Trigger Warning: Mentions of past suicide attempts in this chapter. If you have any such thoughts or concerns, please talk to someone or call your national helpline. Links to the SB thread for mental health resources can be found here.

Meetings 02

I bit my lip and tried my best not to fidget as Chris looked at my broken comms. Tattletale had tried to help me out, she'd really tried. She shouldn't have bothered. It wasn't going to matter. It never did.

Sometimes I wondered if it wouldn't have been easier if Emma hadn't found me before…before I'd…

I tasted blood and shook my head violently enough that my hair whipped my face. No, I couldn't think like that. I couldn't. I may not have much anymore, but I still had a few things. Dad was going to get better - eventually - so I had to still be there, smiling, when he was able to understand me again.

In the meantime, I just had to push through. I had made it this far, I could do this.

"Taylor, I can't fix this. These components are just too small, I can barely even see half of the things that go into this, let alone replace them."

"There's nothing you can do?" I hated how my voice cracked. I had just resolved to be stronger than this. I closed my eyes, and my hands clenched so tightly on my arms that they were probably leaving marks behind.

"Just ask Armsmaster to fix them up again. This is his specialty anyway. If Dragon wasn't the one who built them in the first place, then I guarantee you it was him."

"I tried, he was busy working on a new type of halberd. He said he wouldn't be able to get to it for a week and I have to patrol again in three days."

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do."

Dennis chuckled from the couch behind us. I didn't have to turn to know he was rolling his eyes. "You are such a shit tinker."

Chris folded in on himself. Wordlessly he handed the broken pieces of the earbud back to me.

"I could buff you!" I pleaded. "Maybe then you could -"

"Wouldn't help," Chris murmured. "Figured out my specialization last time: modular components. Thanks by the way. Sorry I can't help." He looked up at me and frowned. "I wouldn't want you to buff anyone right now anyway. You still look like death. Has anyone figured out why you can't keep food down?"

My hand closed around the remnants of the comms. I stared at it. What was I going to do now?

"Taylor?"

"What? Oh. Um, Medical said there was nothing wrong with me. They thought it was stress…"

Dennis grunted. "I keep telling you, you should have Dean talk to Amy to look you over."

I twisted to glare at him. "Like you've had him talk to Amy about your dad? At least mine has actual brain damage! You're just a damn coward and -"

"Taylor, what the fuck!" Carlos shouted. He came around the corner from the kitchen, scowling.

My jaw snapped shut and I squeezed my eyes closed again, the earbud in my hand a weight heavier than lead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean - I'm just tired and…" I couldn't keep saying that. I was always tired now. It was true, but they would stop thinking I meant it if I kept saying it. They already barely tolerated me as it was. Between my issues with Sophia and how I couldn't really help in most fights…I couldn't even blame them. Only Missy even seemed to try anymore.

"Is this about the communicator that Tattletale broke?" Carlos asked. "Christ, Taylor, if Armsmaster is busy, go to requisitions and get a new one. They only dock your pay for a week, it's barely $250."

"I can't afford that," I whispered. "Everything I make I use for the medicine…"

"What? Speak up, we can't hear you at all when you mumble."

"Nothing. It's…it's nothing." I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Dennis. I'll go to requisitions."

"Thank you," Carlos huffed. He sat down on the couch and reached for the remote. "Jeez, it's like herding cats sometimes."

I felt Dennis' glare burning a hole in my back until the door to the Common Room closed behind me. It would have been nice if he actually had heat vision. Things would have been easier that way.

No. Bad thoughts!

Slapping my cheeks, I forced myself to stand upright, making sure that my mask was on straight as I started walking down the short corridor towards the elevator. I liked my mask. It covered the top half of my face, was stylized to evoke strings of coiled rope in the etchings, and best of all, each 'braid' lit up gold when I stared at a specific spot. It let people know when my buffs were active!

I loved my mask. My costume wasn't quite as cool, the PR people had carried the theme through and had a lot of pretend rope knots threaded into the fabric. It wasn't the most stylish of costumes, even if it was eye-catching.

I still didn't really understand where they got the name 'Braid' from. My power didn't really link people together. It buffed them. Maybe I could sense them for a few moments while I was touching them and I knew that if I ever flipped the switch it would make more sense because then there would definitely be a connection. I would just have to -

I hissed, my fingers clenching hard enough to drive my nails into my palms and biting my tongue, drawing blood.

I buffed people. That was what my power was for. That was all my power was meant for!

There was no hamster grave in my yard. There. Was. NOT! I buffed people. My power was used to help. Something good had come from Emma interrupting me.

Something good had come from it.

It had.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, adjusted my mask one last time, squared my shoulders, and marched forward. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I raised my hand and knocked on the lab door. After fifteen seconds with no answer, I knocked again. I waited another fifteen seconds, carefully checking the light on the side to ensure that Armsmaster was still present, then hit the buzzer.

I was about to give up, when the door whisked open, pressurized air hitting me like a blast in the face. I didn't waste any time and hurried inside. Armsmaster didn't like to be distracted at the best of times and I'd already bothered him once today. Still, I needed to try one last time. I couldn't afford the reduction in pay a new communicator would cost. We had switched Dad's medicine recently and insurance hadn't agreed to the extra price yet. Kurt and Lacey helped where they could, but they had their own problems and they were already taking care of him as it was.

"Braid."

"Thank you for seeing me, Armsmaster," I said. He never looked up from the halberd he was working on. It didn't even look like he had changed positions since I had left him three hours ago. The only difference was he had a yellow-handled tool now instead of a blue-handled one. I still couldn't even tell what they were. "I know you said to ask Kid Win if he could look at the communicator, but he couldn't fix it."

The tool sparked, a small arc lighting up a portion of the halberd. Armsmaster nodded. Setting it aside he grabbed a hooked item with a black handle beside him. "Did he take the time to inspect it fully? He should have progressed far enough in his skills that it would be simple enough work for him."

"He said it was too small for him to work on. He…he did figure out his specialty. It…didn't sound like it had much to do with these components."

Armsmaster grunted. I waited for him to get through with the black tool. Something whined inside the halberd. After a few seconds it petered out and that item joined the used pile, next to its brother.

"Well, as I said before, I can fix it for you, but I need to finish this first. I've made good progress, but I don't expect to have the time to get to your repairs until at least Saturday."

"I know. The thing is, I have patrol again on Wednesday -"

"Then go to requisitions."

My shoulders slumped in defeat. "…Yes, sir."

"Was there anything else, Braid?"

I started to turn to leave, but stopped halfway through the motion. I was already here and god only knew when he would be back in the PRT offices. "Sir, I'm not supposed to have patrols with Shadow Stalker. It's in my contract."

His helmet lifted to focus on me and I had the distinct impression that he was blinking at me with a blank expression behind that visor. "Then don't patrol with Shadow Stalker."

"I'm not normally scheduled with her, but when people cancel, it's just, I'm usually the only one here - because I don't really like to go home - so it's just me and Vista. But I'm older, so I can be assigned to more hours than she can. So I get the extra time. And -"

"Don't take the extra time."

"I need the money, sir." My voice cracked again and I took a second to force my nerves down before I continued. "I need to be able to pay for my father's treatments. Console doesn't tell us who we're patrolling with if we accept the last minute assignments until we're already suiting up because it's, well, last minute. And at that point, we can't pull back without consequences - because it would be a double cancellation then - so we're stuck. Half the time, I don't even get the option to not accept because Wards can't patrol alone, and no Protectorate member is around so I have to step up or I'm the one who gets in trouble."

Armsmaster shook his head and turned back to the bench, reaching for another tool. "Braid, it sounds like you need to speak with Aegis. He runs the Wards, he controls assignments. If personnel are cancelling their patrols, he should correct it. If personnel are not informing you of who your partner is going to be, he should correct it. If you are running into difficulties with fines or punishment details, that is an issue to discuss with Deputy Director Renick. You should not be penalized for staying on base and the choice to patrol is yours and yours alone."

"So…"

"So if you don't want to patrol with Shadow Stalker don't patrol with Shadow Stalker."

"But I'm not given a choice…"

Armsmaster sighed. Something on his halberd shot a spark into the air, almost level with the top of his helmet and he cursed under his breath. "Braid, sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to do in this line of work. It's part of being a hero. If this is truly a problem, bring it up with Aegis and have him run it through the chain of command. In the short term, perhaps you can solve some of these problems by going home more often."

I couldn't go home. I couldn't face Dad. Not until he stopped drooling. Not until I stopped seeing myself reflected in him every time I looked at him. I needed to find somewhere else to live. Maybe then…maybe then I could stay away from the base more.

"Did you have a chance to take a look at the medical notes from my tests, sir? I know the doctors said there was nothing wrong, but I just…I'm always so tired now and…it has to have something to do with my power…right?"

"There was nothing anomalous in the reports. Your charging ability is somewhat similar to Battery - after a fashion. Perhaps you can speak with her. Maybe there is some aspect to your abilities you're not utilizing that drains you of strength. Now, if there's nothing else, I need to concentrate. I need to finish this assembly before I depart for the Rig."

"…Yes, sir."

I backed out of the lab, biting my lip. My buffs weren't like Battery's power. I'd have more luck going to talk shop with Othala.

Maybe I'd get lucky and someone would capture her for a few hours and I actually could talk about powers with her?

Yeah, and maybe Sophia would tell me why she hated me so much at the same time too. And buy me flowers. And profess her eternal love.

I trudged down to requisitions. I was going to have to skip lunch for most of the week now in order to pay for this and Dad's meds.

I should've just been a villain, at least then I would've made enough money to eat and buy drugs.

No one would want a two-bit villain like me though.

\/\/~*.' '.*~\/\/

Forward

"How certain of the timeline are we?" Miss Militia asked.

"95%" Armsmaster replied. His bike roared under him as he completed a sweep down yet another empty road. "Section 6 clear, no sign of Tattletale or Braid. Moving on to Section 7."

"Acknowledged. Armsmaster, you've been out there for seven hours. I think it's time to come in and rest. You're no good to her if you collapse while you're in the middle of the street."

Armsmaster didn't say the first thing that came to his mind, nor did he say the second. He didn't even respond with the third. He waited until he was calm enough to reply with a steady voice before he said, "She is still out here. She is alone. She is terrified. She still thinks we're hunting her for revenge or reprisal. And now she's killed 42 people, all of whom were trying to kill her, Vista, and Tattletale. No. I am not returning to base, Miss Militia. It's bad enough I had to wait long enough to give everyone the briefing. I will find Braid. I will bring her home."

The line was silent for several seconds. After a long enough pause that he was able to nearly finish the next grid, Miss Militia came back. "Sir, it's not your fault that this happened."

"Yes, it is. I didn't pay enough attention. I missed something. She asked for help somewhere, and I missed it. We all missed it. She's a Ward. She's my responsibility. She looked up to me. I let this happen. I'm going to find her. I'm going to bring her home."

"Armsmaster -"

"Section 7 clear. Moving on to Section 8. Please relay to Grue and Hellhound that I will overlap in their search grids in 12 minutes."

\/\/~*.' '.*~\/\/

After getting my new communicator, I nearly ran directly into Gallant when he stepped out of the stairwell in front of me as I headed back to the elevator. He flinched away as I glared at him. He flinched away from me a lot these days; always more so after he missed a patrol. I couldn't blame him, but I did shrink back as well, as I tried to reign in my anger. It wasn't his fault that Sophia was horrible. Dean and Vicky were on-again, off-again so much that he just wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. I couldn't fault him for that.

Even if he was the only one who consistently screwed me over regarding Sophia.

"Hey, Braid," Gallant said, his hand lifting in a wave that he aborted halfway through. "I meant to come by earlier, but I got caught up at home. I'm sorry about last night."

"It's fine." It wasn't.

"It was a bad move on my part. I should have checked the schedule."

"You shouldn't have been late," I snapped.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. I know you're mad at me, but please don't take it out on Glory Girl too. It wasn't her fault."

I knew that. Vicky wasn't a Ward. Vicky didn't have our patrol schedules. Vicky didn't even know that Sophia was supposed to be separated from me. It should have been hard to be mad at Vicky when Dean was the one who should know better.

But it wasn't.

I wanted to yell at Vicky too every time this happened. Which made me feel even more guilty since, other than Missy, Vicky was the only one who invited me to hang out.

"Just don't let it happen again, Gallant." It would happen again. It always happened again.

"Yeah, of course."

I stalked past him. I was going to go home. I couldn't stay here and risk running into Sophia tonight. I couldn't even afford to get dinner at the cafeteria after getting my new comms.

"Oh, hey, Director Piggot asked to see you before you left for the night. She was free for the next half hour, so it might be best to just get it over with."

I stopped, one foot in midair, one hand pushing the elevator button. Looking back over my shoulder at him, I saw him take a step back and hold his hands up in front of him.

"I'm just the messenger, Braid."

"Go fuck yourself, Gallant."

I stepped into the elevator without waiting for his reply. I punched the button for the Director's office and waited for it to slide to a stop near the middle of the building.

It would be nice if the burst of energy from my anger had stayed with me long enough to carry me through this next meeting, but of course my luck wasn't having any of that. No, the perpetual exhaustion came back as the doors opened again and my shoulders slumped. Dealing with Piggot was hard on the best of days. Dealing with her when I was tired and hungry was a nightmare.

"Hi, I'm here for -"

"She's already waiting on you, Braid. Go on in," the secretary said, waving me towards the door.

Perfect.

I didn't bother trying to be polite like with Armsmaster. It never helped with her. I just pushed the door open and dropped into the chair across from her desk, waiting for Piggot to finish typing whatever report she was writing. After about two minutes, she had finished her work and turned to me, scowl firmly etched on her face and hands clasped.

"Braid. You're late."

"I didn't know we had a meeting, Ma'am. I've been trying to get my communicator fixed for most of the day. I would've thought someone would tell me I had a meeting."

"If you had gotten a new one earlier, you would have been aware sooner."

"Yes, Ma'am." Fuck you too bitch.

"How many times have we had this conversation, Braid? I grow tired of it."

"Which conversation is that, Ma'am?"

Piggot's scowl deepened. "Don't be coy with me, Braid. You went off on your own in the middle of a patrol and you got accosted by villains. You didn't even call it in before you were taken down. This is the third time you have wandered off in the middle of a patrol, Braid! Soldiers have been court-martialed for less."

I clenched my hands in my lap, trying to fan the flames of my anger enough to push my exhaustion away. "I was a single street over from Shadow Stalker, Ma'am. She regularly gets much further away from the rest of us when she goes out on patrols."

"She can take care of herself."

"She's on probation, I'm not! I'm not even supposed to be within 50 feet of her. It's in my contract!"

"You accepted the patrol assignment, Braid. Your personal problems are not my issue. Your performance of your duties however, are my concern."

"Because the PRT fines me if I turn it down while I'm on base and no Protectorate member is available! What am I supposed to do?!"

"As I said, Braid, your personal problems are not my concern." Piggot leaned back and slid a piece of paper across the desk towards me. "You are being assigned remedial lessons. You're expected to complete all course work before being allowed back onto a patrol without a senior member. Senior members include Aegis, Gallant, and Shadow Stalker. They will be your sole patrol partners for at least the next two weeks."

My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe. "I'm not supposed to patrol with Shadow Stalker!" I managed to shout.

"What if you hadn't run across the Undersiders, Braid? What if it had been Hookwolf, or Oni Lee, or even Cricket?" Piggot snapped. "I don't know how many times I can say this or how many different ways I can put it. I. Do. Not. Care. About your issues with Shadow Stalker. Deal with it. You are in the same Wards team. You have to work together, or you have to move to another city. You are a ward of the state, you entitled little brat. You don't get to make demands or sign your own contracts. We do that. Unless Daniel Hebert miraculously recovers his wits, you do what we tell you until you hit eighteen. Is that understood?"

I should have been a villain.

"Let me try putting this in terms you can understand. I am trying to keep you alive, Braid," Piggot growled. "You can barely enhance two people before you're falling back. Until you get your stamina up, you are completely useless on your own. Every time you wander away from your partner on patrol is another chance that one of these gangs will kidnap you, torture you, and kill you. That's the best case. Worst case is they stick you in a room - or a van - and use you like a battery, pumping their forces up before each engagement with your power, until you pass out."

"I get it," I snapped.

"So whatever problems you have with Shadow Stalker, bury them under a little rock, suck it up, and work with her. Or just let yourself die. Because that's what happens if you can't get over yourself. You want to stop being treated like a child, Braid? Stop acting like a child. Get out of my office."

"Yes, ma'am." I stalked away from her, not looking back.

What hurt the most was that I couldn't even say she was entirely wrong. She was being intentionally hurtful, yet, my power was useful like that. And if the gangs did get me, they would probably abuse my ability like that. I was endangering myself whenever I went off alone. I couldn't fight by myself, I couldn't defend myself.

She didn't have to be so mean about it though.

Maybe I should move. There was so little left for me in this city anymore…

I stopped by my house for the mail. I had been intending to just get the mail and then continue on to Kurt and Lacey's, but…after the past few hours, I just couldn't muster up the strength to finish that walk. I didn't want to see them. I didn't want to see Dad.

I didn't particularly want to see my house either for that matter, but…it was better. At least there was one positive thing here. I had gotten my sister back after all so…that was a plus.

I sat down at the kitchen table, sorting out the bills and the junk. One unmarked letter stood out as I finished with the mail. Frowning, I flipped it over trying to figure out who had sent it. Still not finding any return address, I sighed.

"Well, might as well see who likes to be mysterious." It was the work of mere moments to get into the letter. Inside was a 'Get Well' card with an adorable cat on the cover. It was wearing scrubs and a stethoscope with the words 'Hope you're Feline better' below it. I gasped, my heart beating faster as I stared at the card.

Someone got me a card? Someone cared enough to send it to me? There was no postage or return address so they had to have dropped it in my mailbox directly. They cared that much? Who would bother? Missy? But Missy was too busy trying to deal with her own family problems. And Emma was away at the facility; she'd be there for a few more weeks at least if not months.

I barely even noticed the small stack of bills that slipped out, falling to the table, as I opened the card. Who sent cash in a card these days?

Braid, sorry I had to run, hope this covers the earbud. I stand by what I said, bitch shouldn't have talked to you like that. They didn't seriously charge you for the replacement did they? If they did, man am I glad to be on the other side!

-T

P.S. I won't tell anyone where you live. Sorry, couldn't help figuring it out: I'm psychic :p

P.P.S. Seriously, Braid, eat something, and rest. You're going to kill yourself if you keep going as hard as you did last night. More heroes on my cute ass sucks, but that doesn't mean I want them literally dropping dead in the street. Take care of yourself. Please.

My eyes widened, I clutched at my shirt, my breath coming in short pants. Tattletale. Tattletale had sent me the card. Not the Wards. Not Emma. Not even Vicky.

Tattletale.

The Villain.

The Villain that had helped me while I was collapsing in front of her.

My hand shook as I picked up the cash. It wasn't a rubber-banded stack of twenties like I had assumed. They were hundreds. I flipped through the stack twice, making sure I counted it correctly.

"Two thousand dollars?" I whispered.

Well…apparently I could afford dinner now…