Please Ignore

by Zzcoolman

Please ignore, this is only here so that I can use the text to speech feature. This is originally from spacebattles. I will delete after I have finished.

31. Chapter 3-9

Chapter 3.9

Sunday April 24th, 2011

An obnoxious ringing jolted me awake. I rolled over and glared at the clock that unflinchingly stared back while informing me that it was six in the morning. Far too early given this was the first time I had managed to sleep since the attack on the arena. Someone was getting Spiders for breakfast.

I reached out to my swarm and took in my expanding awareness. Chrissie was asleep beside me, and Lisa was snoring on the air mattress she had shared with Amelia while Dinah slept peacefully in our guest room. I slapped my alarm clock, but nothing happened. Two more slaps and I almost elected to smash it until I glanced beside the infuriating device.

Oh, that was my phone.

"Nice one, dumbass," Marauder mocked.

I rolled my eyes and checked the display: Dad's new number. I answered, sounding as groggy as I felt.

"Taylor, are you awake?" he asked.

My awareness of the swarm filtered in through the relays like spreading smog; the arena was still standing, so that was a good sign. The sentries were on duty and not on any elevated levels of alertness beyond the usual. It was a relief that everything hadn't burned down in my sleep.

"Am now," I grumbled, rubbing the crust from my eyes. "Why so early?"

"Well, you said you wanted to talk and…" He took a breath. "I don't want this to wind up like everything else where we start pretending nothing needs to be said again."

"I get it. Are you coming home now?"

There was a beat of silence. "May as well."

"Cool, I'll cook breakfast then," I said, nudging Chrissie to wake up. "I might empty half the pantry, making enough for everyone."

"Your friends stayed the night?"

Chrissie sat up, bleary eyed, her tank top hanging from one arm. I idly adjusted it while she stretched. "Yeah, Amelia, Lisa, Chrissie, and Dinah stayed the night. Dinah took the guest room, Lisa and Amelia took the air mattress in the living room."

"Five girls under one roof…" I could practically see the shudder roll through him. "Makes me glad I didn't come back home last night. Not sure how I would have handled being outnumbered like that."

"Oh ha ha. Now who's being the drama queen?"

"Ouch, you got me there kiddo. How much time do you need for breakfast?"

I paused, thinking it over. "Give me an hour? That should be enough time to wake everyone up and get stuff prepared."

"Can do. I'll see you then."

I sighed and tossed my phone aside, there wasn't much I could do about it. "So much for sleep."

"Why do people wake up this early? It should be a crime," Chrissie grumbled.

"Even if it was, we're criminals anyway," I said with a shrug. "Come on, let's see what kind of grocery run I need to make to feed everyone."

"Do we get to vote on breakfast?" Sabertooth asked.

"I'm under a time limit here, so French toast and some bacon or sausage?" I said.

"Why not both?" Pyro asked.

"Sounds good Tay," Chrissie said, then leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll get things set up if you need to make a milk run."

A dopey grin crossed my face as I threw on a tank top and some sweats. "Thanks Chrissie, be back soon."

It wasn't long before I popped back into the yard. My bugs told me Chrissie and Amelia were in the kitchen. I brought the groceries inside and quickly divested myself so I could hug my girlfriend as she worked on getting some bacon and sausage fried up. It wouldn't be enough for all of us, but it was a headstart on the prep work.

"Welcome back Tay, get everything you need?"

"I'm pretty sure I did," I answered, glancing at Amelia who was face down, tapping the table as she groaned in agony. I smirked and decided to play things up a bit more. "Morning Amelia, want anything for breakfast?"

"Pancakes and a bullet to the head," she declared.

"Got the stuff for French toast, if that works for you?"

"Fuck you," she grumbled, hiding her face further in her arms.

I poured myself some OJ, resisting the urge to turn it into a screwdriver, then got to work on mixing everything up and getting the first batch onto the griddle. Beside me, Chrissie was using her force fields to dice up the potatoes and onions I'd picked up.

Chrissie and I worked in tandem as I cracked egg after egg into a big bowl while she mulched them with swirling force fields. I added the milk, cinnamon, salt, and vanilla as she whipped it into a near custard.

"This is kinda fun," Pyro admitted.

"Told ya!" Alkaline exclaimed. "I miss my extra slots, it made cooking so much easier."

"Now Taylor's going to insist we volunteer at the damn soup kitchens," Marauder groaned.

The frantic pace slowed for a moment while I considered. Maybe in six months. Right now most people would piss themselves in fear if I showed up to help out. I made a mental note to figure out ways to help the community now that I had a lot of money.

The nearly stale egg bread that Chisel insisted I load up on was quickly soaked in the mixture while the butter began to sizzle on the skillet. I set the soaked toast on the hot surface while Chrissie shifted to frying up some hash browns and onions. Despite the time constraints, powers really did help make up for our late start. Knockout's own force fields held the waiting toast while my bugs were positioned to warn me of burning food.

For added insurance, I swapped the hammerspace with the remaining mixture, that way we could make as much as our appetites might demand.

Reflex chuckled. "Given you can complete the Challenger, that may be an impossible bar even with a hammerspace."

The completed batches went into the warm oven, and I had just started the third round when my bugs reported that Dad was pulling in. I tried to push the butterflies in my stomach away, and when that failed, I sent my anxiety into actual butterflies.

Amelia groaned, looking up at the obvious worry I was displaying; it was then that I realized the walls were also buzzing. I shifted my reactions to the bugs farther out along the relays as I could. Last thing I needed was a giant swarm hovering over the house like a fucking arrow.

I could only imagine what Dad's reaction to a hungover Panacea would be, though it was probably just a blip in comparison to when he learned I was the Butcher. After breakfast — that was as long as I could put it off. He could meet everyone, knowing we're all Teeth and see that we're just normal kids making the best out of the situations we were dealt, not the hardened killers we portray ourselves as.

"Three out of five at least," Sanguine mused.

Pyro rolled her eyes. "Lisa earned a few assists there."

"Still not a killer, and neither is Amelia," Marauder growled.

"Yet both have proven themselves to be Teeth," Butcher stated.

And that pretty much settled it. They were ours and the Teeth looked out for their own. Amelia might still call herself a hero in public, but she had chosen to side with us and thus she was under my protection. If anyone touched her, they would learn why what I did to Kaiser was a mercy.

Dad frowned at the now broken step, not that it would stay broken for long. I'd already arranged for one of our recently acquired front companies to rebuild the entire porch Monday after Dad left for work. Perks of having a criminal empire and yet another incentive to tell him now rather than put it off.

Hell, Lisa's base had an under construction high rise over top of it that would house a two story penthouse suite that would be all hers, and likely Amelia's, once it was complete. I should probably be looking for a place that Chrissie and I could call home someday. She was just a few weeks off of seventeen and while the arena was her home, she deserved everything I could give her and then some. I could bring it up once the dust was settled.

Dad didn't find the door locked and quickly let himself inside. "Taylor? I'm home."

"In the kitchen!" I called back, trying to be mindful of Amelia's headache. I then turned to Chrissie. "You sure?"

She nodded.

Most of my swarm was hidden from view, but there was no mistaking Chrissie's blatant use of her powers to dice up strawberries when Dad stepped into the room. Of all of us, her identity was the least secure, and the one he almost certainly knew. An ice breaker and an olive branch, a role she had volunteered to do.

"I still remember the first time I met Danny," Fester mused. "He never was a fan of icebreakers."

"Your definition of icebreakers involves frozen testicles," Sanguine snarled.

To Dad's credit, he barely blinked at the casual display of powers. "It smells wonderful, I haven't had French toast in ages. Chrissie, Amelia, how are both of you?"

Amelia groaned.

"Business has been good," Chrissie said as several strawberries were eviscerated in plain view. "It will be nice to finally take Tay on a date and not worry about being shanked by a skinhead."

"About that…"

"After breakfast," I insisted. "You can meet my friends, get to know them a bit without masks being in the way. We'll, uh, talk about things after that."

I'd been surprised when Amelia suggested the plan, and even more so when both Lisa and Dinah agreed with her. I had to wonder how much had been run past Omen first, but in the end? I trusted my people to do what was best.

"Is that wise?" Dad asked. "I got the impression that Weaver likes identities to remain secret."

I had already decided on a response to that question. "It's more that she enthusiastically enjoys her personal life."

"No you don't," Knockout immediately said, so I muted him and a few of the ones who laughed at me.

"She does now," Chisel pointed out. "Who would have thought?"

I ignored that line of thought and focused back on Dad. "We actually had personalized hoodies made," I said as Chrissie pointed at hers. "Weaver's has her last name and a massive fifteen numeral on it. She wants to flaunt our civilian identities so everyone knows not to fuck with us. No claiming a random accident to assassinate someone."

"The last thing the authorities want is a full time Butcher," Dinah said, making her presence known in the kitchen, followed by a huge yawn.

"Mornin' Dinah," Chrissie said, "want the works?"

"Please."

Dad watched in silence as we plated enough food for a dozen and placed it on the table. Meanwhile, I sent a few bugs to poke at Lisa and make sure she was awake. Power assisted knockout or not, bugs could be annoyingly persistent pests even without my help. Lisa groaned, whispering expletives as she waved off my helpers and begrudgingly got up and shuffled off to the restroom.

"Lisa's up. She'll be out in a minute," I said aloud. Dad gave me a piercing look, but was cut off by Amelia.

"Why did I let her talk me into drinking so much?"

I shrugged. "No idea, I intentionally avoided listening in. It felt rude."

"Still weird having a Butcher with a conscience," Ironsides grumbled.

"Can't deny her effectiveness though," Fester countered.

"Maybe you should consider it a lesson?" Dad said. "You're too young to be drinking."

"Like you have any room to talk," Lisa declared, trudging into the room in her fox print pajamas.

"So, you're all capes?" Dad asked, his eyes lingering on Dinah and Amelia. "With the Teeth."

"Amelia moonlights," Lisa said, slipping a bit of whiskey into the hungover brunette's coffee. "She's under no obligations or expectations and can walk away whenever she wants."

"The boss isn't a big fan of forced recruitment," Chrissie said, sending a wink my way. "The rest of us are all in."

"And Weaver always looks after her own," Dinah added with a far off look.

Damascian whistled. "A considerable endorsement, coming from a precog."

"She certainly looked out for me," Dad said softly.

That had been the general idea behind this talk: let my friends address his concerns, let them speak their own words. For good or bad. It was manipulating him to be introspective, which would have been shitty of us if we took it further. We just wanted him to stop and think, without any of the famous Hebert righteous fury blinding him.

We mostly focused on breakfast after that, though it was far from silent. Chrissie fed me a strawberry here, Lisa quipped something that set Amelia to giggle snorts there. Dinah dropping jokes far too inappropriate for her age… I was going to have words with Damien.

Light atmosphere or no, I knew that I was stalling.

Even then, there was only so much food to go around, and unlike when I tackled the Challenger, I was finding my appetite to be lacking.

"Alright Taylor, I've been patient," Dad said, setting his silverware on his plate. "You said you would explain why you joined the Teeth, I'm here to listen."

Chrissie shook her head, swallowing quickly. "Proper introductions first, or would you like to guess?"

"Guesses," Lisa stated. "You can learn a lot from a person's assumptions."

Dad sighed. "Fine. Chrissie is Vex."

"Guilty," my girlfriend said with a grin.

"Thanks for Skidmark, the bastard killed a good friend," Dad said while Chrissie's expression blanked, but she nodded all the same. "Lisa is Tattletale."

"Very good," she said with her signature grin. "Now explain the next one."

"She's having too much fun with this," Stratego noted.

I'll intervene before it becomes a problem.

I watched his face shift to confusion. "Amelia is Amy Dallon, better known as Panacea. Since you said she's also…" Dad's voice hitched, "with the Teeth, the only fitting name on the roster would be Pandemic. An obvious inside joke and a taunt for New Wave."

"Ah, deductive reasoning, a rare skill indeed," Lisa said smugly.

"Not everyone gets it as a superpower," Amelia said. "And my last name is actually Lavere. Fuck that Dallon noise."

"Last two," Dinah said with a smirk, which was never a good sign. "Taylor last."

"There aren't many you could be, but based on your hair… Regent?"

There was a beat of silence before my every sense was engulfed by riotous laughter — human, bugs, and voices alike. My head was filled with fourteen distinct cackles; in fact, the only person not laughing was Dad.

"Not Regent then," he said after we finally calmed down, and I caught the glimmer of anger in his expression. "Then who? I tried to narrow down Taylor's identity and the only one that works is Omen."

That stopped the remaining laughter as everyone exchanged glances, trying to subtly look to me for direction. I heaved out a sigh. This was it, wasn't it? The moment of truth. Why was I more nervous now than I was prior to ending Kaiser for a national audience?

"Because he's family," Reflex said softly.

"Alright, time to rip off the bandaid," I said as I began to call upon my swarm. "It's easier to show you, I'm —" Two moving vans I'd been idly tracking suddenly turned down our street. Two surprisingly bug free vans, in fact.

Fuck. "I'm fucking cursed. God fucking dammit."

"What? Shit, heroes, really?" Lisa asked, already standing up.

I nodded.

"Dad, did you call the PRT?"

My mind raced. Why did Dad come this early only for the heroes to show up? At least he seemed just as confused as the rest of us by the early morning visitors, even if he didn't have my local omniscience. The Butchers were less than pleased.

"What the flying fuck!?" Alkaline exclaimed.

"Wasn't killing Kaiser like that supposed to prevent the PRT from pulling something like this?" Sabertooth demanded.

"I swear, if Madcap sold us out…" Knockout sent a very clear mental picture of what he felt I should do to the now red-clad cape if he was involved in this.

"He was attacked by Hookwolf recently, they may be here for a statement," Reflex offered.

The entire collective laughed at him for the suggestion. Seeing the former hero pout in my mind, I gave him an equally imaginative pat on the back.

Sorry, but I don't think I'll be that lucky.

Immediately I began to gather a swarm, sending the most innocuous to investigate our visitors as I considered how I was going to tackle this. Chrissie's identity was thinly veiled at best, so if this was an attack, I had reliable backup that wasn't as at risk.

"Not yet." So, he had considered it. Of course he had. "Alan kept insisting I go sign you up, but I wanted to hear you out first."

This was Alan's ploy, then. Was he afraid I would out Emma to the Teeth? I figured my identity was shot the moment I confronted the Trio, but Madison had been rather explicit that the Protectorate was being discreet. The PRT, on the other hand…

Hell, Emma wasn't even in Brockton Bay anymore, not since Madison came clean to the heroes after I kicked the shit out of them. Even Sophia was supposed to be off duty until things wrapped up. Did they not realize that this bold of a move would out Emma to me regardless?

"If she isn't in the Bay, he may think it is safe now," Stratego noted.

Fuck.

Had Dinah known this would happen? Did we ask the wrong questions to see the problem coming, again? Damn precogs… useful as hell, but they made you second guess everything unexpected.

Shit, if things did go tits up, how was I going to get everyone to safety without murdering a hero or three?

What did it say about me that my first instinct when things got tough was to kill?

"Uh, duh? You're the Butcher? You're supposed to kill people for looking at you funny," Quarrel said in a sarcastic voice.

"Not helping right now," Fester hissed.

Dad was at the door now, putting his eye up to the peephole. He then breathed a sigh of… was that really relief!? Had Dad lied when he said he hadn't called the goddamn heroes to my house!? The bugs I had forming a perimeter began to buzz uncontrollably as I channeled my raw fury at his betrayal.

How dare he!?

"Breathe, Taylor," Chisel said softly. "Yes, this looks bad, but at least get all the facts first."

"He is probably still fearful that the Nazis may come calling," Reflex added. "Heroes would be a welcome sight when that is considered."

Damascian followed after him. "You have put in an admirable effort to maintain your civilian life so far. Do not sabotage your work in a moment of righteous indignation."

The relieved smile melted off of Dad's face when he returned to the kitchen to find five angry capes glaring at him. Well, four — Amelia was still dead to the world. The reprieve only lasted a moment, as the smile was replaced with Dad's stubborn frown. "Taylor, don't look at me like that. I talked to Alan, apparently accommodations can be —"

"They would never let us see each other again," Lisa said simply. "That's assuming some of us don't just go straight to jail. We'd all be Wards in different cities, and certainly not here."

Dad twitched at that — had Alan conveniently forgotten that part? It would be like him.

"I think I'd rather go to jail," Dinah muttered.

"Just swarm 'em and be done with it," Butcher said, sending a mental image of the heroes running away from an angry cloud of wasps.

Tempting. Aloud, I said, "Well Dad, unless you want me to be shipped off to Chicago or wherever, I would refrain from signing anything until you've read it completely. I'm sure the Protectorate has a great sales pitch." In my head, Alkaline rolled her eyes — she had already seen this, years ago.

"Taylor —"

"Dad, do you trust me?"

The question hung in the air long enough for the heroes to finish their initial assessment of the house and approach the front door. They knocked twice before Dad went to let them in without answering.

"We'll just hang out here," I called.

"Fine," Dad replied, opening the door a moment later.

As soon as it creaked open, Chrissie spun on me and pulled me close. "Quick, teleport to the arena and grab your gear!"

A no-longer-insignificant part of me wanted to do just that, to grasp at the flimsiest casus belli and ride the adrenaline high of a fight in my own front yard. Several of the Butchers cheered as I imagined the scene, but the rational part of me prevailed as I remembered the whole point of keeping my 'secret' identity.

Butcher XV was sane.

She could hold an actual conversation.

I would have to go out there and just be Taylor Hebert, not Butcher.

"Boo!" several of the others called in my head.

I found my voice. "That's plan B."

"You mean plan Butcher?"

Dad was all smiles, showing the heroes into the living room. The bug clusters I had positioned throughout the house finally got enough of a picture for me to identify the team. Miss Militia, the bitch that shot Chrissie. Triumph, the loudmouth. Aegis, the flying brick for brains. Shadow Stalker, the one person in the room most likely to shit themselves just from seeing me.

"Oh, this is too much fun to pass up!" Marauder was practically buzzing with excitement. "I wish we could see their faces!"

"Masks really can ruin the enjoyment sometimes," Pyro whined.

"Sorry to disturb you so early, but we thought it best to deal with this quickly," Miss Militia said.

"It's no trouble," Dad said, gesturing to the couch and loveseats where Militia and Aegis sat, while Stalker stayed upright and mobile. "Would anyone like some coffee?"

"Touch my coffee and I'll turn you inside out," Amelia grumbled from her spot at the table.

Chrissie let out a very undignified snort.

"Was that your daughter?" Aegis asked, looking towards the kitchen.

"Yeah! Get 'em Panpan!" Pyro cheered.

"No, that was one of her friends," Dad answered.

Miss Militia's eyebrows scrunched up at that. "We were hoping it would be just you and your daughter."

"Don't mind me, I'm per—" Amelia hiccuped. "Perfectly happy here with my coffee, thank ya much."

"Is she drunk?" Aegis muttered.

"Is Kaiser dead?" Stalker shot back.

"Huh, maybe she would have fit in with the Teeth after all…" Sanguine mused.

Ironsides chuckled. "You already got Madison to moonlight, why not try for the full set?"

A month ago, that thought would have horrified me. Now, I was just amused.

"Maybe if this turns out to be a recruitment pitch, I could flip it on them," I said softly.

"Do it! Do it!" the collective chanted.

"Just let me know when I can repay that cunt for my arm," Chrissie said from beside me.

"Irregardless," Triumph cut in, the wrong word undermining his attempts to retake the reins of the conversation. "We are here to speak with your daughter regarding something important."

Miss Militia chose then to speak up. "We received a tip that she might have been involved in an incident that led her to becoming associated with the Teeth. We were hoping to get a statement and hopefully dissuade her from falling in with villains."

Dad considered that for a long moment. "I just want what is best for my daughter. She hasn't been doing so well since losing her mother, but… I don't know what to do. She's been happier recently, even bringing friends over, but those friends are all in the Teeth. I can't imagine her being a criminal, much less a supervillain — hell, I'm not even sure if she really is a parahuman."

"Supervillains rarely make sense or have reasons for the way they hurt people," Triumph said, and I was tempted to go punch him right there for the arrogance in his voice. "But it sounds like she's a nice girl, so maybe we can help her."

"If your daughter is already a villain, this is her best shot at turning her life around," Militia said, placing a folder on the table. "Being an independent wouldn't erase her past crimes no matter how much good she did. With the Wards, a judge would consider it time served and her criminal record would be either reduced or expunged."

"S'what they did with me," Stalker muttered, clearly distracted by something on the wall.

Fester whistled. "Yeah, no. Annette would have castrated him, husband or no, with a rusty carving knife for even considering that."

"They've backed him into a corner even if he doesn't realize it," Ironsides agreed.

Those bastards.

Dad frowned. "I'm not signing anything without my daughter at least reading the contract, nevermind actually agreeing to it. Can I even do that? Sign her up against her will?"

"Er, yes?" Aegis replied, obviously confused about the question. "You're her legal guardian."

Miss Militia, however, was undeterred. "The only other option leads to us arresting her. Maybe not now, but sooner or later, she will be brought in, and then what? Any deal she's offered in the future will be significantly stacked against her in light of refusing this one. It's her best option."

"You're railroading her," Dad said, anger coloring his words. "Using that you know her identity against her. Even I know what a stupid idea that is; I've been reading about Weaver."

Dad's casual admission that he was researching me was surprising enough that my bugs froze — the fliers even fell from the air — while I completely lost track of the conversation for a few seconds. Miss Militia was trying to explain something while Stalker lazily walked around the edge of the room. Now Triumph was talking and if my bugs were accurate, Amelia was laughing as silently as a drunk teen could.

"Damn, that girl is a loud drunk," Pyro said.

"At least she's not a weepy one." Alkaline muttered.

"Who's the girl in the picture?" Shadow Stalker asked, her voice on edge as she looked up towards the back wall.

"Hmm? Oh, that's my daughter," Dad said offhandedly, rubbing the back of his head.

Stalker froze, stock still, her words came out choked. "You're telling me this is the girl we're here to recruit?"

"That's your cue, get out there before she spoils it!" Alkaline yelled, snapping me out of my spiraling rage.

"Wait for my signal," I whispered to everyone in the room with me.

Chrissie nodded in acknowledgement while Lisa flashed me a thumbs up. I almost ran out there immediately, but I wanted to make an impression of being completely unbothered, so I grabbed a piece of French toast, wrapped it around some sausage, and took my glass of OJ with me.

"Play nice," Amelia slurred, wiggling her coffee cup at me as I stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, forcing a tired smile upon my face.

"Oh wow… heroes," I said, perking up and rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands. The Butchers howled with laughter at what we could see of the guilty looks on the heroes' faces, and it took me considerable effort to keep a maniacal grin off of my own face. "What are you… wait, do you want some breakfast? I made a bunch," I said, taking a bite of my own. "Do you —"

Stalker had gone stiff as a statue upon seeing me appear, and then cut me off with her own bout of unhinged laughter. She nearly tripped over her own feet to edge away from me and back behind the meat shields, immediately drawing Aegis's attention as he jumped up to assist her. I didn't fail to notice that Protectorate heroes' eyes never once left me.

"Sorry," Stalker said, letting herself be helped upright and forcing down the last of her laughs. "Sorry, this is just too… too weird."

"It's just breakfast?" I asked, doing my best to appear confused. "I mean, you're heroes, it's the least I can do." Internally, I was still laughing at Sophia's reaction. Did she expect me to feed her to my bugs or something?

"She likely assumes that you are ignorant of her identity," Damascian offered.

Ironsides tsked. "A reminder may be prudent."

"Just don't break the Rules you worked so hard to establish as law," Reflex added.

"Miss Hebert," the senior heroine said seriously. "Please just… sit down. We would like to talk to you about several important topics, and your cooperation would be greatly appreciated."

"What the fuck is with her eyes?" Sabertooth asked.

"Jesus, is she trying to smile with them?" Alkaline wondered.

Marauder snorted. "It's creepy as shit."

"Oh-okay," I said, but as I moved to sit down next to Dad, my bugs made a great discovery — one of my knives, stuck point-down between the cushion and armrest. I must have lost it during one of the more intense make-out sessions with Chrissie. "How, uh, can I help a bunch of heroes? I mean, you're heroes and all."

Dad shot me an unreadable look just as Chisel let out an undignified snort. "Damn, how can you just fall back into the victim-voice like that on a whim?"

"What, are you jealous?" Sanguine teased. "Just because you couldn't keep your cool that one time —"

Enough. They didn't shut up, but they took the argument to something approximating the back of my mind.

"We're here because your father was concerned —" Triumph started, and I cut him off easily.

"Wait, really Dad? You called the heroes?"

Dad shook his head. "No, I didn't, but I can't say that I don't appreciate their timing. Taylor, I'm worried for you and —"

"Then who called you?" I cut in again. "I mean, I'm just a random girl, a nobody. Why would heroes suddenly want to talk to me?"

"Shit, too aggressive," Alkaline swore. "She's onto us."

Indeed, Stratego's power was informing me that Miss Militia was subtly shifting to a more battle-ready pose. It was possible that she didn't even realize that she was doing so, in which case I had to commend her instincts.

"Taylor, the father of one of your friends from school contacted us out of concern for your well being, and we're here to help." Miss Militia tapped the folder on the coffee table. "He's worried that you might have fallen in with the wrong crowd, but luckily the Protectorate is always happy to help young kids out of bad situations."

"Definitely the Barnes brat, then," Ironsides mused. "Militia's poker face is good, but I've beaten better."

"Danny couldn't keep his damn mouth shut," Fester spat.

I tilted my head in confusion, relishing the frustration that rolled across the heroes' exposed faces. "I don't understand. Bad situations?"

"Like joining the Teeth," Aegis said. "Look, we get it — the Teeth are scary and violent. I don't want to imagine what they threatened a nice girl like you with to join up."

"Oh, they're my only friends," I said easily. "Everyone else at school treated me like garbage, at least until…"

"Taylor, you fucking tease!" Pyro hooted, to the cheers of the other Butchers.

"Until?" Miss Militia prompted.

"Well, some girls tried to kill me at the beginning of the year. One thing led to another, and now the Teeth are my friends." I made a show of stopping to think. "Kind of? They're nice to me, at least. Then again, that might be because Butcher IV dated my mom in college."

"That's horrible," Aegis said, and for a moment I wondered if he really believed what he was saying. "But are you really sure you want to be associated with the Teeth? Wouldn't it be so much better to be a hero, instead?"

"Heroes don't get to do drugs — I asked," Alkaline complained. "So, no."

"Hero?" I asked, unable to keep a small smile off my face. "Why would I —"

"Taylor Anne Hebert." Dad stated firmly, turning to face me on the couch. "Stop giving them this run-around crap. The Protectorate is here now, and they are giving you a second chance at being the hero I know you always wanted to be. I understand that the Teeth are your friends, I really do — I've known plenty of good people with less than clean backgrounds — but are they really worth your future? Your freedom? Taylor, please don't throw your life away becoming a supervillain!"

"Wow Dad, want me to go get my mask so you can rip it off, too?" I nearly growled.

"Taylor, they're here to help you." Dad bit out. "Clearly you need it, because I know that your mother and I raised you better than this."

"Given that mom worked for Lustrum, I doubt that she would have approved of calling the heroes for anything," I shot back. "And besides, the heroes don't want to help me. They certainly didn't help at school, if it was even true that Wards went to Winslow."

My gaze flicked to Shadow Stalker for all of a moment, the gnat I had on her throat felt her gulp.

In the kitchen, all four of the Teeth capes were doing their best to hold in laughter… which was not very good at all. I bombarded Chrissie with flies until she got the message, prompting her to wander into the living room. "Oh come on, Danny, the Teeth aren't that bad," she tried, only to devolve into giggles. "Sorry, can't say that with a straight face. But at least we didn't try to kill you, right Tay?"

"She can't say the same!" Quarrel yelled.

"I guess we're ignoring Elliot's challenge?" Reflex asked.

Fester scoffed. "Nobody in this house tried to kill Taylor, Chrissie's point stands."

The heroes jerked to attention with Chrissie's arrival, with Triumph actually leaping to his feet before realizing that there wasn't a damn thing he could do and sitting back down. Miss Militia's power transformed to a Desert Eagle, though she didn't raise the hand that was holding the weapon. "Excuse me," the heroine said, "we're trying to speak with Miss Hebert here —"

"What you're trying to do is sell a five star chef a shit sandwich," Lisa said, also appearing from the kitchen, having gone around via the hallway door. Amelia's drunken laughter redoubled at that, and Lisa spared a single fond glance towards the healer before shrugging. "But she's not the one I'm worried about. What do you think Weaver will do if she finds out that heroes are confronting her capes out of costume?"

"EAT THEM!" Marauder bellowed, earning a punch down into the dark.

"Make an example of them!" Knockout shouted almost simultaneously.

Pyro nodded vigorously. "But set them on fire first! Barbecued hero!"

"What is wrong with you two?" Chisel murmured. "Sabertooth, shut the fuck up."

"I didn't —"

"You were thinking it."

"So you are a parahuman?" Triumph said, focusing back on me. "What — why are you being difficult? We're here to help you! That's a probationary Wards contract that will get you out of the Teeth and erase your criminal record, which is a hell of a lot better than most villains get!"

"How do you know I'm a villain?" I asked in my best villainous overlord voice, leaning back against the couch like it was my throne back in the lair. On cue, Chrissie draped her hands over my shoulders and smirked at the heroes. "Then again, with Coil being a PRT consultant and Wards causing my trigger event, I suppose I can see how you might have become confused."

"Damn, the hoodie would have been perfect for this," Alkaline said enthusiastically.

I ignored Stalker's panicked breathing and the Butchers' laughter, keeping my attention on the gun in Miss Militia's hand. "Don't compare us to the Teeth," the heroine said, voice cold.

"Weaver killed almost thirty people this week!" Aegis shouted.

"All Nazis that deserved it," I countered with a smirk, trying to not show my own distaste at hearing that number. "Try again."

"That number's only going to rise, you know that," Marauder stated.

Yeah, I'm aware. Still don't like it.

"We'll let you know when you become a centennial murderer!" Butcher said with a chuckle.

Asshole.

"Yeah Tay, don't compare us to the heroes," Chrissie agreed. "Not like we work for the Nazis. We have some standards, at least."

"No you don't!" Amelia yelled from the kitchen.

"We really don't," Ironsides grumbled.

"We have one standard," I corrected.

"Sorry, I'm with her," Lisa said, hooking her thumb towards her girlfriend. "You're great and your boss is hilarious, but —"

"You're Weaver."

It took me a second to realize that the comment came from Dad, who had twisted on the couch and was staring at me with wide eyes. The entire house went still for a moment that seemed to stretch forever as I did my best to decipher the expression on Dad's face, and it was only thanks to my precog sight that I was ready when everything went to hell.

Miss Militia was a fast draw, but I was faster. I pinned her hand against her leg with one of Knockout's force fields as I launched myself from the couch, punching Triumph in the solar plexus with enough force to flip him over the chair before he could suck in enough air, and the knife flew from my hand — when had I drawn it? — to pin Aegis's foot to the floor.

In that time Miss Militia freed her hand and leveled the pistol —

My brain locked up. Dad was in the potential line of fire.

"KILL THEM!" the Butchers roared in my head, and I was not totally sure how I didn't give in to their panic and murderous intent.

Instead, Butcher's power practically exploded out of me, washing over the four heroes, but only after the explosive retort of Miss Militia's gun did I realize that she might flinch and pull the trigger. My swarm filled the room a moment later, but not before a pained cry came from the kitchen and my bugs near Amelia tasted blood.

My brain caught up with the fight soon after, noting that Lisa had rushed into the kitchen while the PRT troops in the front yard were discovering just how unpleasant Chrissie's power could be, even without time to set up her usual traps.

"Now THAT's what I'm talkin' about!" Knockout yelled. "Damn girlie, you've got a hell of a right hook!"

"Go help Amelia you dipshit!" Alkaline snapped, and it took me a second to realize that I had just been staring at Triumph's helmet and wondering what it was like in there, given the smell of vomit.

Quarrel, however, had different priorities. "Deal with the heroes first! Just stab them while they're down and —"

I pushed her away, but turned my attention to the two remaining relevant heroes, as Aegis was literally nailed to the floor. Stalker was just laying there, and I swear I could hear her complaining about 'this shit again,' but Miss Militia was already getting back to her feet. I wanted to offer a witty villainous one-liner, but Dinah chose that moment to finally appear.

"Amelia's been shot!" she yelled. "Taylor, hurry!"

"I'm going to do the Protectorate another favor," I said forcefully, "and save Panacea from your ineptitude. Don't do anything else stupid, alright?"

I waited for Miss Militia's horrified nod, then darted into the kitchen and rushed over to where Amelia was lying in a small pool of her own blood. Her circulatory system leapt into my mind as soon as I nudged Lisa out of the way and stuck my finger into the blood; it was the work of moments to force the bullet out with Sanguine's power, recirculate the blood back into her veins, and block off as much of the bleeding as I was able to find.

That the bullet vanished as soon as it exited the wound was something the Butchers found fascinating, but I was too preoccupied to care. I barely even noticed Dad slipping through the kitchen and into the backyard, away from the capes.

Amelia blinked in confusion, likely due to the literal blood rushing to her head. "Taylor, you dumb fuck Butcher. You got me shot." She gestured at the few droplets of blood that had been disconnected from the main pool. "Does anything ever go right around you? One of these days you're going to have a positive interaction with a hero and I hope that I'm there to see it."

"Unlikely, but I'll save you a seat." Somehow I'd stitched her up with her own blood, and I would have been scratching my head on that if the scene in the front lawn wasn't so distracting. "Chrissie! Quit it with the razor fence, they look like they're re-enacting D-day out there."

"I resent the implicit Nazi comparison!" she retorted, but now was definitely not the time to split up our little party. I didn't want to imagine her and Miss Militia being left to their own devices.

I tried not to grimace when Triumph emptied his vomit-filled helmet on the carpet, but none of the heroes seemed to care when I sent in my swarm to clean that shit up. Aegis had already freed himself by that point, so before they could regroup, I formed up more of my swarm into a humanoid shape. "I think it is time that you took your friends and left. As you are no doubt aware, I have strong feelings about the Unwritten Rules. You should probably forget everything that happened this morning."

Miss Militia shook her head. "We're not retreating while you have Panacea."

"Or Dinah," Triumph croaked to himself.

"Go fuck yourself!" Amelia yelled in response, jostling the hot mug of coffee she was nursing as Lisa improvised a bandage with a towel. "Why did I fix your fucking eyes if you were just going to miss and shoot me through a goddamn wall?"

"Let's try this again," I said, channeling some of the Butchers' laughter into my bugs. Even if I couldn't get it right, trying to mimic their original voices made it sound a lot creepier. "Amelia and the rest are here as teenage girls having a relaxing sleepover after a stressful week. If, instead, we are villains plotting our nefarious takeover —"

"Seriously, 'nefarious?'"

"Shut up, Lisa."

"— then you just made an unprovoked attack on all of our secret identities. Among the Teeth, we call this 'pulling a Kaiser.'"

I swore that I heard at least two audible gulps.

That was when my bugs picked up something moving too damn fast on the outskirts of the spare relays I had set up around my radius. Whatever it was, the legal speed limits meant nothing as it tore through residential neighborhoods at breakneck speeds. The blue motorcycle came to a sudden stop out front, Damascian and Stratego let out low whistles of appreciation at the sudden, silent, and total reduction of momentum.

The rider divested himself and sprinted towards the front door, barking at the troopers and Velocity to stand down. They backed away, ceasing their nigh-ineffectual efforts chipping away at Vex' fields with rifle butts and crowbars. Armsmaster unlimbered his halberd, tweaked a setting that caused it to hum in the hearing range of several species of my bugs, then swiped it once through the space in front of the door. He then strode confidently through the space, not a single force field catching on his armor.

I returned to the living room just in time for Armsmaster to enter my home. "Well, now it's a party," I called, smirking at him as he strode into the gathering.

"Apologies for my late arrival, I was not made aware of this operation until five minutes ago."

"Five minutes from the PRT or the Rig?" Stratego asked.

"Does it matter?" Damascian said. "Either case is a wonder of engineering."

"Get wet over tinkertech on your own time," Fester snarled.

"Yeah, I'm trying to enjoy watching our girl work here!" Butcher said enthusiastically.

"You were left out of the briefing for a reason," Militia stated. "Piggot's orders were to—"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Remind me again, how did that excuse work out for those at the Nuremberg trials? Blindly following orders is never an excuse."

His halberd suddenly extended in his hand, snapping to full length as the butt impacted our floor. I was shocked when the floor actually held; oh well, one less repair bill after this is all over.

Lisa smiled, letting Amelia lean a bit more against her while looking directly at Militia. "Tell me, Beardmaster, maybe you can explain why the Protectorate thought it was a good idea to corner five unmasked Teeth capes in one of their homes?"

"I am unaware, as I said previously," he stated. "Unfortunately, this… indiscretion has complicated future plans for addressing the situation in Brockton Bay."

"Making plans behind Piggot's back? So naughty," Lisa said with a chuckle. "That tracks though, since so much of the Protectorate is divided on how to handle Weaver. What is it now, three adults and…" She glanced at Shadow Stalker. "Aww, only one of the kiddies currently in our corner. We'll need to work on that."

"Lisa, you're not helping nearly as much as you think," Amelia hissed.

"But she is," I said, stepping forward. "Everyone in the city is aware of the new balance of power, now that the PRT is the only force left in the city to oppose me. Logically, given our history, I would fight them next. That was your reasoning, was it not?"

Miss Militia's power became a ferocious assault rifle, but she was smart enough to keep it pointed at the floor. "You've also demonstrated a grudge against me in particular."

"You did kinda shoot me, you trigger-happy thundercunt!" Chrissie cut in, only to flex her arm to show off her prize. "Though, the badass scar does bump the experience up to a solid three out of ten. I'd still sooner see you maimed permanently than have this lovely conversation."

"Also Amelia!" Lisa added with a chipper tone and bloodthirsty grin.

The heroine nearly snarled at us. "That wasn't —"

"Never put your finger on the trigger unless you want something dead, not everyone has Quarrel's power," I chastised, then heaved a heavy sigh. "We're getting off topic so I'll make this clear. Get out of my house. Get out of my neighborhood, forget that you know where I live, forget my face, forget my friends. If I so much as smell you trying to pressure my family into doing anything stupid, well… sane or not, I'm still Butcher XV. We have a reputation for a reason."

"Ah, they seem to have finally understood who they're fucking with," Chisel said with satisfaction. And indeed, she was right — the heroes were shuffling towards the door, suddenly unwilling to turn their back on me and wanting out of my house all the faster for it. The two Wards slipped out once they were safely behind their Protectorate mentors, but Triumph hesitated at the door before joining them.

Sabertooth growled in frustration. "Calls himself a lion, can't even take a single punch."

Then the hero in question did something none of us were expecting — he removed his helmet. I'd have commented that he wasn't half bad looking if it wasn't for the vomit smeared across his face.

"Dinah, will you at least come with me?" he asked, voice obviously pained.

The littlest Tooth looked up at the man I now recognized as her cousin. There was sadness in her expression and far too much world-weariness, nevermind the grimace before she answered. "I'm sorry Rory, but I'm where I need to be."

He wanted to argue, or to plead — I could see it on his face. However, Miss Militia grasped his shoulder firmly and shook her head. I'd ordered the heroes gone; anything less might be construed as a prelude to all out war and everyone here knew it.

They left shortly after, complicated only by the fact that Chrissie had used her shields to pop the tires of the vans across the street. Hilariously, the PRT just abandoned them rather than stay in my range, lugging equipment like a bunch of pack animals down the street behind the five defeated heroes. At least Armsmaster was willing to load up his bike for them, ridiculous as it looked.

And I didn't even sting Sophia once!

Lisa was fussing over Amelia's leg now that we were in the clear and Dinah seemed ready to collapse in on herself. When I tried to talk to her she brushed me off and handed me my hoodie while pointing towards the backyard. Right, I still needed to talk to my dad.

"She knew something would happen, that's why she brought your jacket down," Sanguine pointed out.

Just don't, I don't have the energy to consider that bag of worms right now.

"Fair, today has kinda fucked the dog," Pyro said.

"Ain't that the goddamn truth," I muttered.

Chrissie gave me a quick hug and guided Dinah to the couch; I pretended to not see the tears running down the young girl's face. I hesitated for a second when I pulled the jacket on, realizing that the band aid had been ripped off and now I just needed to see what the damage was.

Dad was sitting in one of our aging lawn chairs and staring at our singular big tree. It took me a moment to realize that he was staring at the spot where the swing used to hang, where Mom would push me and Emma while we screamed in terror and excitement.

"Taylor, he knows," Knockout said slowly. "Look, I get it, parents and shit, but he's family."

"And it's not like he actually sold you out to the Wards," Fester admitted begrudgingly. "If he had, I would be telling you to just feed him to your bugs."

"True," I murmured quietly. "But…"

Chisel shrugged mentally. "But what? Family never takes the news well, that's part of being the Butcher. But he's still here and clearly loves you, so go do the thing that none of us really got to do."

"You did," Sabertooth growled. "At least a little."

"Taylor? You alright?"

"Hey Dad," I said, closing the remaining distance and sitting down in the other lawn chair. "Yes, I'm fine. Just… fuck, everyone else knows. It shouldn't be this hard." He waited politely until I finally breathed out and said, "I'm discussing things with the voices… the other Butchers."

Dad winced. "Other Butchers?"

"I didn't want this, Dad," I replied, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "I mean, who wakes up and thinks 'I want a dozen assholes in my head?'"

"Quarrel." "Knockout." "Alkaline." And so on.

"You're really her… Christ, Jeff shot you," Dad whispered.

"Lots of people have shot me… Which sounds absolutely horrible when I say it out loud," I chuckled, a sad, self deprecating laugh. "Thank fuck I'm bulletproof."

"You're really her then?"

"You know, I'm honestly surprised it took this long for the universe to spite me," I said softly. "Why couldn't my mask have just shattered when Hookwolf tore off my arm?"

Dad did a double take, looking me up and down with eyes shimmering in the morning light.. "You killed Hookwolf." I nodded once, and he took a deep breath. "I've watched my daughter kill people."

I wished that he were terrified or angry, but it was the compassionate despair on his face that made me close my eyes. "It's hard to explain. Killing them… barely even registered, and that scared me. Still scares me. I have the memories of all the prior Butchers, and the stuff they've done is far worse."

Realization crossed his face. "Kimmie. You have her memories of Annette."

I squirmed as Fester sent a particularly vivid memory forward. "God, that's a set of memories I never wanted, but at least now I know why you married Mom." Silencing the lot of them so I could have my moment with Dad, I continued. "I wanted to be a hero, even after inheriting. But, well, the heroes…"

I talked. Dad listened.

I cried a little, and he hugged me… hard.

However, he didn't leave me, and I wondered if things might be finally looking up.