For the first time in too long, I woke up happy. And then I immediately felt like shit. I was here without Dad. I took a deep breath, and tried to practice my new therapists advice: I am allowed to be happy. My dad not being here is not my fault. I repeated the mantra to myself a few times, until my mood leveled out. Well, Taylor, guess you're not going to be going back to sleep.
Stretching, I got out of bed and made my way downstairs, a yawn stretching my jaw unpleasantly this early in the morning. As I walked into the kitchen, I stopped. Amy Dallon, formerly Panacea, was also down here. Mentally, I cursed the case worker who decided that, "Despite your previous disagreements, there is nothing that would interfere with cohabitation." Stupid, useless old bint. While Amy and I got on better than Vicky and I, or Lisa and either of the Dallon sisters, we definitely weren't friends. I made myself a bowl of cereal, and sat down at the table. Amy looked up from her book as I sat down, before returning to her reading. A few minutes later, Amy broke the silence.
"Hey. Taylor." I looked up, startled. Amy and Vicky didn't really talk to Lisa and I unless there was a need, and, honestly, the reverse was true. "You said your mom was an English Professor, right?"
"Yes?" I was racking my brain, trying to think of a time that I'd said that were either of the Dallon sisters might have heard me – maybe when we were getting our educational assignments? Oh yeah, that book was on our reading list wasn't it? Amy kept going.
"Do you remember what the hell a mirror is supposed to symbolize, beyond self-reflection? I know a cracked mirror is insanity, but that doesn't apply here." I blinked, and thought for a second.
"Well, a mirror can also be a boundary between the natural and supernatural, or two otherwise separate worlds – like the Wardrobe that leads to Narnia. It can also symbolize the truth; you know, when you look in a mirror and it shows your true face? That. And, uh, a cracked mirror can also represent separation." I thought for a bit more. "I think that's most of the common usages of it – I haven't gotten that far on my reading list yet, so I don't know if he's being weird or-" Amy snorted and cut in.
"He's being weird. God, how did this book ever become a "classic"?" I took a bite of my cereal as Amy kvetched, and then, I did something really stupid: I talked.
"Because it was written by a white dude for white dude critics, and it spiraled from there. That's what Mom liked to say about a lot of 'classic' novels. She really hated 'Catcher in the Rye' and 'Lord of the Flies'." Amy arched an eyebrow at me. I was honestly amazed that I was talking about Mom in more than passing. I found that I couldn't stop. "She used to run with Lustrum – before the whole 'castrating random men' thing happened." Oh good job Taylor, tell the hero who doesn't like you your mom used to be in a gang. Great idea. Amy hummed, and seemed...pensive?
"Well, it sounds like she got her life on track. And it's not like you really set out to be a villain either." I shook my head – I could tell the other girl was leading into something. Amy set her book down – oh god, no, not just setting it down open, that's murder on the spine! – and took a deep breath. Here we go.
"My dad – my biological dad...he was a villain. I'm not really sure who. I know the Brockton Brigade fought him, though, and he was put away for life. That's not a long list, but...there's more than one, all of them real assholes." My mouth decided to move of its own accord, traitorous thing.
"So? We aren't our parents. Whatever your parents do, that doesn't mean you'll be like them, ya know? You were raised by New Wave," a flinch – shit, okay Taylor, just keep going, "and they're all heroes. They're the ones who are way more likely to have influenced who you'll be, in terms of your morals and values." I tried to be encouraging, but, from the look on Amy's face, I hadn't exactly succeeded.
"I'm not entirely sure that's comforting, Taylor, but thank you." She smiled at me, and I realized that she had a nice smile. I smiled back. We started talking about books we'd liked, and in passing, I realized that maybe this was what it was like to make a friend.
How are they doing this? I was panicking, and none of the others looked all that stressed. It wasn't fair! Not to knock on them, but I'm pretty darn smart. This coursework, though. It wasn't so much hard as it was that there was just so much of it. I wanted to cry, but I would be fucked sideways before I let that bitch Tattletale see me sweat.
Speak of the devil and she'll make herself known. The other, uncool blond in our stupid boarding house closed her book, and stretched. Amy ignored her, but Taylor looked up at her friend. I ignored her, furiously looking for the stupid reference the assignment wanted. There were only, like, twenty of these damned things I needed, I'd find one here.
"You done Lisa?" How she could be so friendly and genuine while also being the ice-cold bitch from the bank was jarring. It was why I wasn't really happy that Ames was hanging out with her now. Amy had promised me that she'd gotten a physical read on the other girl and her being nice was genuine. Which meant that the stone cold villain was a mask, which was, uh, absolutely terrifying. Don't distract yourself, Victoria. Mom's voice echoed in my mind, and I stiffened. Back to work.
"Done for now, anyway. I need a nap and I'm pretty much ahead of the curve. I just gotta do some journal work for therapy for this week." Even as a splash of jealousy roiled through me, there was an unwilling feeling of sympathy was there too. Therapy was the one thing we all agreed we'd hated since getting sent across dimensions. Therapy? Only crazy people get therapy! Mom's frequent rant about it echoed in my head. Unfortunately, it was go to therapy or give up being a hero, and that wasn't going to happen. I'd play their games until they cleared me, then put it out of my mind. Lisa walked out, humming some new pop song, and left. I took some deep breaths as she walked away. The breaths came more quickly, until they were right on top of each other. I think I'm hyperventilating.
"Victoria? Are you okay?" Taylor's voice was oddly far away.
"I can't take this anymore!" I could feel the tears welling up, but couldn't exactly stop it. "You're all doing great, fucking Tattletale is ahead on the homework, and I'm two weeks behind!" I was into full on bawling now, but I could feel Taylor's hand settle on my back, and Amy's as well on my upper arm. "It's not fair! I know I can do these things! I'm used to college coursework. But why is there so much stuff?! How are you getting it all done?!" At that point, I was wailing too hard to talk.
"Victoria. Victoria!" Taylor was almost shaking me. "I want to help you, okay? What all are you working on?" Okay, okay, logic. Just like Aunt Sarah. I could do this. Amy handed me a tissue, and I took it gratefully.
"Uh. Um." I sucked down air until I felt like I could talk again. "I've got those last few book reports on 'The Iron Forest' and 'Where The Jaguar Stalks'. Then there's the history papers. And I've got to study for the provisional heroics license in a month, and Eagle wants an extra paper on appropriate use of force before he'll sign off on my application. Then, they said I could try and regain some of my college credits, so I've got English 101 and Intro to Justice. I've passed those courses! I mean, yeah they're different cause different schools and, like, two hundred years of drift, but still! AND, on top of all that, I still have to make up answers for the stupid therapist bullshit." Taylor was looking at me, a strange deadpan look on her face. Given the unflattering glasses she wore, she looked like a particularly unimpressed owl.
"No shit you're drowning, Victoria. You're doing 3 times the work any of us are." I looked at her with a total lack of understanding. "None of us are trying to rush for our provisionals – they hold the tests every 2 months – there's another shot before school starts up even. And trying to cram 2 college courses on top of basically an entire year of high school? That's crazy, one-hundred-percent. It's not like you're out the money – take them later." She looked me right in my eyes, and I felt like she could see straight into my soul. "You're going to burn the hell out, and then where will Glory Girl be?"
"I can't take it easy! I'm a hero, I have to push higher, be better." Mom had hammered that home often enough. I saw Amy clench her fist – she'd usually been the one that rant was directed towards. "If I settle, then I'm letting down everyone whose trusting in me." Taylor just shook her head.
"There's a difference between doing your best, and flying too close to the sun. Drop the college courses at least – there's no rush to get them done. You can do them during the school year, or during regular college semesters later. There's no shame in taking things as they come. I also think you should shoot for the early August Provisional Test – you'll be more comfortable with the material. And do you REALLY think Ms. Hasselton will let you go patrolling before school starts again?" Well, shit. That...was not something I'd considered.
"Vicky." Amy put her hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be fine if you aren't perfect." I sniffled again and nodded.
"Thanks Ames." I looked over at Taylor. "And thanks, Taylor. I needed that."
"You're welcome." Then her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "What did you mean by 'make up answers' when it came to your therapy?" Oh shit. Amy's hand tightened on my shoulder, and I gulped. I think I fucked up.
It was too damn hot in the summer, and the AC in our house was busted. We were all sweating, and I had taken the sensible precaution of wearing shorts and a t-shirt, parking my ass in front of a fan, and drinking a cold drink while we waited for the repairman. Taylor, the crazy masochist, was out for a run, and I made a mental note to make sure she drank some water when she got in. Lisa -ugh- was down here too, her own cup more full of ice than liquid. I ignored her and went back to reading. Taylor had some great suggestions, and with all my school projects done, I had needed something new to read. The fantasy series Taylor had found was, honestly, kinda formulaic, but it was a well-written romance that didn't fetishize the princesses it followed. Hey, what do you know, we can make progress. It just takes the complete restructuring of society.
The sound of the last member of the house coming downstairs grabbed my attention. Vicky! I looked up, feeling the faint smile stretching at my lips at the thought of seeing Her. Then she came into view, and I felt my eyes widen. Am I in heaven or hell?
She looked amazing. A bikini top and daisy-dukes were, uh, a winning combination on almost any girl, in my personal opinion. But when it was Vicky...holy shit. I swallowed, if only to make sure that I wasn't drooling like an idiot. I tried to put my eyes back to my book, even if there was literally no way I was going to be absorbing any information.
"Hey Ames!" Vicky called out as she passed the table, and I could picture the glaring contest between her and Lisa. That made me smirk, and I could feel my hormones settling down. I heard the refrigerator door open, and Vicky rooting around.
"Don't touch the pizza, that's Taylor's from last night." Lisa said absently as she played around on her phone. Vicky stopped, and a peek showed her totally frozen.
"Jeez, I wasn't going to get into that." Lisa looked at me, and I looked at her. Bullshit! My less favorite blonde smirked at the near-synchronized thought, and returned to scrolling on her phone. My eyes drifted, as they so often did, over to Vicky. My timing was basically perfect, as She bent down, giving me an eyeful of that perfect bu- COLD!
"Ack!" I yelped, dropping my book in shock as my hand flew to my cleavage to retrieve the ice cube that had somehow appeared there. Lisa's fingers, damp with water, gave a damn good clue as to the origin of my frosty shock. Vicky whirled around.
"You okay, Ames?" Holy shit, my heart was still beating hard. I was really gone, wasn't I? I needed to talk to Lisa, it seemed. Great. Now, to distract Vicky.
"I'm fine, Vic. I dropped an ice cube down my own shirt like a dork." The narrowing of her eyes told me that she didn't believe me. Play it cool Amy. I leaned over and picked up my book. "It was embarrassing enough to have it fall out of my mouth already Vic, I don't need you making it worse." She seemed marginally less suspicious. "I think the sprinkler is due to come on, why don't you go play in that? Just don't give the repair guy a heart attack when he comes by." I hoped she didn't get that I was wishing I was that hypothetical repairman.
"Meanie." She stuck her tongue out at me, and I tried to resist thinking about all the things I wanted that tongue to do. It got easier as she walked outside. I set my book down, and squared up to the table to face the former villain. Lisa mirrored me in a way that wasn't at all accidental. Brat.
"So...Thanks. That would have been awkward as shit." I looked down at my hands as I spoke. I hated thanking Lisa for anything, she was always so goddamn smug. But I really did owe her a solid for snapping me out of ogling mode.
"Yup. You're welcome." She sounded so matter of fact, and I kinda hated that too. Maybe more than the smug. Probably because it was more justified. Alright, Amy, buckle up. You've been dodging this for too long. Time to get answers.
"I...I have some questions." I chanced a look up at Lisa, who leaned back in her seat and reached for her drink. I tracked her hand, making sure I wasn't going to get pelted again. I got a smirk in return. Bitch.
"Go ahead and ask." She sipped at her drink, setting it back down. The fan oscillated between us, and I saw her eyes flutter a little at the cooling airflow.
"What? Can't you just guess my questions before I say anything?" Her power was the most subtle of any of ours, but that didn't make it weak. Or less annoying when she gave you the answer to a study guide question before you asked it.
"I mean, I can. But my therapist says I should start only replying to what people actually say. Otherwise I tend to pick up on the worst parts of their thoughts, and, uh, I promised Taylor I'd be a better person. So less picking on people's psychological weaknesses." She sounded bashful when talking about Taylor, and I throttled the strange little bit of jealousy that rose up. Lisa eyed me with that stupid, knowing look, and I decided that moving right along was the best option.
"Alright. Uh, you said you knew who my dad was? Or you hinted at it pretty strongly." That was the easier thing to deal with, for sure. Whoever he was, he was worlds away. He couldn't hurt me anymore.
"Are you sure you want to know? Right now?" Of all of us, Lisa had changed the most. She could still be obnoxious, but she seemed more willing to be kind. Normally, it was a change I appreciated. Today though, I needed the blunt Lisa, not "baby therapist Lisa".
"No, I'm not sure. But I can't work on dealing with it in the abstract." I looked her dead in the eye as I spoke, and got a slight nod in return. She took a deep breath and I tensed in anticipation.
"It was Marquis." Oh. I blinked in response to Lisa's declaration.
"Well, shit. I guess that-"I wasn't quite sure where I was going with that, but Lisa apparently was.
"Explains Brandish's fucking horseshit?" So much for the more diplomatic Lisa. Not that she was wrong. She kept going. "Yea, at least in part. Let me tell you, that woman had capital I Issues." Okay good, it wasn't just that she hated me cause of my dad. Time for the other question. I caught Lisa's eye, and she nodded. "Go ahead."
"You know about...me and...Vicky." Lisa started at me, and I cursed her mentally, choosing now of all times to make me finish my thoughts. This is it, the make or break moment. I reached my hand out, needing to know that she was telling me the truth. Lisa took my hand without comment."Is there any...?"
"Any chance of her reciprocating? Nope. Congrats, you have an obsessive crush on an exceedingly straight woman who sees you in an absolutely familial light." I winced at Lisa's bluntness, and I felt my heart shatter all over again at the total honesty I was reading from the other girl. Tears welled up in my eyes. "I'm truly sorry." For just a moment, I hated her kind honesty. I hated myself for finding out. I hated her for killing my dreams. I hated myself for having them."Actually, there is one way she might see you as a partner, not a sister." There was something brewing in her. Maybe I should be paying more attention, but I felt like a desert traveler who saw an oasis, and was unsure if it was a mirage or not.
"What...what's that?" God, could I sound anymore pathetic? Probably.
"Well, you could make her ret-" What the actual fuck!? What kind of person did Lisa think I was? The kind of person who helped cover up multiple assaults for your crush, a voice whispered in the back of my head, but I didn't pay it any mind.
"Absolutely not! That...that would be so wrong! That's nuts!" I pulled away from Lisa in disgust, ignoring the way some dark part of me considered what she said. Lisa's hand whipped out, quick as a snake, and caught my wrist. I felt my awareness of her body again, and I realized with a surge of terror that she had caught that single, dark thought. But I didn't feel judgment in her thoughts.
"You're right. Doing that, changing her like that, would be sick and wrong. But...if you didn't confront that idea right now, when you weren't at a low point and desperate...you might not throw it in the trash so easily." Gee, thanks for pretending that I'm not at a low point and desperate, Lisa. I appreciate it. I licked my lips, and then let my shoulders sag as I let out a haggard breath.
"Fuck." I couldn't look at her, but the predominate emotion in her mind was kindness. "I guess...thanks, Lisa." God, did that taste bitter. Didn't they used to think that bitter medicine was more effective?
"What are friends for?" Ah jeez. When someone saw you at your literal worse and they still wanted to be your friend, it was hard to say no. Didn't make it any easier to believe.
"Yea?" Lisa smiled at my stupid, almost plaintive tone, but her expression wasn't smug. What do you know, she's actually pretty when she's being genuine.
"Yeah. And as your friend, I'm going to tell you something that I know Taylor would agree with me on." She let my hand go, getting up and walking over to the window to pull the curtains a bit. Weird, but okay.
"Oh? Whats that?" I was honestly curious, for all that I felt worn out and in desperate need of a nap, despite the crushing heat.
"Tell your fucking therapist the truth about Vicky. You know this is an issue. You can't keep going like this...and you shouldn't have to." Whoof. I guess we were by-passing the 'tiptoeing around the issue for the sake of the friendship' stage. Which was fine – the overly-nice bullshit got old fast anyway.
A flash of movement out the window caught my attention, and from the sound, Vicky was having fun in the sprinkler. I tried to move to sneak a peek, but Lisa moved to block what wasn't covered by the curtain. The other girl cleared her throat, and I blushed. Welp, that's embarrassing.
"Fine. I'll tell her at my next appointment. Happy?" She smiled at my agreement, and my eyes widened. That's the dangerous smile.
"Very, actually." She walked over and put her hand on my upper arm as she spoke. "And if you think about backing out on that...I'll make sure ice keeps appearing in your clothes until you do. Capisce?" I swallowed as I read the absolute honesty in her mind.
"Capisce." She smiled again at my frantic nodding, and walked back to her seat. Keeping my eyes determinedly averted from the front window, I went back to my book.
It was the last week of summer break, and our hosts had gotten us a car. Taylor had gotten her license, had found an arcade with a go-kart track, and had somehow gotten Ms. Hasselton to buy us tickets. Which was great, except for the part where I had to hang out with one Victoria Dallon. Taylor, somehow, got along with her. Which was fine – Taylor was a better person than me. But Glory Girl did not like me, I couldn't imagine why, and the animosity was more or less mutual – despite my moment of mercy earlier in the summer.
So here we were. I'd been inching towards the front door for the last twenty minutes, Amy giving me odd looks. Despite our recent detente, I didn't exactly expect her to favor me over her...sister(crush/obsession/object of lust). Brr. That was a knot that I was supremely unqualified to solve in a non-Gordian manner. I looked over and saw Taylor packing a small cooler (doing on reflex, parent/father did this before road trips, would stop if pointed out). She closed it, and caught Amy's eye. The brunette nodded, and marked her place in the book, before leaving it (wants to spend time with Taylor, not buried in book. Includes you in desire to socialize.). I blinked in surprise, a fatal mistake.
"Vicky! We're going!" Taylor called as she walked towards the front door, cooler in hand. A door rattled upstairs, and I bolted to the front door. I got it open, and moved to the side just in time to not get body-checked by a flying Barbie. I opened my mouth to get the word out, but damn, Dallon was quick too.
"Shotgun!" "Shottie!" We glared at each other, then looked at the car. A horde of bugs was descending on the passenger door handle.
"Nope. You two can't behave, so neither of you gets the front seat, Amy does." Taylor walked past us with all the aplomb of a matriarch as she delivered her proclamation, and I felt a little bit poleaxed. Was this really the same Bug Girl I'd seen in the alley, using roaches, wasps, and spiders to take down fucking Lung? (Yes.) I shook my head, and darted for the passenger rear door.
Amy was the shortest of us, so more leg room for me. Did Victoria have longer legs than me? Yes, yes she did. Was Taylor the tallest, with a preference for lots of leg room while she drove? Again, yes. Was I being a bitch by making Victoria sit behind her? Once more, yes. Did I regret that choice? Absolutely not.
I caught the other blonde's expression in the reflection of the window as I waited for Taylor to unlock the doors. She pouted, before lifting off and landing on the drivers side, landing with a dramatic sigh.
"Fine, Mooom." Taylor twitched at Victoria's put-upon tone, before she unlocked the door and we all piled in. I discreetly checked on my friend – Annette Hebert was a delicate subject to bring up at the best of times. (Is fine. Wasn't expecting it. Remembers her mother doing similar things. Further teasing should not result in distress.) Well now, that had possibilities, but Amy was up front. That left...ugh...Victoria. But how? Aha!
I kept glancing at the other blonde, until I was sure that the other girl was looking at me, but wasn't so upset that she wouldn't play along. When her eyes narrowed, I put on my best innocent expression, the one that Amy said needed work, and caught Taylor's eye in the rear-view mirror.
"Mooooooom! Vicky's looking at me weeeeird!" Taylor rolled her eyes. I turned my head enough to Victoria to catch her eye, and winked. Her eyes widened, and then she got a very mischievous grin – those were something I was an expert in, and I could see how so many people found Victoria charming. (The aura doesn't hurt) Wait, what? Investigate that later! I inched my hand towards my fellow backseat occupant to hide my distraction, and she caught on. Good, more than dust under that blond mop. Victoria also turned toward the front, and ramped the pouty up to eleven. Honestly, it was impressive.
"Mom! Lisa's touching me!" Well, there was only one response to that, wasn't there?
"I'm not touching you!" We went back and forth for a bit. Amy's shoulders were shaking as she tried and failed to stifle a laugh. Taylor's eye was twitching (thinks it's funny, doesn't want to encourage you). Well, tough luck there sister, I need no encouragement to be obnoxious! Therefore, Vicky and I kept up our silliness all the way to the arcade. Amy and Taylor went in ahead of us. Vicky caught up to me as we walked to the front door.
"You know she's gonna try and run us off the go-kart course later, right?" I rolled my eyes at Vicky's question.
"Obviously. Still worth it?" I looked up at her, cursing her two inches on me. She smiled brilliantly.
"Duh, that was a blast. Her eye was twitching so much, it was fantastic." She looked at me and her smile become just a touch more genuine. "Not bad, Lisa. Keep calling me Vicky or Vic, ya hear?" She offered a fist, and I rolled my eyes, a bit more fondly.
"Yeah, yeah." I bumped her fist. "You call her mom again though, she's liable to make you fly home. And you left your phone in your room." The other blonde's eyes went comically wide.
"Shit!" I laughed at her panic as we walked in the door.
AN: Beta'd by RikaAltraz
Friendship never ends! While they might have been willing to work together, the Displaced definitely weren't friends upon landing. So how did they become more than just allies of convenience to the friends we see in the main story? While these aren't the whole story, they're the first steps the girls must take to building friendships with each other.
If you need therapy, get therapy. Once again, my characters are not a mouthpiece for my own views. Carol Dallon is not a good role model, surprisingly.
