Many thanks to BeaconHill and GlassGirlCeci for betareading.

Radiant 13.4

Sorting the prisoners out took a while. The jail was starting to get dangerously full, so Piggot, Armsmaster, and I had to work with the police to figure out which prisoners would need to stay on the Rig.

Once we'd finished, the police chief had fixed me with a look. "There's a lot of Empire in the jail right now," he said. "A lot. Enough that they'll probably stage a jailbreak, if you don't take Kaiser and the rest of the leadership out tomorrow."

For a moment a rebuke was on the tip of my tongue. Are you doubting me? I wanted to ask. I swallowed it, and simply promised, "I will."

Then it was back to the PRT headquarters for Piggot and I, while Armsmaster retreated to the Rig. I bade Piggot good night and took the elevator down to my forge.

I opened the door and froze, one foot hovering over the doorstep as I saw what—or rather, who—awaited me in the workshop. Sophia sat in the chair beside my workbench, her head drooping over her chest as she dozed. She had changed out of her costume into the utilitarian thermals she usually wore to her bed in the barracks. Cenya twinkled drowsily upon the ring finger of her left hand.

Guilt surged up in me. How long had she been here, waiting for me, while I dealt with inanities that Piggot and Armsmaster could just as easily have handled without me?

I reached out, but stopped before I touched her. She looked so peaceful. It was rare to see her without tension in her shoulders. I wanted to let her sleep. But sleeping in that chair would be awful on her neck and back. She wouldn't thank me. I forced my hand the last few inches and gently shook her shoulder. "Sophia," I murmured her name.

Her head nodded a couple times before she raised it, blinking blearily. "What…? Taylor…?" Then she winced, and her hand came up to rub at the back of her neck. "Ow."

"Yeah." I smiled apologetically. "You'll want to sleep in a bed. Maybe take a painkiller."

"Mmh." She shook her head. "Right. Sorry I fell asleep in here, I didn't mean to."

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting," I said. "I'd have hurried back if I'd known."

"It's fine, you've got a lot of work to do, I know. I just…" She blinked forcefully and ran a hand down her face, as if to wipe away the sleep. "Sorry—I just wanted to talk about today. And yesterday."

I bit my lip. "You sure you want to have this conversation now? You're exhausted, Sophia."

She fixed me with a look from her brilliantly green eyes, suddenly sharp and alert. "Yes," she said. "No avoiding this, Taylor."

"I'm not…" I sighed and looked down. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's fine," she said, a faint chuckle underlying the words. I looked back up at her to see a wry smile playing about her lips. "I'm not exactly looking forward to this either."

That, oddly enough, made me feel a little better. Although that might just be the smile on her lips and the way the faint red glimmer of the smelter danced merrily in her eyes. "All right." I sat down on my anvil and began to cross my legs. The scrape of mithril on mithril made me glance down. I'd almost forgotten I was still in my armor. I reached down and began to undo the straps holding the plate to my legs. "Do you want to start, or shall I?"

"I will." She cleared her throat. "What you said when you took Hookwolf's power—you planned things the way you did to keep me out of danger. Even though it meant Hookwolf was going to get his power taken away. Right?"

I nodded, stretching my legs out now that they were only clad in my black underarmor. "Right," I confirmed, starting on my gauntlets. "And I stand by that decision. Hookwolf had shown time and again that he was the human equivalent of pond scum. At my worst, I'd have thought that gave me the right to kill him. I no longer think that—but he has no such right to his power."

"How safe is that?" she asked cautiously. "Only—the last time you used it…"

I grimaced. "Noelle was being consumed by a power in its death throes," I said quietly. "Her relationship with it wasn't symbiotic. It was desperately trying to burrow into her as it died. There was no way to safely separate them. Hookwolf's power was natural, and its relationship with him was like most parahumans—symbiotic, and relatively non-invasive. Severing that bond was probably totally painless—at worst, he may have a migraine in the morning." Then a thought occurred to me. "Actually, I should probably ask the medical staff on the Rig to look at him—I think his gemma will just go dormant, like mine, but if the tissue actually dies the necrosis could have health complications. Even then, though, it's manageable—especially if Amy's willing to help. It's not urgent, regardless."

She considered me. "You're sure about all that?"

I nodded. "It's hard to explain what it feels like," I said. "It's like—the connection between a cape and their power is like a tether—no, like a harpoon. The power spears its host and ties itself to them like a whaler to the whale. The wound from Noelle's power was festering and deep—I couldn't pull the harpoon out without killing her. Hookwolf's was clean and as shallow as possible, so pulling it out was easy."

"I… actually can kinda understand that," Sophia said, seeming to relax slightly. "Thanks for trying to explain."

I smiled at her as the last of my armor clattered to the ground. "I'm happy to."

She flushed slightly. "That… brings me to the other thing," she said. "All that happened because you wanted to… to protect me. And then tonight—I'm your best infiltrator. You know I am. But you weren't willing to let me infiltrate because it was risky."

I nodded, my smile fading. "Yes. You're important to me, Sophia. I don't want to—I can't lose you. Not now. I don't know what it would do to me."

She stared at me, her flush deepening, before averting her gaze. "That's… she coughed, looking down. "Taylor—I'm flattered, but…" She shook her head and looked back up at me, and her eyes were emerald-hard. "I'm a superhero," she said, and the tremor that had been in her voice, so faint I hadn't noticed it, was suddenly, notably gone. "I'm not made of glass. I'm not a civilian bystander that you have to protect."

I bit my tongue for a moment before responding. "I have nearly unbreakable armor," I said quietly. "Even if something gets through that, I can heal my body with a bit of Song. Can you blame me for wanting to be the one in harm's way, instead of you?"

She sighed. "No," she admitted. "But… even if I'm not as durable or as powerful as you, I want—I want to be in this beside you, not behind you. You let the others play to their strengths—don't make me an exception just because of… whatever this is." She gestured vaguely at the air between us.

I chewed on my lip as I stared at her. "You pulled me back from a pit I thought I'd fallen down long ago," I said quietly. "You offered me hope when I thought I was too deep for any to reach me. I can't lose you."

"I can't be kept in a safe," Sophia said, equally quiet. "I can't sit quiet and demure in a cabinet, like a crystal wineglass, only taken out when you're sure I'll be safe. That's not who I am—that's not who I want to be." Her eyes were shining, as though lit from within. "You pulled me out of a hole, too," she said. "And you did it by reminding me of what I wanted to be—a hero. You showed me how to do that. Don't stop me now, just when I'm finding my footing." She licked her lips. "Please."

I felt my lips part slightly. A hero is the voice of the voiceless, the song of the mute, the sword of the disarmed, the shield of the defenseless. I had made this bed, and now I must lie in it. My chest surged with a tangled mess of emotions—pride, awe, fear, and other, deeper things I didn't know or didn't dare to name. "I…" It wasn't often that my voice failed me, but I was starting to notice that when it did, it was often with Sophia. I swallowed and tried again. "I understand," I said at last. "I'll try. I promise I'll try. I don't want… I don't want to stifle you, Sophia."

"I know. Thank you." Sophia smiled slightly at me, then stood up and arched her back in a stretch. "Okay. Intense conversation over. Time for sleep."

An amused smile broke across my face. "High time, I'd say," I said. "Do you want me to walk you up to the barracks?"

She grinned down at me. "Nah, I know you've got work." She glanced over at the workbench. "Some of these projects look… targeted. Like they're for people we know?"

"No spoilers," I said, laughing. "Out with you!"

She grinned, turned, and strode out of the forge. "Good night, Taylor!" she called behind her.

"Good night, Sophia," I replied as the door swung shut. I stared at it for a moment before shaking myself, sliding off the anvil, and picking up my hammer. There was work to do.

In the early hours of the morning, before most of the base was awake, there came a knock on my door. "Come in!" I called.

Brian walked in. His teeth were worrying his lower lip, and his eyes darted around the forge like he expected someone to jump out at him. "Taylor," he said. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course." I put down my hammer. "What do you need?"

"I just got a call. Woke me up." He hesitated. "It was from Tattletale."

I blinked. "Oh. What about?"

He looked as though the rug had just been pulled out from under his feet. "That's—you're not upset?"

"Should I be? Tattletale's benign, as villains go. Is this the first time you've spoken since you joined the Wards?"

"Uh, yeah. I thought that was a term of my probation…?"

"Oh." I rubbed my eyes. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" I shrugged. "She contacted you. It's fine. It's not as though anyone is seriously questioning your loyalty anymore, Brian."

He sighed in mingled relief and exasperation. "So all this time I've been walking on eggshells for nothing?"

I considered him. There was a tightness in his broad shoulders and in the way he held his fingers. "I'm sorry," I said. "Things have been moving so fast, I haven't bothered to keep up with any of the others, including you. We should have talked about this sooner. But yes, Brian, you can relax."

He rubbed his face. "Whatever, doesn't matter. The point is, Tattletale asked me to talk to you. She wants to make a deal."

My eyebrow slowly rose. "Tattletale knows she's playing with fire, there," I said softly. "What does she want?"

Brian hesitated, then reluctantly answered, "Bitch. Our old teammate. She and Faultline want to recruit her to their mercenary band."

"So they want me to circumvent the legal system and make sure Bitch gets to them safely."

He swallowed. "Tattletale said all you needed to do was let them set up a rendezvous in or near the city for them to pick her up. You don't have to get your hands dirty. She just wants your permission to come into the Bay to pick Bitch up, because 'there's no way her Dark Lordship would miss that.'" He coughed. "Her words, not mine."

"I've come to realize, over the past months," I said, "that allowing something bad to happen when I could prevent it isn't much better than actively participating. What does Tattletale offer in exchange?"

Brian looked even more unhappy. "…Regent."

I blinked slowly. "The criminal is offering to turn in one criminal for another?"

"No. Uh." Brian grimaced. "She says Regent wants to… join the Wards."

I stared at him. "Regent."

"Yeah."

"Hijack. Heartbreaker's son."

"He's not—" Brian bit his tongue to cut off the words. "…Yeah."

I considered him. "You were his teammate. What were you going to say? He's not—what?"

"He's nothing like his father," Brian said, and his voice was fervent. "He's… he described himself as a sociopath, yeah. But when he and I were both in prison, before you offered me probation? That night Trickster busted him out, he… he refused to leave without me. He only did it when Trickster put a gun to his head."

My eyes widened. "Really? Why did I never hear about this?"

Brian shrugged. "I mean, I told the PRT guys when they took my statement about what happened. I just never thought to bring it up with you. It never seemed important until now."

"It changes things, though." That sort of bond, that attachment… I didn't know much about the psychiatric condition of sociopathy, but I knew the makings of heroic instincts when I saw them. Regent might not be a good person, but I could see the seeds of one in Brian's story. "I'll think about it," I told Brian at last. "Tell Tattletale we can meet—her and Faultline, Bitch, Regent, and me. I don't promise I'll agree, but I will promise to let them all leave that meeting free. I need to talk to Regent and Bitch before I can commit."

Brian nodded, but he didn't look relieved. "I'll tell her," he said. "She said she'd call me back from another phone." He hesitated. "They were my teammates," he said quietly. "I don't know if we were ever friends, exactly, but… I trusted all of them with my life, once. When you meet them… if you can, be, I don't know—lenient?"

"I don't know if I can do leniency," I said gently. "Right and wrong don't bend for anyone, whether we like it or not. Leniency is hard. But I can and will show mercy. I promise that."

He swallowed. "Close enough," he said. "I'm going back to bed. Wake me when you need me."

I nodded. "Sleep well, Brian."