therapy after Leviathan, but it didn't do any good." She put a chip in her mouth and munched on it. An excuse not to say anything more.
Sorry, Charlotte, it's all for the little girl's sake beside me. "It's not my decision," I said. "But can I make a suggestion?"
Charlotte nodded.
"Well, maybe you should spend time with some of the thralls. Most of the non-parahuman ones live in-house. See if it's actually something you want."
Charlotte nodded.
Dinah resumed eating her food. That was a good sign. Her insistence to follow me around was making it harder to deal with people, but I asked for it. Having a precog sidekick was second only to having a healer one.
No wonder Glory Girl can get away with so much shit. I should have seen that one earlier.
"I'll let Emma know you'll be staying there," I told Charlotte. "Do you know the place?"
"Yeah. I saw the banners. I tried to go in but no one would give me the time of day."
Well, it wasn't exactly that sort of company. We had a lobby and a front desk but without actual business the thrall manning it would have turned Charlotte away.
I steered the conversation to something else but Charlotte wasn't willing to talk. A real downer. Probably because of that crippling depression she was feeling. Dinah probably already knew what would happen to her.
I shouldn't ask.
"Thank you," Charlotte said after finishing her meal. I smiled at her.
"Best of luck," I said. "It would be nice if you could be happier without having to resort to this, but we all have to survive best we can."
Charlotte excused herself from the restaurant without a word. That left Dinah and me, both our plates clean. It still didn't make sense.
Why would somebody want to be bitten?
"I don't get it," I said. "Why would she ask me that?"
"She's sad," Dinah said. "If Taylor bites her she'll be happy. Isn't it that simple?"
I didn't respond. That sort of logic didn't click. The path to happiness was to be bitten by Taylor? Sure it made sense on a surface level. The thralls certainly were pretty damn happy to be slaves. But before that affect hit you—before you were that happy mindless slave—
Didn't she have things she wanted to accomplish on her own?
Didn't Charlotte have a goal? A reason for being? Who throws that away to adopt someone else's reason? Maybe if it really was just happy obedience that would be fine. But I would rather make my own plans. I won't follow someone else's. Especially if that person is Taylor.
Sophia would refer to someone like Charlotte as prey. There weren't any easy categories like that though. Any statement that has the form "you're either blank or blank" will fall apart under careful scrutiny. But I can see why it's tempting after meeting someone who so obviously falls into the prey category.
"I should call Emma." I took out my phone, but Dinah stopped me.
"It's going to happen again," she said softly.
I pushed her hand away. "Thank you," I said. "But you really don't have to do that."
Dinah played with her fork. She spoke in barely more than a whisper. "...it makes the numbers go up."
I gave her a pat on the back. "You're a good kid, Dinah." I said softly and put my hands in my lap. At this point there isn't much for me to do except wait. But that wouldn't be natural, so I waved the waitress over and had her serve a small desert. An excuse to stay at the table.
The smart thing would be to teleport out of here, but running away doesn't suit me.
"Sure you want to stay here?" I asked.
Dinah nodded, but I noticed she slid towards the other end of the booth. Can't really blame her for that one. I tried not to look at her and instead I stared at the empty seat across from us. The waitress came back quickly with the cake and I cut it in half.
I grabbed Dinah's plate and slid half the slice onto hers before pushing it back. It was pretty big. Bigger than I thought it would be. I didn't plan on having more than a few bites, though Dinah greedily dug into it.
—Bang!
The bullet slammed into the booth in front of me. I spun in my seat to see a man in a large coat pointing a gun at me.
—Bang!
A window shattered and the bullet pierced into his arm. He fell over, dropping the gun. I didn't have to run over. I simply teleported to where he was on the ground clutching his arm. The gun was nearby and he tried to reach for it.
I stepped on his arm and quickly grabbed it. I flipped the safety back on and gave the man a solid kick into his side. "Why the hell did you do that?" I screamed. He recoiled from the kick so I kicked him again. "Why do you people keep trying to do this to me? I don't even know you."
The man coughed and tried to run away. It was easy enough to trip him and he fell back onto the floor. I knelt down by him this time and punched him in the face.
"I know I messed up," I said with a punch.
"But I'm trying to make up for it," I yelled with another punch.
"Why can't you get that?" Another punch.
The next one I aimed for his wound so it would actually hurt. He screamed and tried to get away again. This time I slammed my foot down hard on his leg. I heard a crack. I stomped on it again for good measure, but the first had been enough.
He wasn't capable of using that leg anymore.
Dinah shuffled up next to me and, after making her presence known, reached out for my hand. I nodded to her and grabbed it.
"It's okay, that's enough." She said.
I sat down on the ground a few feet away from the criminal who tried to shoot me. I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my face into them. Dinah sat down and leaned against me.
"I called the police," she said. I nodded without looking at her. The restaurant was bathed in nothing but hushed tones and whispers from the other patrons. There had been screams at first but I took the man down in seconds.
He clutched his shoulder where the bullet entered, writhing on the ground from his broken leg. Dinah put her arms around me in an attempt to console me.
Good.
I would prefer this not to happen, but I can leverage it. Especially with Dinah letting me know in advance it would occur. I stared at the man. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon with that broken leg.
No one in this room but me knew what truly just happened.
He had shot me without warning in the back of the head. I teleported the bullet in front of me and it buried itself into the cushion. I then spun around so I could look at him and direct the next one. He shot me in the nose and I teleported it behind him.
My ability retains momentum, and since he shot me in the nose my line of sight wouldn't let me move the bullet so it could actually hit him. I pushed it outside the window instead and used the shattering glass to deflect the bullet into his shoulder.
He might think someone outside had shot him.
Getting the gun away from him was crucial, but not immediately picking it up and finishing him off was also crucial. In a public place like this where everyone could see me—including Dinah—I couldn't act the relentless murderer. That would make things too complicated.
The clothes wouldn't push the image well either. Madison the cute, victimized high school girl was the public persona of choice. The PRT was more on board with that anyways.
So I had to throw a tantrum and disable the guy in the process. I unfurled my hands from around my legs and Dinah let go. "T-Thanks," I stuttered.
The police would show up soon and once I gave them my name the PRT would steal their open-and-shut case. Though this was Brockton Bay and not a great neighborhood, so "soon" might be half an hour.
All of the restaurant's patrons decided to pay their bills and leave before the police showed up. The only people who stuck around were the restaurant staff.
A few of the waitresses and cooks peered over at Dinah and me to see if the danger was really over. The man hadn't fallen unconscious or anything, but was disabled enough not to try to escape.
I still watched him.
"Hey," I said. "Why did you try to kill me?" My voice was softer than when I yelled at him, but he kept silent. "Did you hear me?" I asked.
"Fuck you," he growled.
"You must have a reason, right?" I asked. "The Protectorate couldn't kill me, so you couldn't have expected to really succeed. So you had a really strong reason, right?"
He coughed. "You should be dead. You can't deflect bullets, you're just a teleporter."
I quickly put my hand over my mouth. If I hadn't, the bystanders would see me smiling. Just a teleporter. I was flattered and insulted at the same time. Though admittedly the "deflecting bullets" thing didn't occur to me until after the whole debacle in September. "Deflect" isn't the right word though. I can't change the velocity of a bullet, I can only change its position. But that's enough.
While I had to visually see the destination, I didn't need to see the object I was moving. My clothes came with me when I teleported, after all, and I didn't have to look at them.
Neither did I have to be consciously aware of things I teleported. Evidenced by how once upon a time an Undersider came along for the ride. As painful as that experience was, it meant any activation of my ability could move things I wasn't even aware of.
I couldn't blame the man for thinking I couldn't move bullets away.
"That can't be..." I said slowly. "Just because I'm easy to kill? You wanted to kill me just because you could? That's horrible."
"You deserve it," he spat.
A stupid reason, but he was venting at his loss. The only issue with teleporting speeding bullets—the issue why I hadn't considered it immediately—was the reaction time. The time it takes for a bullet to exit a gun and hit me is thousands of times quicker than the time it takes me to realize what's happening and think to move the bullet away.
But I didn't have to think. I could teleport things subconsciously. And stuff like air wasn't affected by my ability either, which meant that I could constantly "teleport things around me away." Air wasn't effected and I could consciously not include my clothing.
But anything else would move away. I might not even notice it. An impassable barrier. It's why Dinah didn't grab my hand until I gave her permission.
And again after making her intentions clear, Dinah grabbed my arm. "Don't talk to him Maddy, he's just a bad guy."
I nodded and let Dinah drag me away. I had her keep an eye on him while I bothered one of the cooks for some rope to tie the guy up. While handing it over they hesitantly asked if I could take him away somewhere so they could get back to running their restaurant.
"Okay," I said quietly. "Sorry to cause you so much trouble. I'll come back to pay my bill later."
With that, Dinah grabbed our bags and I teleported us outside. There was an empty lot nearby I moved to along with the now-tied-up gunman. We still had to wait for the cops to arrive. As I guessed, it took fifteen minutes.
The ambulance wasn't far behind and the paramedics started tending to the guy who got shot while the police asked me questions. The first was my name.
"Madison Clements," I said. But there was no reaction from the officer. It's not like everyone in Brockton Bay knew who I was. I wasn't a celebrity.
The officer nodded and wrote it down in his notebook. "Do you know why this man tried to shoot you?"
"I imagine it has to do with either the Red Sky incident or my job. I'm the director of HFC."
He started to write it down, but then his pencil slowed. Well at least he realized it once I told him. "Ah," he said. "We're going to have to call the PRT for this one."
"Go ahead."
As predicted, there were more delays as the officer contacted the PRT and then they had to send a van out. They arrived a lot more quickly. It was only five minutes later that the van pulled up. I hadn't expected anyone but some suits, but the girl out of the passenger seat was a familiar face.
Sophia walked up with confidence in her steps. She was in her costume so it was Shadow Stalker, really. "Long time no see, shorty."
"It hasn't been that long. White hats treating you right?"
Sophia sat down on the bench next to me and crossed her legs. The ambulance had left by the time the PRT showed up so the suspect was gone. "Can't complain," she said. "Culture's different now. After that shit you pulled things are a lot more straightforward. Want to tell me what happened to the retard who thought he could take you?"
"Run through with his own bullet," I said. I glanced towards Dinah. Crap, I couldn't quite be myself with her sitting here. "And other injuries," I said simply.
"Who's the kid?" Sophia asked. She noticed my hesitation.
"I'm taking care of her."
"Hmmm." Sophia looked at Dinah, but lost interest. "Know what the piece of shit wanted you dead for? Besides the obvious."
Ugh, Sophia, way to notice the kid and swear anyways. "Naw. Never seen him before and I don't think he's related to any of the capes I—" I stopped myself. Fuck, Dinah sitting here was making this hard. An investment worth making but I was still playing with one hand tied behind my back.
Sophia rolled her eyes. "Probably just some loon. It's good that you hurt him, we might be able to squeeze a confession out of him. Gotta admit I'm surprised he's still breathing."
"I don't enjoy killing people, you know." I said.
"Sure you don't," she protested. "Go tell that to your victims and see how they feel."
Alright, as soon as she leaves I need to immediately tell Dinah something like how we're not really friends. No, that won't work. Maybe a lecture. Don't be like Sophia, Dinah! Yeah, something like that.
"So here's the report," Sophia said. "Some lowlife tried to shoot Madison and accidentally shot himself instead. After all the racial slurs he yelled of course. Short and simple, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "He accidentally shot himself. In the shoulder. From behind."
"Sure."
"And committed a hate crime against a white girl, when he's also white."
"I don't see the problem. That's everything, right?"
I sighed. "He broke his ankle. Tripped or something. Other than that, you got it."
Sophia laughed. I cracked a smile too at the absurdity of the situation. There was no doubt in my mind that Sophia actually would put all that in the report. Despite the fact it's nonsense there will be no one who is going to do anything about it.
"Come on, Dinah." I said. "Let's go. I'll take you back to HFC."
"See you around, shorties." Sophia said.