AN: The third of several side-stories I'm porting over from Spacebattles. This was again, originally written by anothvortex. Shared here with his permission.

Side-Story: A Cry for Closure

Looking out on the patio of the Boardwalk cafe, Zoe asked herself what she was even doing there. A part of her wanted to pay her check, drive home, and forget about the meeting that did not happen. The rest of her felt like there was no other option than to stick it out. This was about more than Emma or Taylor at this point. This was about her ability to look in the mirror without flinching.

She had tried to stay on top of things with Taylor, but in practical terms the mother was limited. Between her own therapy, caring for her youngest and coordinating with her oldest, affirming Alan's place in the couch, and so on, there were all the reasons in the world not get involved. Her increased phone traffic with Lacey, probing calls with the Youth Guard, and the additional information from PHO of all places, just affirmed what she already knew. The PRT would not listen to her speak on Taylor's behalf, nor would they start acting in her best interests without pressure that Zoe could not provide.

So she had decided to work on what she could do instead.

Lacey had contacted her the previous day with an invitation. Taylor's new friend Lisa had reached out, having grown more and more concerned with the girl's health. During their discussion, Zoe's name and recent attempts to help had come up and now the teenaged stranger wanted a meeting. Uncomfortable about the whole situation, the red head had decided to put up or shut up. After all, maybe the teen would have an idea that she had overlooked?

Anything was better than this continued sense of helplessness.

Before Zoe could bring herself to leave, a throat cleared itself behind her. Turning, she saw someone who could only be the mystery girl known as Lisa. On the surface, she seemed like a nice looking young girl. Clear skin with a light dusting of freckles, blonde hair in a simple braid, nice if understated clothes and bottle green eyes painted a picture of artificially casual beauty that would not have looked out of place in Emma's modeling circles a year or two ago. But something in her gaze was a touch too knowing, her smile was slightly too sharp, and Zoe felt a spike of anxiety. Somehow, the mother felt like this Lisa was judging her and finding her wanting, a sensation that she felt like she deserved.

The two began their small talk. Lisa was clearly intelligent, and very well read. Despite her sense of unease, Zoe could not help but get drawn into the flow of the conversation. They managed to consume nearly two cups of coffee and a pastry each, and if not for the sharpness of her eyes or the slightly rigid cast of her face, the older woman would have called the meeting with the teen a delight.

But eventually, the coffee ran dry and so did the chat. The two sat there in silence for a few minutes before Lisa spoke again, her voice holding a subtle edge. "I'm glad that you were able to meet with me today. I was hoping that you might help me out with something."

Wishing that she had ordered another drink, or at least taken the opportunity to visit the rest room earlier, Zoe replied. "I'll certainly try. You seem like a nice girl." A judgmental, too clever by far girl, but there was niceness somewhere in there.

Sighing, Lisa seemed to slump into her chair. "Lacey probably told you that I'm Taylor's friend. Never for a moment doubt that, please. She's a good person and I'm glad to know her. But I'm trying to help her and I don't think I can do enough on my own. I need more information, but she just clams up whenever I try to ask too many questions. I don't like going behind her back, but something needs to be done."

Swallowing, Zoe nodded. "I am worried about her, but I don't know what I can do. Taylor won't accept my help, and she was always such a shy child. With her mother gone, and Danny unavailable, there just isn't a large pool of people to call on to support her."

Suddenly, Lisa's relaxed posture seemed to straighten, with eyes that flared in the fading sunlight. "You know, I keep hearing things like that. But Taylor has a friend that she won't talk about in any real depth. Your daughter Emma to be precise. Now I think Taylor is a very sweet kid, but sometimes I worry that she is too forgiving, or maybe too accommodating. So why don't you tell me what this big secret is? Why the hell do you feel so guilty, yet aren't making time for her? Instead of, you know, talking to everyone BUT Taylor directly about what she's going through? Because I'm tired of seeing her hurt and no one else acting on it."

Feeling like she had been punched in the gut, the older woman closed her eyes. While rude, and not really any of the girl's business, the question left her feeling slightly happy. This was the first proof that she had of Taylor having a real advocate. Separate from whatever nonsense the PRT or the Wards were forcing on her. It gave the woman some much needed hope for the poor girl's future.

Taking a breath, Zoe decided to answer. It might skirt some laws, but if the PRT could not keep their own legal obligations, why should she? "Over a year ago, Taylor was away at Summer Camp. While she was there, my daughter was attacked by a group claiming affiliation with the ABB. During said attack, a local vigilante managed to rescue both her and my husband." Seeing the blonde's eyes widen, she knew that Taylor had refused to reveal anything.

That girl was much more understanding than her family deserved.

Gripping her empty coffee cup, the mother forced herself to continue. "They didn't tell me anything about this at the time, but the vigilante found my daughter at the scene of the attack a few days later. She was lost, confused, and in pain, but somehow this new girl was able to get her out of her room and talking again. I was terrified that if I looked too hard at things, I'd just see everything tumble down again. I was happy about how this new friend seemed to be able to get Emma somewhat back to normal."

Lisa let out a heavy sigh. "But it wasn't normal, was it?"

Closing her eyes at the remembered pain, Zoe nodded. "This savior, this HERO poured poison in my daughter's ear. Unbeknownst to me, she presented a stupid, self-destructive survivalist theory that encouraged Emma to find validation in hurting others. When Taylor came home from camp, the new girl didn't want the competition. She pointed my daughter at Taylor and encouraged them to fight. Emma's not very physical, but she is good with words. So she started using them to hurt Taylor. That went on...for far too long."

Forcing herself to look at the blonde, all she saw was a pensive frown. Then she spoke and the red head felt the blood drain from her face. "That explains a lot of what I've seen with Taylor, except for one thing. Why do you feel so guilty? I know that Emma did something to make up for things, and Taylor forgave her. You don't have to give me any details about that, I've already gotten more than I expected today. But this is really eating at you. Why?"

Taking a deep breath, the mother decided she needed to tell someone. Her therapist might be best for her own needs, but Lisa was in the best place to do some real good. What was her pride compared to that? "Danny, well he did not do well after Annette died. Taylor was coming over practically every weekend for months, more upset each time. Emma finally got her to admit that there wasn't enough food in the house, and she couldn't get Danny to listen to her about it."

Feeling a well remembered rage, Zoe bit her lip. "I told Alan that he had to get that man's head on straight, or we were going to take Taylor into our home properly. He got an intervention together, and things seemed like they were, if not fixed, at least stable. But then Emma's attack happened, and Taylor didn't come around anymore. Whenever I asked, there was always some excuse. But now, I wish I had done it. That I had dragged Taylor away from that idiot until he actually got the help he needed. That Taylor had been there to help Emma deal with her pain, that they could have supported each other, that any number of things had happened. Taylor might of hated us, but it would have been better than this!"

Leaning back from the sudden increase in volume, Lisa was about to reply before her phone went off. Frowning, she checked it before her eyes widened in surprise. Holding a finger up in the universal gesture for quiet, the teen started talking. With that, the fire in Zoe's veins turned to ice. "Taylor? Taylor what's wrong? Work problems? Alright, I'm out for the evening, but kind of on the wrong end of Downtown. I can meet you by the Boardwalk in about thirty to forty minutes. Good? Okay, I could use a bite. No, I need to eat, and you need to eat, no arguments. Something light on me, I had a big lunch, and I don't want you to overdo it by accident. Oh, I have an idea! No, it'll be a surprise. Meet you at that bench by the pier!"

The whole time, despite the upbeat tone of voice, the blonde did not break eye contact with Zoe at all.

Once she hung up, Lisa frowned. "If you want to avoid running into Taylor right now, pay the check and leave. I don't think either of you could really handle meeting at the moment. As it is, I'm not thrilled that I had to hang up on her. It sounds like today was a very bad day."

Nodding woodenly, Mrs. Barnes reached for the check before the teen caught her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. Looking up, the woman saw that the earlier suspicion in the blonde's eyes had somehow become compassion. "You made mistakes, but you didn't mean to make them. That doesn't absolve you, but I don't think you're a bad mother. If you really want to help Taylor, get Emma all the help she needs. I can tell that, nasty words or not, my friend misses her sister. Now get going before you make a scene."

With that, Lisa walked away, leaving a stunned but slightly lighter Zoe in her wake.