Many thanks to GlassGirlCeci, themanwhowas, Assembler, ShadowStepper1300, and BeaconHill for betareading.

Interlude 10c: Eric

"I'm not a kid any more, Mom!" Crystal's voice echoed down the hall. Eric tried to ignore it.

"While you live under this roof, you're still in my care," said Mom. She spoke loudly and firmly, but didn't shout.

Crystal was less restrained. "I'm almost twenty!" She sounded furious; Eric hadn't heard her lose her cool like this in years. "You can't ground me like I'm still in middle school!"

"I'm not grounding you," said their mother. "I'm not even punishing you, Crystal. If you would listen—"

"You're not listening!" Crystal screamed. "Dennis is wonderful! I thought you liked him! Why are you suddenly being like this?"

"I do like Dennis," said Mom. "But, right now, I don't trust him. It's nothing personal. I don't trust anyone in the Protectorate right now."

"Really, Mom? Really? You're forbidding me from dating a guy because of politics?"

"You think this is about politics?" And now she's mad. Eric turned up the music in his headphones, but it wasn't enough. Every word still came through with perfect clarity. "People are dead, Crystal!"

"Criminals are dead! Yeah, that's the idea! Annatar's being a hero, cleaning up the city!"

"So theft, drug dealing, and extortion are crimes people deserve to die over? Listen to yourself, Crystal!"

"People don't commit crimes when they're this scared of the consequences!"

"Forgive me if I don't want my children living in a city running on fear!"

I can't listen to this anymore. Eric ripped his headset off, opened his window, and flew out into the night.

The house had been like this for days. It had come to a head today, with Mom's decision to forbid Crystal from bringing Dennis over (she wasn't even forbidding her from dating the guy, just from bringing him home, which was fine by Eric). But it had been building for a while, ever since Dragon's little announcement on the TV and the start of the PRT's unspoken crusade against crime.

His sneakers tapped gently against the roof of a nearby apartment building. The moon was full overhead, bathing the whole city in a silvery glow. The sea twinkled in the distance, barely visible between the buildings to the north.

Eric sat down, his legs dangling and swinging over the edge of the building. It'd be so much easier if I knew how I felt about all this, he thought.

He agreed with Mom. Not every criminal deserved to die. Annatar was brutal, and it was scary to live in a city run like that. He remembered the first time he'd seen the news after she'd gotten involved in a crime in progress. The guy had been robbing a store at gunpoint. He'd left the place in a body bag.

Eric swallowed. He knew kids who had shoplifted before. Were they next? What about his friend Jason, who sometimes smoked and sold weed on the side?

Where did it stop?

Holding a store up at gunpoint was wrong. So was shoplifting. But not everyone who did something wrong was a bad person, and not every bad person deserved to die.

But Annatar had also saved him. She'd pulled him out of a coma, saved him from being a vegetable for the rest of his life. He couldn't forget that. He couldn't ignore that.

What kind of ungrateful little asshole am I? I'm calling out the girl who saved my life when even Amy couldn't, just because I'm scared of her!

He sighed, looking down at the street below. No cars drove at this time of night, now. Just a couple months ago, this street would have been busy with travelers, people coming home after late shifts or going out for a night on the town.

That was before Bakuda. Before Leviathan. It was starting to feel like the world had it out for this city.

"Hey, kid."

Shielder startled and slipped off of the edge of the roof.

"Whoa, caref—"

The person caught him by the wrist, but he was already rising in the air, turning to face her. He blinked. "Shadow Stalker?"

She stared up at him. "Oh. Fuck, you're Shielder. Didn't recognize you."

"What are you doing here?"

She let go of his wrist and stepped away. "I saw a kid sitting at the edge of a roof looking depressed," she said dryly. "Thought you might need help."

Shielder studied her. "Weren't you mastered or something?"

She looked away. "I heard Annatar was spreading that around," she said. Her voice was low. "No. I left because she was becoming the thing she was supposed to fight, and was pulling everyone down with her."

He looked away. "She saved my life."

"Yeah. Mine too." The masked cape sounded distant, as though she was speaking to him from a long way off.

"Armsmaster wasn't mastered either, then?"

She shook her head. "No. We've been working together. We're trying to help however we can."

Shielder blinked at her. "What, like an underground rebellion?"

"Sort of?" Shadow Stalker shrugged. "I don't know if we're rebels. We just… we're trying to be heroes. Right now, Annatar isn't doing that, and she's leading the Protectorate and Wards down the same way. Brockton Bay needs some good guys."

"…There's New Wave."

Shadow Stalker let out a soft bark of laughter. "Yeah, I guess there is. You guys keep it up. Maybe one day Annatar will snap out of it." She sounded wistful, lost.

Shielder was a hero. His parents had groomed him for it from the beginning. The moment he'd gotten powers, that had been where his life was going to go. He'd been asked, yeah, but there wasn't really much choice, with a family of public superheroes and a trigger that hadn't been easy to hide.

But that was okay, because he wasn't just a hero out of a sense of duty. He was a hero because there was nothing in the world he would rather be. People were important, and helping them when they needed it was more fulfilling than anything else he could imagine doing.

And Shadow Stalker needed help. She was practically crying out for it, in the weariness in her voice, the slump of her shoulders, and the bend of her back, as though she was stumbling under a great load. And yet, she'd come up here because a kid had been on the edge of the rooftop.

"You think Annatar might snap out of it?" Shielder asked. He held to that thought like a lifeline. "All of this… it isn't really her?"

"It's definitely not her," Shadow Stalker said, and there was a fire in her voice now, a determination and a certainty. "I know Taylor. She's my best friend."

Shielder glanced north at the outline of the Rig, rising high over the Bay. "Okay," he said. "That's a relief."

"How so?"

"I've been…" he hesitated. "She saved my life. How was I supposed to… to go against her after that? I didn't know what to do."

"It's not easy," Shadow Stalker agreed. "I know. She's a hero. They're all heroes. But they've lost their way."

"And you think we can help them?"

"I hope so. Us and New Wave? We've got a chance."

Shielder grimaced. "New Wave isn't… in a good place right now," he admitted. "Mom and Crystal are fighting, my aunt and uncle aren't talking… it's a mess."

Shadow Stalker sighed. "Damn. Well. Good luck—"

"Can I join you guys?"

She stared at him. "You sure?" she asked. "We're basically fugitives, kid. We're trying to do the right thing, and we're being hunted for it."

He nodded. "I'm a hero," he said. "That's not about being popular or being well-liked, it's about doing the right thing. No matter how hard that is."

She stared at him. "You know," she said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I kinda wish I'd known you a few years ago."

He blinked at her. "I mean, you sort of did? We've worked together before."

"I guess. I just… wasn't listening, then." She turned away. "All right. Follow me. We'll need to keep kind of low."

"That's fine. Lead the way."

Several days later

Shielder glanced over as the door opened. Sophia slipped inside, shutting it behind her. She took off her mask and stuck it under her arm, giving him a nod. "Eric. Anything happen while I was out?"

"Not really," he said. "Chevalier went out to grab groceries."

She nodded. "Great. How long ago did he leave?"

"Not that long. Ten minutes or so?"

"Then he'll be a while. That's fine." She strode into the building, her fingers drumming idly on the hilt of her sword.

"Anything happen out there?" he asked, falling into step beside her.

"Not much," she said, leading him towards their makeshift kitchen. "Caught a drug dealer. Former Merchant, I think. Dropped him off at the police station."

"Brave or stupid, you think?" he asked. "It's gotta be one or the other, if he's still going with Annatar in control."

"Stupid, definitely," Sophia chuckled. "You should've seen this guy. He was a piece of work." She reached into a cabinet and started rummaging. "I could use some tea. Want some?"

"Sure, thanks."

She pulled out two mugs and set them on the counter before reaching for the kettle. "It's getting harder," she said quietly as it filled with water. "Harder to stay motivated, to feel like we have a chance. She hasn't given any sign she's even noticed us."

"That might be a good thing," Eric murmured. "At least she's not hunting us down."

"At least then I'd feel like we were contributing something," Sophia sighed. "As it is, I just feel… useless. Like all of this"—she gestured around the warehouse—"was for nothing. I—"

Then the wall to their right exploded inward, showering them with debris. Shielder had thrown up a barrier in a moment, blocking the worst of it. Shadow Stalker's mask was on her face when he looked back at her, and her sword was out and shimmering.

"Time to eat my words," she said, and there was a hard, almost triumphant edge to her voice. "Come on!"

They charged together towards the cloud of dust, but before they'd taken more than a couple steps something scythed out of the mist and swung down towards them like a crystalline blade. Shielder barely caught it on a barrier. He winced as it pressed against him, trying to force its way past the shield.

Shadow Stalker was staring at the thing, her shoulders tense. It looked like a spider's leg, cast in polished, shimmering crystal.

"What is this thing?" Shielder asked.

She didn't answer. After a moment, the leg retracted back into the mist. There was a rushing sound, and it scattered, as if disturbed by a strong wind.

Shielder swallowed. "Panacea."

Amy stood there. Her costume had changed. Before, her robes had covered most of her skin, leaving only a pale face and hands emerging. Now, it was almost skimpy. She wore a backless, armless dress, still red and white but almost as short as Victoria's, with slits that went up past her thighs. A nurse's cap sat jauntily atop her head, like the punch line of a wicked joke about the girl she used to be.

She was smiling, and there was something hard and cold in her eyes. "Hey, Eric. Stalker."

"Panacea," Shadow Stalker said. "Annatar sent you?"

"The boss herself." Amy cracked her neck casually. "I don't suppose you'd like to surrender?"

"No." Armsmaster emerged from behind a tall shelving unit. In one hand he held a halberd, and in the other was a tinkertech gun. "We wouldn't."

"Good." Amy smiled wider, then arched her back. From behind her, more of those spider limbs emerged, as though protruding from her spine. They grew out and touched down to the floor, forming a cage around her. Then they flexed, lifting her feet up off the ground. Her fingers splayed out, stretching, reaching. "I could really use a chance to cut loose."

"You're outnumbered," said Armsmaster coldly. "I imagine you've been training, Panacea, but you don't have the same combat experience as the rest of us. Please, don't—"

Four spiderlegs shot out towards him as one. He dodged and swung with his halberd, but it bounced off the crystal, barely leaving a mark. "Don't embarrass yourself," said Amy, a toothy grin on her face. "I—"

A barrier suddenly appeared, separating Amy from the three. It shimmered purple, distorting Shielder's cousin's face into a rictus. Narwhal sank from above until she was beside her comrades.

"This is four against one," she said. "I don't know how powerful you are, but those aren't good odds."

"I know," Amy groaned, as though Narwhal had complained about the quality of a film. "I was really hoping Chevalier would be here too. Then I might actually have some fun."

"What happened to you, Amy?" Shielder asked, staring at his cousin. "This isn't you."

Her smile dropped. She met his eyes. "That's where you're wrong, coz," she said coldly. "This is me when I finally cut loose."

And then there were spiderlegs everywhere. They broke through Narwhal's barrier with a resounding crash, and then Shielder was rolling and throwing up desperate shields in every direction—shields that broke after only a couple blows.

He'd held Bakuda's explosion at bay and kept his team alive. He'd held back Leviathan's tidal waves alongside other heroes. Never once had he imagined that he'd be comparing a battle with an Endbringer to fighting Amy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Armsmaster get shoved into a wall, hacking at the spider's limbs as he went, before being pinned there by three of them. The concrete wall cracked around him.

Narwhal was flying in intricate loops and spins, avoiding the waving limbs trying to swat her out of the air.

Shielder kept low, trying to split Amy's attention, rolling this way and flipping that, throwing up shields wherever he could, just trying to distract, to draw her out, to make it as hard for her to beat him as he could.

Then Shadow Stalker was in front of him, and her sword was burning bright in the dark, drowning out the stars and moon above as she sliced cleanly through a spiderleg. Amy screamed, whether in rage or pain he didn't know, and a swarm of the things converged on Shadow Stalker. But she was already gone, flickering into a wisp of shadowy smoke and darting to another angle, making her way towards Amy at the center of the mass of crystalline limbs.

The attack on Shielder and the others eased up. Armsmaster was still pinned, and he and Narwhal still couldn't get any closer to Amy, but all of his cousin's focus was now on Shadow Stalker and her sword. Blow after blow connected with the ground under the cowled hero, or with the walls behind her, but she dodged every strike, phasing into and out of shadow at a moment's notice.

And yet it wasn't enough. No matter how gracefully she wove between blows, Shadow Stalker could gain no ground against the other Ward. Nor could the others, despite the lessened attack on them; any forcefield Narwhal launched at Amy was batted aside.

After about half a minute of this, Shadow Stalker darted to Armsmaster's side and sliced through the limbs holding him in place. He fell to the ground, landing on his feet, his halberd at the ready. "What's the plan?" he shouted, his voice hoarse.

"I suggest giving up!" Amy hissed, striking out with another barrage.

There was a moment of no conversation as they all scattered to avoid the attack, and then Shielder heard Shadow Stalker screaming. "Run!"

He froze for a fraction of a second, staring over at her, before he had to block another attack. "What?"

She looked over at him, a sourceless green light flickering over her mask and reflecting off the blade of her sword. "We can't beat her!" she called. "Get out of here—I'll hold her off!"

Amy tsked. "Hold me off?" she asked. "I'd like to see that." She redoubled her assault. The forest of crystalline limbs became a jungle. Shielder's body was screaming for rest, and his shields were breaking faster and faster.

"Move!" Armsmaster called. "Narwhal, get going! Meet at the rendezvous!"

"I'm not leaving anyone behind!" Narwhal hollered, throwing lance after lance of folded light at Amy, but she just laughed and blocked them all.

"You don't have a choice!" Shadow Stalker hollered. "Get out of here while you can!"

Narwhal hesitated for an instant, and then flew off into the night sky, her forcefields twinking in the distance for a moment before she went behind a building and out of sight. Armsmaster was already running, using jets on his suit to dodge out of the way of pursuing attacks.

It was just him and Shadow Stalker now, and he was getting tired.

"Shielder, run!" she screamed.

Shielder rolled out of the way of another blow. "No!"

"I can't hold her forever!"

"I know! Get behind me!"

She was there in a moment, and he raised his arms. A forcefield, as strong as he could muster, sprung up before them—and another, and another, stacking them up in the same space almost as fast as Shielder's cousin could break them.

Almost… but not quite.

"Run," he gasped, fighting for breath between throwing shields into place.

Shadow Stalker hesitated, but she understood. She just needed to be reminded.

"They need you," he rasped, his arms shaking. "And Annatar doesn't want me. Go!"

He felt her hand on his shoulder for a moment, squeezing, and then she was gone, leaving only a shadowy wisp behind.

Eric kept fighting, trying to distract her, keep her from escaping. They'd need as much time as he could give them. But he couldn't last long. One spider leg lanced forward and struck him hard across the temple. He saw stars, crumpling to the ground in pain.

Amy walked up to him, moving casually and slowly, her eyes scanning the horizon. "Shit. They're all Movers, aren't they? Did Armsy bring his bike?"

He coughed weakly. "Yup. They're long gone."

"Damn. Not bad, Eric," Amy said, grudging acknowledgement in her voice. "Not gonna help you any, though. Unless you really think they'll come break you out?"

"I hope not," he muttered.

"Anyway, gotta bring you back to base…" She knelt down on the ground, roughly rolling Shielder onto his front. "Not totally sure how this works. Boss isn't usually a fan of taking prisoners." He felt zip-tie handcuffs cinching around his wrists, just a little bit too tight. "Guess I gotta have them bring the van around, too…" She fiddled with her radio for a second.

"Amy?" asked another voice, a familiar one. "Are you— Shielder?"

"Carol." Amy's voice was cold as she stood back up. Shielder squirmed around to get a view of Brandish, in full costume, suddenly surrounded by a veritable swarm of spider legs. "Are you going to try and stop me?"

"No," Brandish said, still standing straight and tall despite Amy's threat. "There was a warrant out for his arrest. And I don't see any bodies. Clean fight, by the Wards' standards."

"Thanks." Amy's voice was skeptical, suspicious. "So what are you doing here? What do you want from me?" She stepped forward, threatening. Shielder wasn't surprised. He didn't think she and Carol had talked since Leviathan.

"I went to the PRT building, but you weren't there. I… I came to apologize," said Brandish. The words seemed to force themselves out past reluctant lips, and were thick with pain, but once they were out she seemed visibly to relax.

"... Huh?" Amy froze, and her spider legs froze with her. "Really?"

"Yes. I… I was awful to you. I don't want that to be the end of this. You're the only daughter I have. I didn't want things to just… end like this." She shifted on her feet, trying to meet Amy's eyes but seeming unable to do so.

Amy watched Brandish for a moment as the sirens of a PRT van began to wail in the night. Shielder saw her lick her lips in a quick, nervous motion. Then her face hardened.

"I didn't want to be accused of letting Vicky die," Amy said. Her voice, formerly cold and unwelcoming, was frigid and hateful now. "I didn't want to grow up with a mother who didn't trust me. I didn't want a lot of things."

She turned and with deceptive strength hefted Shielder up by the arm, supporting him as he scrambled to get his footing. The sudden motion set his head throbbing painfully. His headache was only worsened as a PRT van turned the corner, its headlights glaring into his eyes.

"Amy—" Brandish's voice was choked and weak, and Amy had no trouble talking over it without even raising her voice.

"It's a shame we don't always get what we want," she said as she pulled him towards the van, away from his aunt and her mother. "Isn't it, Brandish?"

Shielder craned his neck to see Brandish as Amy pulled him into the van. As his head slipped inside the vehicle, he caught a glimpse of her face, and the tears staining her cheeks.

Then the door closed, and Annatar had taken him.