Chapter 2.1
Sunday, April 10th 2011
"So, what do you think? Have fun yesterday?"
Chrissie had been correct — I could sleep. I just didn't for very long, and falling back asleep when I woke up at some horrible early hour proved to be nearly impossible. Worse, the Butchers jumped me as soon as I woke up, with Alkaline asking the question that I had been dreading all night.
"I sure had fun," Stratego rumbled. "Shows you —"
"Yeah, yeah, the new girl has a 'sound tactical mind,'" Marauder said. "I'm just impressed that she ate the bimbo's foot."
My bugs ate the foot.
"Close enough!" he replied with a laugh.
"Still, the idiot has a point," Chisel mused. "Beating up the other Teeth is a bit of a tradition, but between your bug hurricane stunt and yesterday's raid, I think you are laying a solid foundation for your new persona."
Weaver, the kind-of creepy but helpful bug hero, was dead.
Long live Weaver, Butcher XV.
"You won't get away with not killing people," Butcher groused, but I sent a firm look in his direction and he shut up.
Watch me, I spat. The others chuckled at my declaration, but it was an old argument by this point. I had spent the entire time between escaping the heroes and sneaking into the Teeth's lair debating with my predecessors about how to best survive as the Butcher, and the answer boiled down to 'be scary enough that people don't realize Weaver doesn't kill people.'
Easier said than done, but the heroes had already turned me into a villain. I wasn't going to let the Teeth turn me into a serial killer. Luckily, my power gave me a leg up on terrorizing my enemies without killing them, so all I had to do was keep everything under control and I would be fine.
Chrissie chose that moment to squirm in her sleep, a very interesting sensation given how we were cuddling. It derailed the conversation instantly, as she had last night.
"You have to admit how sweet this scene is," Alkaline said softly, as though she could disturb the girl in my arms.
At least my arm hasn't fallen asleep. It was currently trapped under Chrissie. I can't even get to my phone.
"Just send some bugs after it like you would a bundle of cash," Sanguine suggested.
I wanted to smack myself for not thinking of that, but held back on the off chance it would wake Chrissie up. My swarm flowed into her room, and after my week of emptying stash houses of their contents, it was entirely too easy to open my utility pouch and retrieve my smartphone. It was in my hand and unlocked with barely a thought.
"Your power is bullshit," Knockout said, again.
Stratego apparently agreed. "Versatile, precise, overwhelming and comes with an unmatched psychological impact. I never imagined that arthropod control would prove so effective."
"Just cream your pants already and get it over with, Strat," Fester complained.
I rolled my eyes at their banter and gave them a polite nudge into the background as I opened the PHO app. I was excited to see my Weaver account was now sporting the 'Verified Cape' tag, but then I remembered my new status as the leader of the Teeth. The picture of me, standing by a wall with Weaver written by bugs along with the string of numbers I was asked to provide in the image now seemed to mock me as I closed out my private messages.
Chisel hummed in thought. "Perhaps you should see what the PRT is saying about both their treachery on Friday and your raid yesterday."
That wasn't a terrible idea actually, and it gave me a way to kill time until Chrissie woke up. Navigating to the Brockton Bay main forum, I found something rather concerning. There were several speculation threads from Friday, though all had been locked that same night.
My curiosity was running about as high as Spree in the other room, so I quickly opened the first such thread. I wasn't surprised in the least to see that the PRT was spinning their capture attempt as my fault. There were a small number of people that were asking why I was meeting with the PRT to begin with, but they were either shouted into oblivion or triggered thread locks.
Apparently, I had missed a lot while planning and doing last-minute scouting for the raid.
"What, do you think you would have changed their mind?" Ironsides asked. "Girl, you're the Butcher. Anything you say online will be treated as the crazed ramblings of a madwoman."
"No no, trust me guys, I'm a hero!" Fester said in a sing-song voice.
"Shit, had we been stuck with anyone else, it would have been funny to make them post stuff like that!" Marauder agreed. "This PHO thing could be a lot of fun!"
My thumb hovered over the 'New Thread' button as I considered their words. As much as I hated to admit it, Ironsides was almost certainly right. All I needed to do was read through page after page of terrified civilians to know that my reputation inexorably preceded me. A history of good work might have eventually convinced the PRT, and with their support I would have been able to declare myself a hero, but even they were scared enough to prefer me gone to on their side.
Well, I refused to be the madwoman they all assumed I would become. Not killing was the first part, but maybe I could cultivate a sane online presence, too. If living well really was the best revenge, then I would just have to show the PRT and public just how much control I really had over the voices.
"They will never trust you," Butcher spat, earning a smack down into the dark.
I could make this work. In fact, as I remembered the past few days, I already had something of a supporter on the other side. A quick search of the PHO username database revealed his account, and I typed a quick message to the ex-villain.
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
I'm not sure what is more damning — that the PRT tried to send a fifteen year old girl to the Birdcage, or that they've somehow bullied PHO into covering it up. I have to assume that you weren't particularly enthused by that plan?
►Assault (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
[You have been blocked by this user.]
"It's a damn shame," Marauder grumbled, and I was about to complain in kind when I got a new message notification. My amused smile at the strange username turned into a grimace as soon as I read the text.
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
Hey kid, you doing alright?
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
What the fuck do you think, Madcap?
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
Okay, I deserve that… I'm sorry. I know it isn't worth much, but you really didn't deserve… any of that. I argued against the plan, as did Armsy, but Piggot overruled him. Heads would have rolled if you stayed a hero and it ever came out, but…
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
But what?
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
You went back to the Teeth. In their mind, you justified them trying to send you away.
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
Fuck them with a rake. It wasn't like I was given the choice.
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
The 'reformed hero' part of me wants to say that you always have a choice, but I've been there. I know how the game is played.
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
I needed a team.
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
We all do, kid. But there's a reason most Butchers come from the Teeth.
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
…
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
I'm not going to yell at you about yesterday — hell, we wanted to hit that warehouse too, and it's nice to see the Empire get a black eye. Just don't lose yourself in the violence.
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
I'll try. Hey, the others wanted me to ask if I could get the minigun back.
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
Not a chance in hell.
►Weaver (Verified Cape)
Replied On April 10th 2011:
Figures, I'll just have to get it back the old fashioned way then.
►Ausspull
Replied On April 10th 2011:
And I pray I'm still on console duty when you do. Try to stay alive, this city isn't going to be kind to you going forward.
My arm flopped to my side, phone gripped tight enough I could hear the plastic creak. His apology seemed honest enough, and knowing that there were at least a few heroes that had objected to my treatment lifted a small part of the weight from my shoulders. It would never be enough, of course, but it felt good to not have been completely wrong about Assault.
As I was contemplating what the Teeth could help me accomplish in the coming weeks, I felt Chrissie stir. I took the opportunity to reclaim my arm from her; as I did so, her eyes flitted open and a soft smile crept onto her lips. "Mornin' Tay."
…
"Did our heart just skip a beat?" Chisel asked.
Alkaline chuckled. "Oh, that's just precious."
Fuck off. I shoved both of them away as the heat of a blush washed over my cheeks.
"Hey Chrissie, sorry if I woke you. You've still got a few hours if you want to curl back up."
She blinked, then proceeded to crawl over top of me without any regard for what went where as she felt along the nightstand for where she had left her phone. I had a firefly land on it and flash a few times. She got the message and grabbed it, but rather than settling back in, she stayed splayed out across me.
My numerous Brute packages ensured her weight was nothing to me, but at the same time it was proving to be everything. "Ugh, seven A.M. is too early." She continued to use me as a platform as she checked various things, making no effort to move.
"Tickle her," Fester said playfully. "She'll fucking love it."
"She will no doubt escalate if you do," Damascian pointed out.
"We all want that, dumbass!" Pyro yelled. "Now Taylor won't do it since you felt the need to warn her."
I silenced all of them. Was it really a good idea to tickle the cape that can create nigh invisible razor blades out of thin air? All my instincts for self preservation screamed no, but some part of me just wanted to have a bit of fun. Probably the same part of me that hadn't had any positive human contact in almost two years and was now attaching itself to the one person who had shown me something other than disdain and hatred, or worse, apathy.
My fingers snaked out and found her sides and I pressed my assault. She screamed in surprise and flopped, but I had my hands around her; she wasn't going anywhere as I reduced her to a laughing and giggling mess.
Oh, that was me, I was the giggling mess.
"Fuck, I give, I give!" she cried out, so I decided to be merciful to my minion and released her.
When she finally sat up and looked at me, I felt a lump form in my throat as words failed. Her cheeks were flushed and she was gasping for breath, but a contented expression rested upon her face, almost as if I had —
A dozen memories of various girls came to mind as the chorus confirmed that yes, she looked like someone who had just had a very memorable night that wasn't anywhere close to being finished.
"Holy shit, just jump her fucking bones already and get it over with!" Sabertooth roared.
I forced the lump down as I muted the entire chorus. I didn't need them giving me unsolicited advice about how to handle the dangerous villain currently eyeing me like I was candy, nor did I want to think about how much I wanted her to keep looking at me like that.
"You're beautiful," Chrissie said with such calm surety, then her face fell. "Those bitches really did a number on you, and we let it happen. Now here I am, in bed with you less than a week after I did nothing when they told you to off yourself, all because you weren't one of ours."
I didn't know what to say to that, but felt I needed to say something. "Chrissie, you don't have to —"
She cut me off with a finger to my lips. "I let them drive you to the point where you triggered. I did nothing about the locker when the cops asked questions. I told our boys to keep their noses out of it… Would you have even inherited if I had done the right thing? It feels wrong for me to take advantage of you, since I'm part of what made your life hell."
I could see it — Chrissie was spiraling, in a way I was so familiar with. So, I reached out and pulled her into a hug. She stiffened for a moment, then let herself relax in my arms. It felt nice to be the reassuring one for once; I couldn't actually remember the last time that had happened, if it ever had.
"We're going to make this right," I found myself saying. "I don't know how just yet, but we'll find a way, together."
"That has to be one of the cheesiest things I've ever heard." Chrissie muttered into my shoulder.
Sanguine passed a stupid comment that I couldn't help but repeat out loud. "I wonder if I could fill the hammerspace with cheese…"
Chrissie snorted and snuggled back against me. "Never stop being you."
"If this Butcher thing doesn't work out maybe I can become The Cheese Meister, bane of Mouse Protector!"
"Okay, you can stop now." Chrissie said with a light chuckle, still snuggled against me.
We laid there in silence for long enough that I was pretty sure Chrissie dozed off again. Thus, I was mildly surprised when she rolled practically on top of me and fixed me with a worried smile.
"When was the last time you went home?" Chrissie asked, and my brain misfired for a moment. At my silence, she pressed on. "I heard that bitch's comment and your retort. Your home life probably isn't the greatest. If you, uh, do still have one. If not, I'm sorry. Shit, I'm doing this the wrong way. Do you want to tell me about it?"
I was tempted to just clam up, but Chrissie had been nice to me. "Not particularly… Dad's just kinda checked out ever since mom passed and it gets… Tiring to keep up the illusion of a functional home."
"That has to fucking suck, but its still better than mine. My parents know I'm a villain, and told me that as long as I go to school enough to keep the law from looking at them, they don't care what I do."
"Seriously?" I had to ask. "What the fuck is wrong with them?"
Chrissie shrugged. "Religious fundies think capes are devilspawn and I'm also as gay as Legend, so they told me, and I quote, 'hopefully you die out there and save us the trouble.' So, while I understand the temptation to skip out, if you have the chance to salvage something, you should do it."
Sabertooth growled at that. "Those types still exist?"
"I guess you weren't paying attention," Quarrel spat.
"Such a mentality is dramatically less prevalent on this coast compared to Arkansas. It was… refreshing, to distance myself from such people," Damascian mused.
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing. "That's beyond fucked. I can't believe they did that to you. And you're asking me to go home rather than stay here with you?"
She nodded and let her forehead rest against me. "My homelife is shit and being a villain is an escape from that. You, however, still have a chance to salvage yours. In a way, letting your civilian life fall apart would ensure those cunts won, and we can't be having that."
The Butchers grumbled in my head at that, but I ignored them. "This is not the kind of conversation I thought I would ever have with a notorious villain."
She sat up and posed in a way that brooked no argument as to what was on her mind. "I mean, I could just have my way with you if you're that dead set on staying."
When I had first started running in the morning in a now-irrelevant attempt to get myself into shape, I had encountered a surprising number of… interesting characters. Most were harmless, or at least didn't harm me — I had never needed my pepper spray. That was also because I had taken precautions like crossing the street to avoid the disheveled homeless Brocktonite, shuffling along and muttering to themselves under their breath.
Would I count myself among their number if dad learned the truth?
"Taylor, you have millions of dollars and a room at HQ, you are far from being at risk of living on the streets." Ironsides reminded me.
"I still think we should have stayed. Vex would totally have —" Pyro complained.
"Chrissie," I hissed. "Her name is Chrissie. You know the rest of their names."
Quarrel started to snarl something, and I shoved her away reflexively; Damascian chuckled as her successor's angry complaints were reduced to a muted howling. "The others have survived their trial by fire. Chrissie hasn't even been with us a year."
I didn't even dignify that with a response. Sure, they were all supervillains, but I would have expected a bit more camaraderie among a group whose existence hinged on their ability to function as a team. Well, maybe 'function' and 'team' were overselling their ability to cooperate, something I intended to fix now that I was in charge.
Because the Butcher led the Teeth, no matter what I had to say about it.
"You're doing fine," Alkaline said, patting me on the metaphorical head.
Fine? Friday evening the heroes tried to have me send myself to the Birdcage! And worst, I'm not totally sure that they were wrong to do so! The Butchers started yelling over each other in annoyance, and I crushed them beneath the metaphorical boot of my will. Shut the fuck up! I'm not stupid, and I'm not going to do something so stupid as to turn myself in. I'm just fucking sick of betrayal and bullshit from everyone in my life.
I let the pressure off incrementally as I walked through the Docks towards home, but my predecessors had apparently realized that I wasn't in a mood to deal with their bullshit. Of course, the fact that I could get a moment of silence, nevermind enough to get a coherent thought through my mind, meant that I was as lucky as someone could be and still be the Butcher.
It meant that I could still be Taylor, instead of just Weaver.
Butcher XV.
Maybe.
Previous Butchers had barely been able to string a sentence together, nevermind hold an actual conversation or any other normal human interaction. Chrissie had made this quite clear from the outside, since the Butchers' own memories were obviously preoccupied with trying to get each other to do what they wanted. Hell, even Dad hadn't seemed to notice, though I wasn't sure I would be able to tell if he had.
That thought was like an upended bucket of cold water in my increasingly-cluttered mental space. After the heroes tried their grand betrayal, I had just run directly to the Teeth with no thought for what Dad might have thought. He was probably out of his mind with worry, and it wasn't hard for me to imagine him, passed out on the couch, waiting for me.
Maybe… maybe I should keep him waiting.
"Do it!" Butcher yelled, and I punched him back into the dark on pure reflex before he could continue.
"As much as I hate to agree with Butcher," Sanguine started, and I turned my attention to him. "Hey, hey, just wait a second, Taylor. Every cape has to make hard decisions to keep their loved ones safe."
"What do you fuckers know about love?" I hissed.
"Several of us have family we care about," Chisel said, bringing up a memory of her visiting her mom and dad after inheriting. She hadn't said much or stayed long, but she had made the effort regardless. Surprisingly, Knockout was next, showing how he had sent his two brothers a large amount of freshly-laundered money for Christmas. Then he switched to showing me a much older memory of the three of them in some street brawl, which I pushed away with a sigh.
"Dunno, I care about Taylor's family," Fester cackled. I braced myself for yet another unpleasant memory, but she just laughed harder and did the mental equivalent of waving me away.
Should I just abandon Dad? Would that actually protect him? He had already broken down upon losing Mom, so I really didn't want to find out what would happen if he lost me too. Maybe I could just send him a letter or something, letting him know that I was alive. I doubted that there were Hallmark cards for 'Congratulations on your Supervillain Daughter!'
But giving up like that wasn't just about Dad — giving up now meant that the heroes would win. They didn't believe that I could keep my sanity, that I could function as a normal person. They didn't believe me about much of anything as far as I could tell, and while I hoped they would never be in a position to know my secret identity, every day that Taylor Hebert was still under cover was another day I proved them wrong.
"Girl, you're batshit insane, you know?" Marauder grumbled, seeing the direction of my thoughts.
"It's a viable plan," Damascian retorted. "I'll admit to a desire for certain civilian activities."
Marauder wasn't having it. "She's going to make us go to high school!"
I nearly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk at that thought, not bothering to keep the scowl off my face as I stumbled upright. Having to deal with Emma, Sophia, and the rest, nevermind the faculty, was almost bad enough for me to take the Teeth's offered escape.
"Chrissie will be there," Alkaline reminded me. "It would be easy to have the Teeth help you at school."
I hated the fact that the prospect of even a single friendly face at school made me significantly less likely to abandon Winslow, but the reality of the situation was that I was not going to let Emma force me to give up my civilian identity. I had survived her attentions up until this point, and at this point there was probably very little she or the others could do or say that would be worse than being the Butcher.
Actually... I had a whole bunch of passive and subtle powers that I could leverage to keep myself safe. Sure, I couldn't exactly teleport to class, but my bugs could track everyone and I couldn't feel pain. Hell, I had two different precog abilities, so as long as I wasn't too blatant, the days of getting tripped in the halls might be over.
I would just have to make sure not to lash out and hurt anyone accidentally, but I had never even so much as flown a bug in anyone's eye at school.
"You did drop a roach on a nose though!" Fester said with a chuckle.
Spinning on my feet, I had barely pointed myself in the direction of home before my stomach made its emptiness known with a loud gurgle. The Butchers immediately started clamoring for food, but Chisel's suggestion was accepted almost before I could think to start a vote. "Marleigh's Diner is still open. Let's go there!"
When I finally returned home, takeout bag of breakfast in hand, I found Dad waiting for me. I had just skipped over the rotted porch step before he wrenched the door open, glasses askew and clothes disheveled. "Taylor! Taylor, you're alright! Where have you been? I've been worried sick!"
He pulled me into a tight hug, and my response was muffled by his shoulder. "Hey Dad, sorry I didn't call last night. I, uh, brought breakfast?" I wiggled the hand still clutching the food while the Butchers chuckled in my head. Quiet.
"Why didn't you call, Taylor?" Dad asked as he released me, taking an awkward step back so that he could look me up and down. "I was worried sick when you weren't here when I got home. What were you doing that kept you out all night?"
The Butchers practically tripped over each other to offer stupid responses to that question, so I silenced them before responding, "I was out with friends." I certainly wasn't going to say 'the heroes tried to send me to the Birdcage.'
Dad gave me a skeptical look. "All night?"
"I met this girl from school. You saw my note yesterday, right?" I had cheated, of course, leaving a note that I would be gone to the library on Saturday while sneaking out Friday night. But even before becoming a Noctis cape, I had regularly woken up before him on the weekends to run. "Anyway, we were doing homework, things ran late, and I didn't want to come home at midnight."
"You could have called me, Taylor," he said, voice carrying an edge I didn't like. "Even if just to let me know where you were, I would have happily come to get you."
"I lost track of time," I mumbled. "Sorry."
"Don't give up your day job," Ironsides grumbled.
"What?" several of the others asked.
"I mean she's a terrible actor," he replied, then made a displeased noise. "Sheesh."
Fuck you too.
Luckily, Dad was just staring at me while I dealt with my peanut gallery, only talking after he finally reached some internal conclusion. "Tell me about your new friend over breakfast?"
I breathed a sigh of relief and moved along to the kitchen, where I set the two breakfast platters at the table and we took our usual places. The Butchers snickered in my head, which I ignored.
"We, um, met at school? Her name is Chrissie, and she's really nice." She was also indirectly responsible for at least one death, nevermind her frankly impressive rap sheet beyond that, but I certainly wasn't going to say that out loud.
"Is she friends with Emma?"
I should have expected the question, but I still winced. "Um, not really? Different friend groups."
"Does Emma even have friends?" Alkaline mused.
"Nah, just her next victims," Sabertooth spat. I blinked at his vehemence, but then again, he seemed to have extreme opinions about betrayal.
"Can't we at least, I dunno, burn her house down or something? Just do it while they're not home," Pyro tried.
It's tempting, but no. Someone has to be the better person, here.
"I see," Dad said, which brought me back to the other conversation. Holding two at once could be confusing. "Well, I'm glad you're going to see people, Taylor, but in the future I want to know if you'll be out late, okay?"
"Understood," I said, ignoring the snickers again.
"The big, scary Butcher XV has a curfew," Marauder said, only to get shoved away again.
"Well, I'm going to try to get some sleep now. I am very tired after being up all night waiting for someone who shall remain unnamed." I stuck my tongue out at him and he thankfully chuckled rather than tried to ground me. "No going out today, alright?"
"That's fair." I said, looking away from him to hide the guilt of having lied so plainly to my dad.
Dad grabbed his coffee mug and took it to the sink; I used the opportunity to slip upstairs and into my bedroom. I followed Dad with bugs, sitting quietly until he laid down in the bed and his breathing evened out.
Only once I was completely sure that he was asleep did I pull out my cell phone and dial Chrissie's number. It took her three calls to pick up, and when she did, it was immediately obvious that she had fallen asleep and I had woken her up again. "Ehhh... boss? What, uh, whatcha want?"
"Chrissie," I said quietly, still wary of Dad. "It's nearly noon."
"Well, you're the one who… yawn… woke me up early on a weekend. Not my fault."
Stratego wasn't going to let her laziness stand. "You need to work with the Teeth on battle readiness."
"What the hell does that even mean?" Quarrel yelled. "Get out of here with that pretentious bullshit."
"Says the dumbfuck who —" Knockout started, but I shoved him down and yelled Quiet!
"Boss?"
"Yeah, here. Everything's fine, I'm back home and I'm only grounded for the day. I just, um, needed some advice."
Chrissie yawned again. "Ah, great. What about?"
"School. I'm going back Monday and I want to make a statement."
There was a moment of silence. "Boss?"
"Yes, Chrissie?"
"I fucking love you," she declared, flooding my cheeks with crimson as the chorus jeered and laughed; they were loud enough that I had to push them all down just to hear what Chrissie was saying. "Tomorrow is gonna kick so much ass!"