Fortification 1.01

It's been weeks since I'd last seen my daughter. I remember it vividly-some officers from the PRT had come to the house that evening, two at the door, and four by their van. Two of them armed with those foam weapons. They had said that Taylor had a trigger event at school, and had gone on a rampage. I didn't believe a word of it, that's not my Taylor, but the officers insisted and demanded that I tell them where Taylor might be. Before I could answer, Taylor came walking around the corner. She froze when she saw the agents and then they spotted her. They didn't even try to talk with her, they just ran after her and she fled. I felt my blood boil when they doused her in that foam, and then she exploded. A pulse of energy vaporized the foam and knocked back the officers, and Taylor ran. That was the last time I saw her.

At first, I was in shock, but a few days later I went combing through Taylor's room. I searched her closet, under her bed, I ever went through her computer. There had to be something that would prove her innocence. What I found was a laundry list of charges-it seems like the entire school had ganged up on Taylor and the teachers had done nothing about it. And Emma Barnes had been the ring leader. Emma had been Taylor's best friend. Her father, Allan, had been mine, but when I confronted him about this he threatened to destroy me financially if I kept trying to "slander Emma's good name." Some friend he turned out to be.

Driving myself into financial ruin wouldn't help Taylor, so I put that problem on the back burner-meaning I couldn't go after the school either, not yet because that would set off Alan. So I'm going to to the PRT and straighten this whole thing out-I had proof that Taylor was bullied by the whole damn school. Maybe, just maybe, that'll put doubt on whatever witnesses claimed that Taylor attacked other students.

*Break*

Director Piggot was an unhealthy woman. She was somewhat obese and apparently had diabetes or kidney problems-I'd twice managed to schedule a meeting with her, only for her to have to cancel because of dialysis complications. It's been a week since I scheduled the first meeting, and two since I'd started navigating the red tape to get this meeting in the first place. In that time I've been harassed by PRT officers twice, once at my office. They were demanding to know anything and everything I could tell them that might lead to Taylor's capture. But I've got a meeting now. The director seemed exasperated as she flipped through Taylor's journals. She hardly seemed to be paying attention.

"Mr. Hebert, I understand where you're coming from. But what you need to understand is we have credible witnesses to what your daughter did that day. I saw the claw marks on her victim's arm with my own eyes. We have photographs of the injury and of the property damage she inflicted on the school-they match."

She handed the journals back to me, and I was torn between shock and fury as she essentially waved the evidence away as if it was nothing.

"But the journals-"

"Mr. Hebert. We did an investigation into the school. There is no evidence that any of these events took place-no witnesses. From what the staff of Winslow said, your daughter was an isolated loner. The students at Winslow supported the story and mentioned that it had been rumored for a long while that she was mentally unstable. It's entirely possible that she felt persecuted and imagined these scenarios herself."

My blood was boiling again.

"Taylor wasn't-"

"And, Mr. Hebert, even if these events did happen, it doesn't change what she did. The best case scenario for your daughter is that she turns herself in and we'll be more lenient on her. If you have any contact with her, it's important that you tell her to turn herself in."

"...My daughter isn't insane, Director. She wouldn't imagine being bullied, and she sure as hell wouldn't go on a rampage through the school like some animal."

She sighed,

"Mr. Hebert. Let's say you're right. That everything in that journal occurred just as your daughter wrote it, that she was perfectly sane. That doesn't matter. Trigger events change people. A trigger event is quite simply the single worst experience most people will ever have. Parahumans can't help but use their powers-some of them, especially Tinkers, seem almost compelled to use them. Combine a traumatic experience, newfound powers, and a compulsion to use them, and you have a recipe for disaster. She went on a rampage, and needs to be brought in."

"But Director-"

"Mr. Herbert."

She sounded quite annoyed.

"I understand that you've got a desire to protect your child, but it's out of your hands. Please, let us handle this."

And then she called for someone who showed me out. I'm just glad that she didn't try to keep the journals. I don't know who to go to next, but I know that I'll still need the journals when I figure it out, and I doubt making a scene trying to get them back would help my case. I need to get to work, I'll think on this later.

*Break*

I was working on my car. I'd done that a lot since my Annette died. Little things, here and there. Every so often I'd get an idea for how it could be better. Safer, more fuel efficient, how to make it ride easier, that kind of thing. Just something simple here and there. At the time we figured it was just my way of coping with the accident, but over time it just became a habit of mine, something to do when I was stressed. I took a moment to wipe some motor oil off of my hands when I heard a knock at the door. I answered and it was Kurt.

"How are you holding up?"

"As well as you can expect, I guess."

"I didn't get a chance to ask you, how did it go at the PRT."

I sighed.

"It was a complete waste of time. She barely looked at the journals and made some excuses about how parahumans are different from regular people. She even told me to tell Taylor to turn herself in, if I got in contact with her. If I knew where she was, I wouldn't need the PRT in the first place."

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

There was an awkward pause.

"We're all keeping our eyes and ears open for any sign of Taylor."

"I know. Thank you."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Maybe I can try the Mayor's office, but… I need more money. I'm not going to get anywhere without a lawyer. So for now, I'm going back to work. I'm going to do the best job I can, and I'm going to pinch every penny and use every cent to get my daughter back.