Author's note: I'm aware the first chapter was a bit info-dump heavy. I'll do my best to refrain from going on the same tangents. The story now begins in earnest.

Arc 1 – Investigation

Chapter 2

"Really? No one knows?"

No one had seen Brian all morning. He hadn't said anything to me or to any of the others, either. I didn't want to start freaking out just yet but when something like that happened, it rarely meant good news. Without really meaning to, I started glancing around desperately hoping that he was around and just hadn't made his way here yet. Dennis, obtuse though he might be about the appropriateness of his jokes, did generaly have a good feel for people's mood and was the first to notice my building stress.

"Hey, Taylor." he started calmly with a smile gentler than his usual grins. "He's probably fine. Must have been that job of his. Their hours are impossible! Not the first time he's had to skip for some unannounced bullshit or other." And... there was the shit eating grin.

Apart from Amy and maybe Brian himself, my friends weren't aware that I had long since figured out their secret identities as Wards. Dennis, though, knew that I knew that we both knew that Brian was one. The jab at their "job" didn't went by unnoticed by Missy who promptly jabbed him viciously on the side, to much consternation of Ricardo.

Ok, maybe he had been called by the PRT for some reason or other. I wouldn't freak out. Not yet. For the fourth time that day I made myself calm down and forced myself to eat, fighting against a distinct lack of appetite the whole time.

The rest of the day passed both in a blur and agonizingly slowly. I hadn't been thinking about Brian constantly, but as the lack of communication spread, a pit of worry had started growing deep in my belly. I couldn't sense anything particularly wrong in my range. I had stopped a couple muggings through the use of swarm clones throughout the day but nothing worse than that. No one else in the school had also reported any sort of bad news, save regular highschool drama. I did want to avoid freaking out. That didn't stop me having the feeling that something was wrong.

As soon as the last bell rang, I was out the door. Amy was stepping out at the same time, headed to her bi-weekly volunteer visit to Brockton General. She looked at me with one of her hard stares.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked. If there was one thing I liked about her was that she hated meaningless light conversation as much as me. But that was a good question. What was I gonna do? I didn't think I would be able to really quiet down until I looked for him. If that didn't pan out, I might just knock on the PRT's door and demand to know what the hell was happening.

"I'm gonna patrol. Try to find Brian."

"Humm. 'k then. Be careful. See you at the base?"

"Maybe. I'll confirm later. Might just go home if everything's ok."

"Fine. See ya."

We parted ways and I was left to think of where I might head first. In my self demand to relax earlier in the morning, I hadn't even brought my regular suit with me.

What kind of idea had that been? Why would I be allowed to relax? And today of all days.

Ok, first things first, I needed my suit. I had the armor at the base but my house was closer to the school. And I did have a spare regular costume there. Might as well. It was also an opportunity to see dad, if he was home. With a short term goal in mind, I started heading north in a somewhat hurried run, though not a full sprint. It wouldn't take me long.

I hadn't seen dad for a couple days now I remembered. Fortunately, long before I arrived, I knew he was indeed at the house, apparently busy reading a newspaper while drinking a cup of coffee. My bugs thought it smelled delicious. I couldn't really agree.

I stopped just short of entering, casually appreciating my childhood home.

There were still christmas decorations casually hanging from the roof. Christmas had been one of the better times between the two of us. There had been much to celebrate, then. I was now a hero capable of great feats (his words, not mine), we were slowly patching our fractured relationship and even despite the uncountable tragedies that had hit Brockton that year, the Union was doing better than it had in nearly two decades what with all the construction work around the city. Which, in turn, meant more money for everyone involved. Not that we really needed it.

With just my share of the bounties for the Slaughterhouse 9 we were now multi-millionaires. Heh. Great feats, indeed. Unfortunate that it had taken such sacrifices to make it happen. With malicious enjoyment, I wondered how might have and Emma reacted when they had found that out.

With a slight smile, I made my way inside, surprising my dad who nearly jumped out of his armchair when he heard me enter.

"Oh Taylor! I wasn't expecting you! Thought you were just gonna drop by later in the week."

"Yeah, this is a quick visit. I was gonna grab my spare suit."

For barely a second his eyes seemed to water, before he subconsciously steeled himself. It hurt to dissapoint dad, though, or maybe especially since he was well aware of my responsibilities and goals. All of which didn't mean that I couldn't spare a moment for him.

"And, of course, I missed you." I added with just a little pause in between the declarations. It even had the benefit of being true. That seemed to immediately cheer him up and he moved to hug me. As tall as I might be, dad was taller and his hug had that indescribable special quality that makes parent's hugs particularly warm and cozy. It had been missing for too long. It was nice.

He sat me down and got to make me a tea while questioning me on the minutiae of my school life. He rarely touched on my cape life unless I mentioned it, the Christmas party notwithstanding.

I took the time to look around. The house remained mostly the same, and you might miss the differences if you weren't looking for them. It was a bit cleaner, a bit more organised. A bit... homier.

Despite our newfound fortune, we couldn't really bring ourselves to move. Not only was this my and dad's childhood home, but there were just too many memories of mom embedded in it. However, that didn't mean that we couldn't improve it. Between the ABB, Leviathan, the S9 and Coil, if there was one thing we had learned the past year was that there could never be enough security. Especially now that my face was public knowledge. As such, the place was now fixed with the most top of the line security that money could buy and it's multitude of little issues were slowly being fixed. The rotten step on the stairs outside came to mind.

I had barely put my lips to the mug when the doorbell rang. Dad looked to me questioningly.

"Expecting someone?" he asked. I wasn't.

Opening the door, we found two PRT agents on the other side.

"Weaver?"

I blinked away the surprise and tried my best to repress the sudden knot of worry that had returned with a vengeance.

"That's me, agent. What's this about?"

"We need you to accompany us to the PRT headquarters on a matter of some urgency."

"Can I know what the matter is?"

"Unfortunately, no. We only have orders to take you there. You'll be informed on-site."

"Alright. Let me get dressed up."

With a nod, the agents walked back down the stairs and stayed there, waiting for me.

"Taylor, is something wrong?" my dad asked, voice thick with worry.

"I hope not."

God, I hope not.

I went upstairs and quickly put on my costume. The original one, from when I was known as Skitter used to be completely black. In the right situations it was admittedly intimidating. It even had managed to get me mistaken for a villain by Armsmaster. The version I now wore was more based on light greys with a darker carapace armor, courtesy of the big artificial bugs Amy occasionally created at my request. The design itself was essentially the same, though. Just because I didn't want to look as scary as before, didn't mean that I didn't play up the reputation I had earned before officially becoming a hero.

I said goodbye to dad and accompanied the agents to a nondescript van where we made the short trip in silence. I was used to the PRT protocol by now: enter by the back door, pass by the locker room in case you needed to suit up, which I didn't, head up two floors to the conference rooms and wait an inordinately long amount of time to account for whatever power play the people on top were trying to make. This time, when I arrived at the conference room in question, there were already two people waiting for me. I would honestly be surprised by it if I didn't already know, courtesy of a couple of flies in the division with them.

The people in question were big shots too. Namely, the leader of the Brockton branch of the PRT, Director Renick, and the leader of the Brockton branch of the Protectorate, Miss Militia, as always, dressed in her quasi-military uniform and US flag scarf. They were, generally, pretty easygoing for government officials. I might even consider Miss Militia a friend of sorts. Today, though, they radiated worry.

"Director. Miss Militia. What's going on?"

They looked at me for a moment before Director Renick spoke in a grave tone.

"Thank you for joining us, Weaver. I'll be blunt. As you know, we're aware of your close relationship with Sombre."

There wasn't an explicit threat with that statement, but it still seemed off, somehow. He continued, regardless.

"We have eyewitnesses that put you two together at 6:30AM in the area of the South Docks. Could you clarify what you two were doing?"

I looked hard at them. I wasn't liking this line of questioning.

"What's it to you?"

Miss Militia sighed at that and shifted forward, clearly in an attempt to put me at ease.

"Taylor, we're not accusing you of anything" she offered "But it's important we have a clear idea of what you two were doing. Please."

The hero was a professional with almost two decades of experience. She knew when and how to apply pressure to a criminal. That she was instead trying to calm me down and being non-confrontational, told me she was earnest in her request. I bit down the acidic remark I had on the back of my throat and took a deep breath.

"We were at Winslow. We got out and separated at the intersection of High Street and 23rd. I went to my headquarters. I got the impression he was heading to Arcadia."

"If you could clarify, what were you two doing at Winslow?"

It took me a moment but I decided it was best to answer, despite my inner turmoil. "It's the anniversary of my trigger." I could see Miss Militia visibly recoil, however momentarily "I was just... coping. He followed to offer support." I looked up at them. "Sombre didn't appear at Arcadia all day. He didn't contact anyone. I thought he might have gotten called by you but clearly something's wrong. What happened?"

Renick looked somewhat flustered for a moment but answered nonetheless. "This morning, at 6:42AM we got a distress signal from Sombre's PRT issued phone. At 6:53 a team of PRT officers arrived on site but there was no one there. He is currently declared missing."

Wha... is the room spinning?

It feels like the room's spinning.

I can't breathe.

Why is it so hot suddenly?

Oh right. I'm having a panic attack.

It took me half a minute to be able to talk again. Both the Director and Miss Militia were kind enough to allow me the time to calm down. I couldn't afford to breakdown. Time to be efficient.

"What do you know? How can I help?"

"I'm sorry Weaver, but I'm afraid I can't let you interfere in the ongoing investigation, especially considering your relationship."

… What?

WHAT?

"WHAT?!" I actually screamed. I couldn't remember the last time I had screamed at someone like that. Not even Tagg and Alexandria tag-teaming to make my life hell drew that reaction. "Like HELL you won't let me help!"

This was Brian we were talking about. I wouldn't stand aside for nothing short of an Endbringer, damn him! Fortunately, the leader of the Protectorate seemed to get the right idea, as she turned to him with an slitted eyes.

"Director Renick, again, I must say this decision is utterly counter productive. As Weaver says, she has skills that could help the investigation. A ward is missing. Apart from the importance of that fact by itself, this is the kind of issue that could put a serious damper on both the PRT and Protectorate of Brockton Bay and put you out of a job."

"Miss Militia, if my job gets threatened, it's because I deserved it. I can't simply let an independant who's so close to the case interfere with it."

Oh, he is really pushing my buttons.

"Director, you know who I am. What I can do. My skills in recon and information gathering. If you won't let me help, not only will I investigate anyway without your consent but you can kiss goodbye any collaboration you want from me in the future!"

I wasn't even sure if I could afford to keep to that promise, but damn, it felt good to say it. I just hoped it wouldn't screw me over. Renick's jaw locked rigidly but eventually he seemed to see the light, however unwilfully.

"Very well. You'll have your way once again. There are only two leads. On the crime scene there was a small trail of blood that lead away from the entrance of an alley. The PRT phone that issued the distress signal pinged off a cell phone tower a few blocks away in the opposite direction to the trail but has since been turned off. The entire area is not covered by any sort of video vigilance nor have any eye witnesses come forward so far."

"The blood..."

"Is not Sombre's. Wrong type. It also doesn't match anyone in our database."

I exhaled in relief. Despite being missing, that meant that he might be ok and could even have hurt his assailant, if that's what who the blood belonged to.

"Can I take a look at the scene?" I asked. "My bugs might sense something you missed and I can search a wider area than you can in the same timespan."

He considered it and gave a small nod.

"You will stay in regular contact with one of our agents and inform him of anything you notice, no matter how small."

I nodded in return and got up to exit the room. One more nod, this one of respect, to Miss Militia and I was on my way, already telepathically calling for my ride.

Just as soon as I passed the backdoor reception, a truly massive beetle landed in front of the automatic double doors to the outside. Two guards with automatic weapons flinched and prepared for a fight, pointing their weapons at the creature. One of them immediately grabbed his walkie-talkie in a mix of professionalism and blind panic.

"Code 20, I repeat code 20! Backdoor!"

I rolled my eyes at that. It wasn't like he was a secret. I'd been riding it somewhat regularly for the past few months. Granted, he was a bit bigger now than he had been initially but still.

"What the heck is that thing?" asked/screamed the other guard.

"Atlas" was the creature's response in a deep bass screeching.

I couldn't be sure, what with the helmets covering their faces, but both guards looked like might have paled considerably, hearing the huge insect talk to them. Amy wouldn't create a truly sapient creature, of course. There were few ways more certain of getting a Kill Order issued against you, but it had been her idea to give Atlas vocal cords that I could manipulate in his stead. She thought it might be fun. I could only concur that it indeed was.

"Calm down boys, he's just my ride."

They turned to me as I power walked up to my beetle, got up on what could roughly be considered his neck and sat down, just as his wings unfurled. We took flight and travelled in the direction of Winslow, somewhat to the North-West. I heard a call come in on my cape phone and got it out.

"This is Agent Nobleton of the PRT. Am I talking to Weaver?"

"You are, agent."

"Good. You are to head to High street. The site is the entrance to an alley in front of St. Mary's Park. There are still a few officers there guarding the scene. Have them assist you if necessary and report to them."

"Got it. Thank you Agent."

For the first time I really got to think about the situation. God, Brian had disappeared barely ten minutes after we separated. I hadn't even arrived at the base in that time. If I'd been there...

No. Bad Taylor. Squish those thoughts.

I couldn't let myself be crushed by despair. Not again. Not until I knew what had happened to Brian. Not even then.

I looked down. The city was visibly healing, bit by bit. The artificial lake Leviathan had created in between the South Docks and Downtown areas was just to my left as I moved north. Thanks to the wide strip of park surrounding it, even that already didn't carry as many connections to destruction in the public's eye. No one dared go in the water, yet, but I could just bet someone would be doing something about that soon.

I started coming down to land a few meters away from the PRT officers standing guard near an alley, surrounded by yellow "No Trespassing" tape. They saluted when I approached, which would never not be weird. I was only 16 and already had the power to spy on or kill everyone in a range of 5 blocks or more. My life was already weird enough without grownups salluting to me.

"Ma'am. Please go ahead and keep us informed if you find anything. Take care to not disturb the crime scene." With that short message, the officer went back to his position and stood vigil once more. I could notice a few people watching from the park. There were a couple of families with kids, a few older gents and a teen girl with a very pretty dress.

Huh. Might get me one of those later. Have to find out where they're sold.

I shook my head, breaking the internal monologue. I had to focus on the important things. Brian.

After a while, though, even I had to admit there wasn't much to find. The blood trail, small though it may be, was was still there, but what little smell my mosquitoes could sense tappered out after a few dozens of meters. Not nearly enough to matter, since it headed towards the park. Enough people got skinned knees or other small cuts that the scents quickly intermingled and became indistinguishable. At the same time, the concrete ground of the alley wasn't dirty enough to have any lingering footprints.

There also weren't any of Brian's belongings (that I could recognise) within a mile of me, nor was he. I could fly over the city but without anything else to go on, it would be difficult to identify him over other well build young black men. Which wasn't a huge list, being that Brockton had, until recently, been the Nazi Capital of the USA but still a significant number, especially if he wasn't very obviously incarcerated or somewhere where bugs couldn't reach.

I was still considering possible approaches to the situation when I sensed a new presence very near to myself. Only on the other end of the alley, in fact, behind some dumpsters. Instinctively I prepared for a confrontation as I sent a small swarm to investigate. It was a small person, most likely female and black. She didn't wear a mask so it probably not a cape, unless it was a very stupid newbie.

She was gesturing to the swarm and mouthing something, but I couldn't hear it where I was. For now, I went back to the officers and gave my report.

"Whomever the blood belongs to, they went in the direction of the park. Other than that, I can't find anything more than what you already have."

The same soldier who had spoken before turned to me. "Thank you ma'am. We'll report that. Anything else?"

I thought to comment on whoever was hidding a few dozens of meters away but decided against it. If there was a fight, they would find out soon enough.

"Not right now. I think I'll spread out and search the area around."

Of course the "area around" was my whole damn range, but they didn't need to know that, did they?

"Alright ma'am. Good hunting."

I hoped I wouldn't actually need to hunt someone, but, nonetheless, I turned to the person still waving at my bugs, still walking cautiously. Never know who might be a threat.

As I approached I took my first good look at said person and... what the...

"...Aisha? What are you doing here?"

The usually scantily clad teen was currently wearing form fitting dark grey sweats that, uncommonly for her, actually covered her whole body.

"Heh. That's funny. That was exactly big bro's reaction earlier."

What?

"You've seen Brian? Know where he is?"

"Yeah, gonna take you to him. 's why I'm here."

"Show me."

We started walking through back alleys, going further and further into the docks. I was very confused. If Brian was ok, why hadn't he said anything? What the hell was Aisha wearing?

… and how had she evaded my bugs until she was almost on top of me?

Another quiet, late afternoon. While she wouldn't complain about the reduced college workload, that was no excuse to slack off on her other, arguably more important, work. And so, the doll costumed cape spent most of her free time toiling with the various materials and tools that her power allowed near unlimited facility of use with.
A dozen needles danced around the workshop, threading together half cut sheets of fabric that patiently awaited their turn to be transformed into clothing or another of her iconic pluchies of gigantic dimensions. It was relaxing, seeing and sensing so many small parts moving in synchronicity, perfectly controlled to bring her visions to life. So entranced was she, that the knock behind her went unnoticed.
"Babe! You there?"
There was no mistaking that voice, though.
Rolling her eyes, the tailor let the various needles and lines fall onto the table while, with a graceful turn, she faced the double doors of the large room. On the other side, she knew instantly, stood a tall japanese girl, eagerly awaiting her response.
For a moment, she thought of letting the interloper stew for a bit as the price of interrupting her, but ultimately decided against it. It wouldn't do to delay a hero's work. But she would be sure to show her displeasure during later... activities.
"Yes, come in."
Swiftly, a pristine figure of heroism entered her sanctum, where she started walking towards the self described stylist. A beautifully made dark blue helmet hid her eyes, but beneath then, a sweet smile formed as she saw her girlfriend.
"Hey babe-"
"Right now I'm Parian and you're Foil. Leave the sweet words for another time, lieutenant."
Immediately, the hero stood at attention, facing forward with her back straight and a neutral expression. Even now, despite having left the Protectorate, her dear lieutenant was a stickler for procedure.
"Ma'am, I should point out that you're not wearing your mask. "
She wasn't? Oh goodness. Yep, there it was. Uselessly sitting on top of the chair opposite herself. Clearly she was growing too lax within her new accommodations.
"Regardless. What did you came to say?"
"Oh, I was wondering if you'd heard from Weaver. If she's not here soon, I'm gonna have to patrol alone."
That was... odd. If there was one thing their nominal leader definitely was, it was dedicated. That she was missing one of her patrols either spoke well of her taking it easy for once or that something was very wrong indeed.
"No I haven't. Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her for a couple days now. I'll check in with her, but I'm sure she has good reason."
There was a derisive snort from the hero who shrugged uncomfortably.
"She isn't very forthcoming in the best of days. I just hope she's not throwing in her lot with villains again."
Sabah frowned, looking hard at the other girl. That had been unkind. True, Taylor was a bit impersonal, but she hadn't been anything but heroic since their recruitment into her ill-defined cape group. That her earlier experiences were an uncomfortable topic, to her, it only showed how far Taylor was willing to go to do the right thing.
"I believe your bias are showing, Foil. I'd think all she's done so far would be enough proof of her intentions to you."
Foil, at least, had the good graces of looking momentarily uncomfortable, facing the unrelenting stare of her girlfriend.
"Sorry" she replied, timidly. "I just want to stay away from the same mistakes she made. The easier path is rarely the correct one."
Parian slowly stood up seductively, acting out her very well rehearsed innocent look.
"Oh? Are you saying it's hard being with me?"
Foil's breath hitched for a second, either in surprise or infatuation, but managed to give an almost instantaneous response.
"Easiest decision of my life... Ma'am."
"humm..." Parian purred "Good answer."
Suddenly, she lunged forward and placed a light kiss on the quipped lips of her lieutenant who promptly froze on the spot.

"Go on, then, hero. Make me proud."
With an amusingly stiff nod, the superhero walked out of the workshop, ready to fulfil her duties. She really was easy to work up, Sabah mused. Instead of punishment, perhaps her self imposed underling deserved a little reward. Fortunately, she had many options for both. And Lily... Well, she would enjoy either one.

Once again, she felt her power fill the objects around the room. The work restarted.