Author Note: I wanted to read a story that began with an already established Taylor instead of the same locker trigger first chapter most Worm fics begin with, so I decided to create my own.

This story begins 1 year after Taylor gets her powers and is currently a well established presence in the BB cape scene. In this version of the story, she decided to turn in the Undersiders and Coil to the Protectorate and become a hero. Her powers are mostly canon-compliant, though changes will be explained, eventually. The end result of most main plot points until Arc 19 remain roughly the same, though achieved through slightly different means:

Leviathan killed the same people as in canon. The S9 appeared, killed the merchants and were beaten at their game. Coil tried to kill Skitter and was killed in return. Dinah was saved and there is a prophecy. Echidna escaped and was defeated but not before exposing the Triumvirate and Cauldron. Skitter was unmasked and rebranded as Weaver.

Several minor and major divergences have occurred because of the betrayal and though I will not go out of my way to explain them all, I will endeavour to make them internally consistent.

This is my first fic and I am quite inexperienced in writing in general. That said, I'll do my best to try to update the story somewhat consistently. Please enjoy and leave some feedback if you so wish.

Arc 1 – Investigation

Chapter 1

Daylight was barely peeking over the overshadowing dark clouds when he emerged through the open doors of Winslow High. Further ahead in the main lobby of the decrepit school I was standing perfectly still, lost in thought for... I don't know. Half an hour or so?

He approached carefully and silently, clearly trying to not disturb me.

For such a strongly built person, he could be incredibly stealthy when he wanted - it definitely helped in getting the most out of his power. It didn't matter. I was very much aware of his presence. In fact, I had known he was approaching for the last ten minutes. I still didn't turn around.

"Knew I'd find you here." his voiced whispered, hoarsely.

I barely moved. Just enough to acknowledge his presence. It was a comforting one.

"You're wearing your armor. Expecting trouble?"

I moved my head for the first time during the last twenty minutes to look down at myself, almost just then realising that I was indeed wearing the armor. Huh. This heavier version of my costume weighted me down somewhat, though not in an unpleasant manner. I had designed it for the most dangerous of situations, where the usual silk body suit wouldn't be enough to protect me.

The school was calm, though dilapidated. Even despite months of rehabilitation post-Leviathan, it looked barely any better than it was before. But there was no danger of any villains for now.

I would know, otherwise.

"Just old demons." was my attempt at a nonchalant response.

"hmm... Want to check it out?"

I looked at him for the first time since he arrived. The mask didn't let my face show, but I was sure he could see my uncertainty through the yellow lenses. I knew what he was talking about, of course.

"I don't think so. I... I guess just standing here gives perspective to how far I've come."

Carefully, he embraced me from behind. Just enough to show his support without actually trapping me. What with the traumas of my past, and his own experiences, there was always a certain game of knowing when to hold back in our relationship, especially in a public situation like this. Even despite the fact that it was too early for there to be any students around and the only school workers weren't anywhere near us. I stiffened slightly, but only due to surprise. I didn't attempt to release myself from his arms.

"What if someone sees us?" I asked quietly.

"What about it? Everyone knows I'm dating you in my civilian identity and it's not like you being in or out of costume makes much of a difference."

I actually growled at that. The novelty of the thing had passed by now, but being unmasked was still a sore point. To be honest, that little screw-up by former director Tagg had been a not insignificant reason in my refusal to join the wards in the months following the Echidna fight.

"We should leave. Before anyone does see us." I quipped with an unseen grimace, as I turned back to the entrance. He nodded silently and followed behind me for a few steps until we were barred from passing through the doorframes by an unexpected figure.

"Ms Hebert."

The female voice seemed to resound in the empty school space, despite being barely more than a whisper. The woman to whom the voice belonged to had stopped in front of us, on the brink of the open entrance. She was in her late forties, but seemed older, as though carrying a heavy weight of compound stress. Her hair was still dyed dirty blond, but where a year ago the roots were a strong black color, many hints of grey were now visible. Her haggard face looked at the costumed woman in surprise and not a little bit of apprehension.

"Or should I call you Skitter while in costume?" she snarled without any actual bite.

"Actually it's been Weaver for more than half a year, Principal Blackwell."

There was a twitch in the woman's face. Her initial surprise was fading and she now seemed to grow more annoyed at our – or more specifically, my - presence by the second.

"Professor Blackwell now. They couldn't fire me over the investigation you started, but they sure could demote me." She seemed to eye me dangerously, though I did my utmost to not react or seem preoccupied in the least. "Why are you here?"

"Reminiscing."

It took her a few seconds but she seemed to understand, though to be understanding looked to be beyond her.

"Ah, yes. It was a year ago you got locked, right, Ms Hebert?"

There was a mocking enjoyment to using my last name instead of my hero denomination, but once again, I didn't give any indication she had bothered me. Instead I shrugged, though somewhat stiffly.

"Yes. Because of the incredible lack of oversight you had over your students, I do have you to thank, in part, for gaining my powers."

The sardonic smile on the former principal disappeared and she started walking ahead, eventually passing by us.

"You're no longer a student of this institution. I'd thank you to go away. Actual students will arrive soon and we don't want any... disturbances... do we?"

"No we don't. Professor."

With that out of the way, we made our exited past the school and started walking south.

For a few silent minutes we were just left wandering without a specific goal, but eventually Brian cleaned his throat and spoke.

"You want to skip, today? I admit I'm not the most sensible person when it comes to dates, but even I remember the anniversary of my trigger and my first year certainly wasn't as busy or dangerous as yours."

I could've looked at him, but there was no point. I could already see him from a hundred different angles. Instead I remained silent some more time. Enough to digest the unpleasant encounter. Some of it. Somewhat.

Eventually I removed one of my gloves and held onto his hand. The crisp cold air felt revitalising but his body heat was a source of comfort in this stressful dawn of January 3rd.

"I'd like that. But that's how bad habits start and I'm still trying to get rid of a few."

He smiled at that. Over the last year he had been progressively changing from the tough, somewhat distant loner villain to the strong, charismatic hero for whom my silly crush had evolved into love. Eventually we had developed a relationship, despite the bad blood born of my betrayal of the Undersiders, over half a year before. I knew it must not be an easy thing to love me, but it was all I could do to show my appreciation for his care and support with these little displays of affection, despite how stressed or embarrassed they might make me feel at times. Hero though I may be but I guess I never really got past my awkward teenage phase.

"I think I'll drop by the base. Leave the armor and take a shower. Meet you at lunch?"

"Yeah, see you then. Don't get in trouble on the way, Tay."

I was smiling under the mask, despite my unseen red cheeks. I might not be happy per se, especially being the date it was, but I guess I felt content, which, truth be told, was as good as I felt most days. My depression from a year past had faded, but I was self aware enough to realise that replacing it now was a cynicism and hardness shaped from months of unrelenting trials and near death situations, most of which I had either been a deciding factor in dealing with, or at least a very active participant.

"I'll try, but you know I can't promise anything."

"Life of a celebrity." he replied.

I couldn't not snort in derision at that. "Life of a cape, you mean. I don't do it for fans."

And with that I unhooked my hand from his and took off.

I didn't have any super human physical abilities, but over the last few months I had been training like hell to be in my absolute peak form, and it showed in the way I basically glided down the street. It might have been impressive on a normal person. On someone dressed in insectoid black armor - as seen from the eyes of thousands of little critters around - it was equal parts awe-inspiring and intimidating.

As proof, just like now, whenever I patrolled the city, most passers-by almost always stopped and stared at me on the brink of falling into a fight-or-flight response. I grimaced at that.

To be perfectly honest, I was still somewhat awkward about being in the public limelight. That most people knew who I was underneath the mask was and would continue to be uncomfortable in the extreme. More often than I liked, people in my civilian life remarked that I was a lot less scary or intense than I looked in my costume and the inverse, when both villains and especially heroes told me I was way scarier and more intense as Weaver than what they expected from a skinny teenager.

It was draining, really.

Fortunately, apart from friends and colleagues, most people left me alone. Unfortunately, most of those that did approach me were insufferable cape geeks or anti cape idiots. As if screaming at a known cape that they were a tool of Satan could ever be an intelligent move. How had New Wave endured this for over 15 years?

The streets were quiet this early in the morning. The usual nocturnal criminals had all but scurried back to their holes for the time being and only the very early risers like bakers, baristas and an assortment of shop owners were already making headway into their work routine. School would not start for another hour or thereabouts, which gave me more than enough time to change and prepare for the daily trials of education and... heck... socializing.

As I approached the headquarters of my small group, I began slowing down and checking for people nearby with my swarm. Fortunately there was no one nearby, but for a number of people still asleep on adjacent buildings. Despite the rehabilitation and reconstruction efforts of the last 7 months, this part of the docks was still fairly deserted. Maybe even more so since the massacre that heralded the end of the Merchants at the hands of Jack Slash and his band of psychopaths the previous year.

I silently unlocked a basement door that served as one of three entrances to the hideout and let myself enter the dark space. Through habit and my trusting bugs, it was only a few seconds walk until I could press a switch that lighted the rest of the way through an old tunnel from the prohibition era. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if more than a dozen different villains had already used it since the dawn of cape society, some 30 years before.

Now, it led the way to the headquarters of the Brockton Wardens, my own independent hero group... err... technically, rogue group. Of which I was only one of two superheroes.

But that was unimportant semantics most of the time. And the name, well... I wasn't the best with them, but no one had complained so far, so it kinda stuck.

A year before, I would never believe that I might be the head of such an organisation. It was somewhat amusing and distressing that during a skirmish with the Undersiders shortly after my group's founding, Tattletale had remarked she had always known I had the makings of a leader.

Once again, I could not help but lament that my... somewhat friend (or something) hadn't left her life of crime behind despite having every opportunity to do so. At least the group had never been particularly villainous and despite definitely being way more high profile now than it was when I had joined them, they remained a mostly underground affair, with none of the violent crime and drug peddling that defined the previous three major gangs in Brockton Bay.

Finding myself in the entrance hall, I felt a moments nostalgia for the old Undersiders base. Despite how little time I had truly remained a member and the duplicity of my actions at the time, it had been a momentary refuge from my regular life. Even after all the madness I'd been living through since then, I couldn't honestly say that I regretted how I'd started this path. It had been unconventional, sure, but what was convention in cape society, honestly?

On my way to undress myself, I glanced at the living room to find Amy asleep in the big sofa, limbs strewn every which way and snot bubbles growing in her nose accompanied by a resounding snore.

Chuckling at the pitiful sight, I approached and carefully poked my companion's shoulder to try and wake her up.

"Amy."

"Huh? Who, what?"

The biokinetic's unruly mane seemed to take on a life of itself as its owner suddenly jumped, though somehow remaining nearly as asleep as before. She really was a terrible morning person.

"There she is. Time for school. You don't have Victoria to carry you anymore."

"Hrumpf."

Leaving her to her morning routines, I turned back to my personal office/bedroom and finished removing the armor, placing it on a mannequin that dutifully fulfilled its role of supporting the discarded silk and chitin pieces. After a quick shower, I picked up the spare clothes I kept for occasions such as this and in the end looked like a human again instead of a 5'10 grey arthropod.

I still wasn't sure which of the two I liked the most.

In the adjacent kitchen, Amy was gulping down impressive quantities of black coffee while nibbling on a toast with the most lack of enthusiasm I had ever seen.

"Never let it be said that Panacea isn't a ray of sunshine."

"Fuck you."

"Case in point."

She fixed her nearly dead eyes on me but relented after a few seconds and returned to her... facsimile of a breakfast was the term I could generously describe it as. I, myself, started the kettle for a tea and cracked a couple eggs on a skillet for something a bit more nutritious.

"Didn't see you last night. Kinda stood up waiting for you."

With an apologetic wince, I glanced back at her. "Sorry. Spent the night at Brian's. Needed a bit of emotional support..."

Amy looked confused for a second before opening her eyes a bit more with realisation.

"Oh yeah, you mentioned today. How're you handling it, miss early-riser?"

"Fine, I guess. Already had an uncomfortable encounter with the past but Brian was there. Really, I just want to get on with the day and get over it."

I finally sat down with my scrambled eggs and brewing tea while Amy gulped down the last remnants of her brown sludge.

"Fair. Want a ride?"

It was some fifteen minutes later when we left the small underground parking lot in Amy's car. There were significantly more people out and about already but no active crime anywhere within my quite large range. Things had calmed down greatly over the last couple months. A semblance of order and prosperity was slowly establishing itself with the rebuilding (and improving) of the bay. I was almost resentful that it left me with less to do, but pleased nonetheless that there might be better days on the horizon for Brockton. Eventually, I forced myself to stop paying attention to my swarm and tried to calm down with some breathing exercises as we moved towards Arcadia. Any stress over the date was just self imposed psychological crap, I silently told myself.

I had friends, a boyfriend; I was a hero, goddammit!

I could afford to relax for a day.

Yeah... I thought I might do just that.

The school morning went by as usual. I was, admittedly, not an excellent student. Not nearly as good as I had been in middle school, before my steady decline at the mercy of the trio's bullying. But I enjoyed most classes and was on footing even enough that the school allowed me to leave in emergencies for cape business. Being that I had been unmasked at this very school, I didn't have to go through the whole secrecy process that the Wards had to endure, thank scion for small mercies.

Lunch break was... nice. Usually. More so now that cape hysteria had mellowed and I could actually spend time with friends. They were already at their usual table. Dennis, Missy and Ricardo were laughing at something Dennis had said while Vicky and a couple of her girl friends were excitedly chippering about something or other. Probably fashion. They wouldn't talk about boys around Vicky. Not yet. Finally, Amy was a little to the side, engrossed in a book while absentmindedly shovelling spoonfuls of mashed potatoes and gravy into her open maw. It didn't take me long to join then but as soon as I sat down I started looking around.

Huh. That was unusual.

"Have you guys seen Brian?"

She released his hand and he watched as her form began gradually diminish in a run down the street. Only when she disapeared from view, did he too, turn around and start heading south. The heat of her touch was already dissipating, with the cold of the early morning rapidly replacing the pleasant sensation of Taylor's hand on his.

Over the last year she had been progressively changing from the awkward gangly teenage loner he had first met to a strong, determined force of nature. One that he had eventually realised he loved, despite some of their old – and understandable - bad blood.

Truth be told he hadn't the best track record in relationships and to be in one with Taylor, of all people, was not an easy thing but it was worth every moment. Not even taking into account how her strength of character and heroic disposition (as admirable as they could be frustrating) seemed to gradually bring out the same qualities in him – ultimately helping his current role in the Wards.

He looked down at his wristwatch. 6:35AM. He inhaled deeply and took stock of his surroundings. The morning was clear and the streets were empty, meaning he still had enough time to take a leisure stroll through downtown until he got to Arcadia.

Arcadia. And wasn't that a mind fuck for him - a kid used to the street life and the rough edges of the education at Winslow during his early teens.

As it stood, one of the conditions of him being a probationary member of the Wards, was that he had to return to school, a year above Taylor and Kid Win. In a couple of months he would be 18 and as soon as he graduated in June, he had the choice to become a full member of the Protectorate.

He wasn't yet sure if that was what he wanted, though he could admit he was enjoying being a ward. Certainly more than he had expected to, at first. Through a few clever uses of his power, and the fact that he was relatively unknown before being arrested, few people theorized a connection between his old villainous persona and his new heroic one and that suited him just fine.

He was sure he didn't want to return to a life of villainy, despite, or perhaps because Aisha was still a prominent member of the Undersiders. He had so far tried his best to stop her from becoming more entrenched in a life of crime - a path he put her on, he admitted in discontent - but especially since Alec's death to Behemoth, she had become resolute in her decision to double down on the lifestyle, apparently towards some shady goal he was not privy to.

At the very least, he did what he could to hide the connections between the villain stranger and his kid sister. Having two sides of the law under the same roof proved draining more often than not, though, apart from the fact that he was partially breaking the law.

But he wouldn't hesitate to continue doing so. Now, as before, Aisha came first.

Only just above Taylor herself.

It was fortunate, Brian mused with a small grin, that his girlfriend still had a soft spot for their former gang. If she decided to give the Undersiders a really hard time, he had no doubt they wouldn't last long.

He realized he had been mubling and sighed in frustration.

"Damn it. It's really not a good time for introspection."

He had classes to get to.

A sudden pull on his shoulder, however, saw him stumble into a shady side alley. Instinct and trained reflexes finally kicked in and with a block and a push he managed to break free from whatever had been pulling him astride.

"Who's there?!" he growled to the empty space. Whether there would be a response or not, it would give him enough time to send a reinforcements warning to the PRT. It wouldn't do to unmask himself here and now.

Without so much as a loud Pop! or some kind of colorful special effect, a small grey and black devil magically appeared in front of him. It was clearly a cape but what did they want with him? Were they seriously trying to attack a ward in their civilian identity or- ?

Wait. He knew that mask. And he recognized the body language that spoke of barely restrained irritation and impatience. What was she doing here?

"Ai – Imp?"

"Shut up and come with me."

"Oh no. You don't get to make demands, dressed like that and without an explanation."

"No time!"

Typical Aisha. Exasperating.

It was just as she was turning around without waiting for a reply that a shrill voice sounded from the mouth of the alley.

"Well, well. What do we have here? An Imp and a Grue slipping into the shadows. So rude."

He didn't know that voice but whoever it belonged to, knew who he was. Who he had been.

He turned around and took a look at the person in question. He first noticed that the teenage girl-sounding voice indeed belonged to a teenage girl. Aisha's age, maybe. Probably younger. She was wearing an expensive and beautiful winter dress-jacket combo and had jet-black hair framing a delicate pale face with bright green eyes.

Those eyes. They were the same as Alec's.

"I need your help, Grue. Daddy has some questions for you. Come with me."

Immediately, he started walking towards the little girl who kept staring at him.

After all, he was a hero and she needed his help.

It was only logical.