Snuggles the Symbiote

Snuggles had made a comment about not having bathed in a while and the Director had had a female agent escort her to a locker room so she could use the facilities. I'd followed them with some flies, ants, and roaches that were in the building while sitting in the director's office.

"Now, Miss… You know," the Director began, "it would be much easier if I had a name to call you by, even if it was only a temporary one."

"Yeah, well… All the bug names are either taken, sound villainous, or are just bad. I mean, who'd want to be called Maggot or Grub?"

"You know, it doesn't have to be directly related to your powers," The director said, "it could be a more indirect reference or completely unrelated at all."

I thought about it for a second. Something indirect… I looked down at my costume… "Well, as long as I'm not stuck with it, I guess that maybe 'Silk' works as a filler name."

"Well then, Silk, I have to ask how old you are?"

"...Fifteen," I answered, "why?"

"Because you can't legally join or leave the Wards until you're sixteen unless you have the permission of your parents or legal guardians." The director explained matter of factly. "Now, since your friend is a homeless orphan, it's not an issue for her, as she can be declared a ward of the state, pun not intended, and placed in the PRT's custody," she went on, "but unless your birthday is in… half an hour," she said, checking her desk clock, "then you're going to need to contact your legal guardian."

Damn it. "...I didn't want him to know I was doing this."

"And when I was your age, Silk, I wanted to ride a tyrannosaurus," the director said with a straight face, "but sometimes what we want isn't possible and wouldn't be a good idea even if it was. Do you have a phone?"

I shook my head, and she offered me her desk phone. I sighed and started dialing. One ring, two rings, three.

He picked up. "Hello?" came Dad's voice. He sounded angry, and worried, and…

"Dad?"

"Taylor?" he asked, "Where are you? What's going on!?" Oh, I didn't like that tone.

"I'm at the PRT headquarters," I said simply, "I need you to come and..."

"Do I need to bring a lawyer?"

"No."

"Is there a body I need to look for and hide before I get there?." My eye twitched. I wasn't sure if I should be happy that Dad loved me enough to hide a body or angry that he thought I might have killed someone.

"Dad, I'm not in trouble." I tried to explain. "Also, I'm sitting right in front of the director and using her phone, so this is maybe not the best time to joke about that."

"Okay, okay," he said. He sounded calmer but still irritated.

"I just need you to come here and," the director slip me a piece of paper with a line highlighted, "and tell the woman at the desk that 'the duck quacks at midnight.' Apparently there's some kind of security thing and that password will get you brought right to where I am, so..."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you"

"...Love you too."

We hung up at the same time, and then I began just sitting there awkwardly. The director began working on some paperwork that had been on her desk… I looked down at my backpack, thankful that I'd insisted on retrieving it before coming in, but desperately wishing that I'd packed a book.

The agent had gotten Snuggles down to a locker room. She pulled the younger girl aside for a moment, which prompted Snuggles to recoil. At first, I felt anger and concern, but then the flies in the locker room detected the smells of flowers and chemicals, so maybe it was the agent offering shampoo from her locker and it was too strong? The girl moved to what I presumed to be the showers, and I averted my attention to let her have her privacy, though I kept some focus on the agent, who'd moved to stand outside the locker room door.

I wasn't sure of what else I could do… I mean, I have to imagine that a lot of stuff here was to be kept secret… I grabbed some of the bugs in the building and set some up in the lobby and some others outside, so I'd know when Dad got here. I started tapping my foot, and after a few seconds I started counting and mapping the various bugs in and around the building by type, variety, and location just to have something to do.

Ten minutes later, Snuggles stepped out of the locker room and after a short conversation I couldn't make out, she and the agent made their way to an elevator. About five minutes after that, they arrived in the office and Snuggles immediately skittered up an uncovered bit of wall and sat frog-style on the ceiling. The director sighed, and the Agent left.

"Uh, I didn't want to say this in front of her," Snuggles said, "But Ms. Smith has really bad taste in shampoo. It was like a flower farted."

"Snuggles," I called up, "my Dad's gonna be here soon and he's gonna help us work out this thing about the Wards."

"Okay," she said cheerfully. Then part of her costume started expanding and oozing out until it solidified into a shiny, bio-mechanical looking tentacle that ended on a sphere and three pinching claws, which then turned to me.

"Uh..."

"Oh, I was explaining what a handshake was to Mister Snuggles a little bit ago," Snuggles said. "He wants to try it, so..." Ah, what the hell. I carefully clasped the offered tentacle, which gently wrapped around my arm, and shook.

After a moment, the tentacle retreated and Snuggles gave the impression that she was beaming behind her mask. "He's happy now."

"Yes, well," the director spoke up, "when Silk's father gets-"

"Silk!?" Snuggles interrupted.

"It's a temporary name I'm going with for now, until I can think of something permanent," I explained. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Where we're from," Snuggles began, "Silk is the name of a hussy who goes around in a bathing suit made from her weblines. She's a witch or something that copied Spider-Man's powers and tries to seduce him with evil mind control pheromones while posing as a hero… I think. Some people say that she got bit by the same radioactive spider as Spider-Man, but then where has she been for the last forever, huh?"

"Okay. So, not Silk," I said as I crossed that off the list, "well, it was a filler name anyway." No sign of Dad yet. "So, Snuggles, maybe tell me a little about yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like," I thought about it, "like the kind of music you like."

"Oh, well, I really like Country music and Folk music," she started, "and a little bit of the old school Rock and Roll, and I kind of like Estelle's music but that's mostly because she does songs in a cartoon I like… That won't be out for a few years because I didn't just go to another universe, I also traveled back in time." I had no idea who Estelle was. "Uh… Quick question, did a movie called The Princess Bride get made here?"

"Yeah," I said, "I've never seen it, but I've read the book and heard that the film's got a huge cult following." I wasn't sure if it'd be the same as in her universe though: Movies and books from a certain point after Scion began to deviate between Earth Bet and Earth Aleph and based on her talks about Super Soldiers in World War II, her world had deviated a lot earlier than that, but she suddenly seemed a bit relieved and I didn't have the heart to tell her.

My eyes outside saw a familiar looking truck come up front, and shortly afterward Dad came into the lobby. While he spoke to the woman at the desk, my attention was brought back to Snuggles as she looked at her hand, shifting it back and forth from normal to the clawed appearance it'd taken earlier. "Hey," she said, "we can make claws!"

"Yes," I said, "you can. My dad's in the building, he's gonna be here soon."

The director looked up. "How do you know that?"

"If there's a bug anywhere in about two blocks, give or take," I explained, "I can see and hear everything it does."

"Okay then," the director acknowledged.

"Anyway, Snuggles?" I asked with a turn to the little girl on the ceiling, "That tentacle looked a lot more… Mechanical than your tail."

"Uh… um..." Snuggles grumbled… "Uh, I can't quite explain it as well as he can. He says he's willing to tell you, but he has to 'appropriate my vocal apparatus' to do it, 'cause he can't talk on his own except in my head. So… Things are gonna get a little weird."

Snuggles kind of twitched a little and then turned to me. "Greeting to one temporarily designated 'Silk,' greeting to one designated 'Director.' " Snuggles tone had changed, a little bit… It was kind of like the echoing voice was the main one and her voice was the echo. "This one's host has designated this one 'Mister Snuggles' on the logic that the physiological bonding process was 'like being hugged all over.' " Snuggles eyespots blinked. "This one favors this designation," it said with a nod. "One designated 'Silk' wanted to know details of tentacles… This one was experimented on, as was this one's progenitor. This one's species, designated 'Klyntar,' invaded but were defeated and this one's progenitor was captured. This one's progenitor had samples extracted from it, then died after spawning this one. This one spent its entire life being experimented on, samples taken, substances spliced, exposed to radiation and strange energy. This one's tentacle-appendage appears machine-like as it was fed appendages that appeared mechanical but were in truth biological. These appendages seemed to be based on this one's progenitor's bio-matter integrated with the genetic sequence of an unknown being, and this one recreates those appendages based on genetic and physiological information in them. Older, more evolved Klyntar could create appendages on their own, but this one cannot yet. This one's claws are derived from the genetic code present in a sample this one was given, likewise, with this one's tail and the powers this one possesses: Beyond most basic abilities of the Klyntar, all are derived from genetic code this one was fed or the energies this one was exposed to."

"Thank you for the explanation," I said, "now… can we have your host back?" I know I'd kind of asked for this, but Mister Snuggles was actually kind of creepy.

"Momentarily: This one has facts that it wishes to state." Snuggles eye spots narrowed, giving the impression of a glare, and her head slowly turned to the director. "One designated director? This one was subject to experimentation. This one was harmed by experimentation. This one's progenitor was killed by experimenters, and while relationships between progenitors and offspring in Klyntar tend toward what human tongues describe as murderous hostility, this one's host's memories indicate that this one should be saddened and outraged." Snuggles' head cocked to the side. "This one's host's progenitors were slain by the same people who experimented on this one, causing her great sadness and outrage. This one's host was subjected to similar treatments, things extracted from her and things placed in her. This treatment harmed her." The symbiote was silent for a few seconds. "We… Have… Been... Hurt." Mister Snuggles said slowly and carefully, as though thinking through each word to be perfectly clear. "This one cares for three things: This one's host, this one's well being, and the well being of this one's host. This one does not know what this program designated 'Wards' is, but if one designated 'Director,' one designated 'Armsmaster,' or others being affiliated with program designated 'Wards' bring harm to this one's host or to this one," Snuggle's body dropped from the ceiling and landed on Director Piggot's desk in a crouch. "We… Will… Eat… Your… Brain," it finished carefully. It wasn't making a threat, it was stating a fact. It was almost cheerful, even.

Then it hopped from the desk into a chair next to mine that had actually be prepared for Snuggles, landed sitting, and apparently switched back to the girl because the next thing out of her mouth was an outraged "Mister Snuggles! That's not nice! ...because it's not nice to make threats… it just isn't! And heroes aren't supposed to kill people for making them angry… No, not even then… Preferably not ever!" I got the impression that she was rolling her eyes, "I don't care if that feels weird to you, we're gonna be a hero and that's how heroes do things... Love you too. Oh, and no eating brains… Because it's disgusting!" Snuggles then sat up straight and looked at Director Piggot. "Miss director lady, I'm sorry about that and so is he. He's very little, he doesn't know better."

"It's quite alright," the director dismissed, "I've received more severe threats from much more intimidating capes for far pettier a reason. The director almost smiled, but then her face became as stern as it'd been all night: "Don't do it again," she said in a much more authoritative tone.

Snuggles shrank back. "Got it, no more threatening to eat brains," she said quietly just as the door opened.

"Okay," came my Dad's voice from behind us, "what did I just walk in on?"

"Nothing of any importance," the director stated, "please take a seat, Mister..."

"Hebert," Dad said, and took the seat to my left, opposite of Snuggles. Then he looked at me. "Taylor?"

"Yeah Dad," I said, "it's me." I pulled my mask off and stowed it in my backpack, then retrieved my glasses.

"If we're sharing real names," Snuggles added, a florping sound indicating that her mask was retreating back inside her, "my real name is Ashley." I turned to her and saw a little Asian girl with bright green eyes.

"Taylor," Dad said, "your hair is singed."

I winced. How was I supposed to explain this to him?

"Mister Hebert, as has been explained to me," the Director added, "earlier this evening, your daughter encountered Ashley here," the director sounded happy to not have a silly name to call the girl by, "while going on her first patrol as a hero and agreed to walk with the younger girl until they encountered Lung talking about murdering a group of children before engaging him and his pet."

"Oh. Oh my God," Dad said, his mouth hanging open in horror.

"And now," the director continued as though she hadn't been interrupted, "Lung is in a cell on the Rig and your daughter and her new friend are considering joining the Wards program."

Dad turned to me, incredulous. "...You beat Lung?"

"We beat Lung." I said, gesturing to Ashley, "she's a lot stronger than she looks."

"I can grow claws, a tail, tentacles, and stretch my arms a little bit," Ashley provided happily. "Also, I punched the meany in the groin as hard as I could."

"And Armsmaster showed up and tranqed him," I finished. "We're all fine, so..."

"...We can talk about that later then," Dad said, "you're sure you're… Why is your costume damaged?"

Shit, "We're here to talk about joining the Wards." My eye twitched as I said it. Why was it that the one thing I'd never wanted to do as a hero was rapidly becoming the only reasonable option I had? "So my costume is probably another thing we should talk about later," I said with a forced smile.

"Alright," Dad said, "you want to join the Wards?"

I didn't want to lie to my Dad. At least, not any more than I'd already had "...honestly, no, but Sn-Ashley here won't join unless I do and honestly, someone has to keep an eye on her."

"Excuse me," the director asked, "but what do you mean by 'keep an eye on her?' "

"Most of the Wards are high school age," I explained, "do you really think it's a good idea to throw a little girl who's never been to school head first into that kind of teen drama without a lifeguard?" The director smirked a little.

"She's never been to school?" Dad asked.

"Homeschooled. Orphan… Not even from this universe," I said after a second of deliberation. The director glared for a second. She didn't want that getting out, but it's not like I signed an NDA or anything so it's not like there was anything she could do about it.

"Si-Taylor, I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that?" Ashley questioned.

"I know, and maybe it's for the best if we don't tell everybody, but we're friends now so you're probably going to be seeing my Dad a lot so it'd make sense for him to know the truth."

"Oh, okay!" She happily agreed.

"Another universe?" Dad asked. "Seriously?"

"Yep. Heroes and powers and stuff are different where I'm from." Ashley added, still happy. "Apparently the military never experimented with super-soldiers here. Weird, right?"

"You're joking, right?"

"No, Mister Hebert, they aren't," the director said, pinching her nose again, "Armsmaster has determined that the girl isn't lying and is unlikely to be delusional. Honestly, we've suspected that something like this was possible for a while now, but… A handful of things from the past week, strange lights in the sky and a disproportionately large number of new capes appearing, do make a bit more sense now, but..."

"You know, I did see a guy who looked a bit like Morbius fighting a black guy who cussed a lot the other night, but I figured it was just some other vampire. Still could be," Ashley said matter of factly. Then she blinked and turned to the rest of us as we stared at her silently. "What? Do you not get vampires here, either?"

"...Well, that explains what happened to Skidmark..." The director admitted.

"Mister Snuggles just said that when the people were experimenting on him, he heard them talking about clones," Ashley cheerfully added. "There could be dozens or even hundreds of copies of people from my world. Ooh! I wonder if I'll get to meet and make friends with a spider-clone!?"

"Ashley?" I asked, "how much do you know about the superhumans of your world?"

"A lot about a little and a little about a lot," she said with a smile.

I smiled. "Director Piggot?" I asked, "I have to imagine that information about… Let's be conservative and say a dozen new wild cards here and elsewhere in the country might be worth a few perks, right?"

The director's eyes narrowed. "I suppose it might."

I smiled as the gears began turning in my mind and tugged at the collar of my costume. "This is black widow silk. I made it myself. This much, this finely crafted… I'd say that this is worth at least a couple hundred dollars, maybe a little more since I'm the only one who can make seamless costumes out of organic spider-silk. Throw in that this stuff is knife proof if you weave it tight enough and could probably stop a small caliber bullet from going too deep, that adds to the practical value, doesn't it?"

"I suppose it does."

Dad looked at me for a second, then his eyes widened with realization.

"And if I could get my hands on some Darwin's bark spiders, well, that silk is much stronger... I'm sure that there'd be something special for a Ward who provided her teammates, the Protectorate, and maybe even the PRT agents with protective outfits and costumes. Especially in a city like this."

"Yes, I suppose that a Ward who provided such a service to the PRT would be entitled to some extra benefits," the director admitted. "But that would be something to discuss later."

"Yes, it would," Dad interrupted. "Because unless those perks come in the form of custom negotiated contracts, there's really no guarantee that the children would see any of them. And it's a little late in the evening to be negotiating contracts. I'm thinking that if this is how things are going to go, it might be best for us to go home, sleep on it, think about our options, and get back to you in a few days."

Ashley yawned.

The director looked at my Father. "Mister Hebert… That name sounds a little familiar. I think I've heard you mentioned while dealing with a few city officials. What is it that you do for a living?"

"I'm the Head of Hiring and Union Spokesperson for the Dock Workers' Association," Dad began. "Negotiating contracts, getting jobs for people and making sure they're getting fair wages and benefits. It's what I do, and I'm the best there is at it."

Ashley's eyes widened for a second, then I caught her mutter "so close."

The director's eyes widened, just slightly. "Ahh, yes. Now I remember. Alright. I'd hoped that this matter could be taken care of quickly, but between the complexity of the situation and new information it seems, that's not possible. If I'm going to be honest, while the Wards are nominally under my direct supervision it's the deputy director who handles their day to day affairs, it's just that he'd already gone home for the evening when your daughter and her new friend were brought in."

"Perfectly understandable," Dad said in an agreeable tone.

"Now, if you're planning to come back you can call this number," the director said as she wrote something down on a pad of paper, "and give this passcode, and that'll get you patched through so you can schedule an appointment with Deputy Director Renick," she finished as she tore the sheet from the pad and handed it to my Dad.

He read it. "I'd like to report a crime: The Siberian molested my penguin?" He blinked. "You need to work on your secret passwords."

"They have to be things that aren't likely to be said by accident, Mister Hebert," the director said with a half smile. "Now the only thing remaining is what to do with our little friend here."

My stomach sank. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean, Miss Hebert," the woman began, "is that I can't provide her with the accommodations that an orphaned Ward would get unless she's in the program. So unless she's willing to give up her insistence that she not join without you, where she'll be staying for the next few days is an issue."

Ashley's arm immediately snaked around my own, her fingers clasping mine.

"Ashley?" I said, taking the hint, "Would you like to stay with me and my Dad for a few days?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," she answered slowly.

"Dad? Can she stay with us for a few days?"

"A few days shouldn't be too much trouble," Dad replied warmly.

The director looked like she wanted to protest, but thought better of it within seconds of the thought crossing her mind. "Alright then," she said, "if that's all decided then I'll make a note to inform Deputy Renick to expect your call."

"Very good," Dad said. "Oh," he said as we all got up, "as a fair warning, I may ask my friend Alan Barnes, a lawyer at the firm that Brandish works for, for his recommendation of a discrete, competent Lawyer for these kinds of things. Just in case." For a brief second, I could have sworn that the director's eyes bulged out of her head.

We stepped out of the office, and then it occurred to me. "Wait, I've got to find somewhere to change back into my civilian clothes."

"Um," Ashley said, "I just remembered… I don't have clothes other than..." She gestured to her costume/symbiote. "I mean, I used to have a hospital gown, but it kept getting in the way, so-" she was cut off by her entire body being engulfed by her symbiote's shiny, gooey mass, with the shape, color, and texture rapidly changing until it settled into a light blue t-shirt, a darker blue, knee-length skirt, solid black tights underneath, and regular looking sneakers. The color and texture of her clothes were slightly off, but if I didn't know better I'd say she was just an ordinary little girl and not a superhero to be with a living alien costume.

She blinked, then looked down at her own chest. "Mister Snuggles," she said, "why don't you tell me you can do these things you do!?"

I couldn't help it, I laughed. Dad looked at her, and then me, but I just said: "I'll explain later."

Snuggles the Symbiote

Ashley had been impressed with our old house with its creaky floors since it was the first time she'd ever set foot in a proper house. She'd suddenly been exhausted once we got home, and with a bit of prompting she'd admitted that she'd last slept two days ago in a refrigerator box. After that confession, I'd gotten her tucked away in my bed, with minimal fuss and Mister Snuggles transforming again, into a comfortable looking set of red and blue pajamas with a spider-web pattern.

Afterward, I'd gone down to the kitchen, made some toast and jam and heated up some water for a cup of tea. Dad came in just as I was taking my first sip and sat opposite of me at the table.

"I tracked down an old sleeping bag," he opened with, awkwardly. "It's on the couch when you're ready."

"Thank you," I replied just as awkwardly.

"How long?" He asked.

"...Since the locker," I answered.

He sighed. "I wish you'd told me about this… Hero stuff."

"I didn't want you to worry," I said.

"I was plenty worried tonight when I realized you weren't here."

I felt a bit of guilt build up in my stomach. "Sorry… It's not like we've been talking a lot lately, though."

"I know," he admitted. "That's something we should work on."

"It is."

"...When you were talking about looking out for her," Dad said with a gesture upstairs, "you had this look on your face." He smiled. "You were the spitting image of your mother from when you were eight and we found out that the summer camp we sent you to lost you in the woods for a day."

I could remember that. In hindsight, I was really lucky that wolf hadn't eaten me.

"There's a bit more to it than what I said," I began. "Like, throwing a girl with no experience with this kind of thing headfirst into teenage drama is a big deal, but… I didn't want to say this in front of the director, but I kind of get the impression that she's not used to talking to children like they're actual children." I took a bite of my toast. "And she kind of implied that my being too young to join the Wards without your permission was a problem and was a bit too quick to point out that the PRT could easily become Ashley's legal guardian and it just kind of rubbed me the wrong way."

"I can understand why it would," Dad agreed.

"I looked into the Wards a little, but they're basically the last thing I figured I'd do as part of my hero career." I laughed. "Like, top of my head example, I could see myself joining a group of villains with the intent of going undercover and taking them down from within before I joined the Wards."

"Alright then," Dad said neutrally.

"After Winslow, the last thing I need is more teenage drama, and more rules to follow being written and enforced by people who probably don't remember what it's like to be my age, who probably don't actually give a damn about me, and who'll probably side with the other guy if I have a problem with someone… But somebody's gotta look out for her, and I'm here and she already likes me, so..." I sipped my tea. "If I'm gonna do it, I might as well do it on my terms."

"Taylor," Dad began, "if there's one thing I've learned through years of negotiating with the City and activism on behalf of the Association, it's that there's nothing wrong with using the government or accepting its help if it's genuine, but that you should never trust it or it's representatives further than you can throw them, if that." I took that to mean he was agreeing with me. "I'll talk to Alan in the morning. He can keep a secret pretty well and while it's not exactly his specialty, he knows a bit child custody."

I blinked. "What are you getting at?"

"After everything you just said," Dd asked, "do you really trust that the PRT will make decisions that are in her best interest should they become her guardian?"

"Not a lick, but… Can we actually just keep her?"

"I think with Alan's help, or the help of a lawyer he recommends, that I can navigate any legal red tape in my way and at least find out." He looked thoughtful for a minute. "And what's that group? The Youth Guard? If necessary, we can try to get them on our side. I have to imagine that living in a proper house with a family she's already close to would be better for a little girl's mental wellbeing than living on what's basically a military base twenty-four seven."

"Yeah," I agreed. That sounded like a plan.

"Granted, taking in another mouth… Money's tight right now," Money had been tight for a while, actually, "but if we do this the legal way, well, foster homes get a stipend to help cover the cost of feeding and clothing the children, which should make it less of a squeeze."

"The Wards get a paycheck," I offered, "I'm not sure off the top of my head how much it is, but I can contribute part or all of mine for grocery money."

"Especially if I can negotiate you a good deal on those silk costumes," Dad added with a smile.

"Yeah… Are you sure that Alan can keep a secret? Like, even from his family?" I thought of my former friend Emma, who'd abandoned and bullied me out of nowhere starting the summer before high school. She might back off if she realized I had powers, but I was incredibly wary of risking it, and that wasn't even considering that her dad might know what she's doing. "I mean, this Secret Identity stuff is serious business, and the more people who know, the bigger the risk that it could get out."

"I've known Alan for a long time," Dad said, "if I tell him to keep something, especially something this big, a secret, he'll keep it secret from everyone." Dad sounded so sure, I couldn't help but trust his judgment, at least for now, but still... "But maybe we should finish this talk tomorrow. It's… Early," he finished. The wall clock said it was past two. "If you're that concerned about secrecy, we can go over how to talk to him or if it's even the best idea to have him help in the morning, but we'll probably need some kind of legal help if we want to keep her with us."

"I guess." I finished my tea and toast, bid Dad goodnight, then took the sleeping bag and went back up to my room. As I arranged the bag on the floor as quietly as I could, I looked at the girl peacefully sleeping in my bed and put my worry out of my mind for the night. If we could actually pull this off, then maybe the trouble would be worth it.