Chapter 1
"What do you mean, you don't need help? Look at you."
Staring back from between rain-slick strands of dark brown hair, Taylor looked at him with anger in her eyes. Danny was sitting in their car, still almost vibrating from the stress of returning home and not finding his daughter there. He had called the Barnes, the School, even tried calling the police, and all he got was either bland platitudes or outright indifference. Outside, his daughter was refusing to meet his eyes.
"Get in the car, Taylor! It's pouring out!" He had found her after driving up to Winslow, and taking the car into the back parking lot. There, he saw a thin figure trying to hide from the rain, tucked behind a dumpster. He had pulled up, and leaned over to open the passenger door, but Taylor was refusing to get in.
"I said I don't need any help!" Taylor shrieked, bending over and staring at him, her eyes rimmed in red.
The thin dock worker sighed, putting the car in park and leaning down, trying to catch his daughter's eye. "It's not going to let up for hours. Are you going to try and swim home, or just stand there and freeze all night." Around them, the cacophony of an Atlantic thunderstorm raged, flashes of lightning and distant peels of thunder framing their shitty fucking night.
Danny wandered what could have happened to leave her like this? Why had Alan and Emma been so strange on the phone? It had been months... or closer to years since he had called their house, but surely their daughters were still friends? The police had told him that they would circulate her description, but the cops in this town were as crooked as a snake, and Danny should knew, he took advantage of that as often as possible to steer his boys to whatever black market work they could find.
"Get in the god-damned car!" His angry shout startled him as much as it did Taylor, the pure outpouring of emotion something he had thought beyond himself these days. It certainly snapped his daughter out of her funk, her angry look replaced by a confused stare. Finally, she darted from the small overhang she was huddled under to jump into the open passenger seat, grimy water flinging off her shirt and hair to scatter over the interior of the car.
His little girl stared straight ahead, her whole body tense and rigid. "Just drive home. I'm fine, I just got turned around, I don't want to talk about it."
As Danny put the the into reverse, and began to maneuver out of the parking lot, he adjusted his glasses and tried to moderate his tone, "Taylor, where is your bookbag? Were you attacked? Do we need to go to the doctor?"
"You can't afford to take me to the doctor, much less buy a new bag, why are you even pretending to care?"
The time to explain co-pays and deductibles wasn't now, but she made a point about the bag. Danny had been so good with her when she was little, and easy, and simple. He had always thought that when their Little Owl became a young woman, Annette would step in. His wife was the mature one, the smart one, the capable one. Her blue-collar husband had been good for providing a solid foundation for a home, and ever since Taylor's mother died, it was like a great nor'easter had come along and left just that. A flat concrete slab, bare of anything else.
They pulled into the light evening traffic for the short ride home, street lights casting flickering long shadows into the car. Danny felt himself getting angrier and angrier, and since he couldn't put any more rage on himself, he felt his control slipping. "Taylor, what the fuck? You couldn't call? You couldn't get a message to me? You know, Emma said you had been... hanging out with boys, maybe even trying to get money out of them." His daughter's friend had been tactful, but what she had implied on the phone was terrifying. "You have to talk to me, I'm your dad, I'm here for you."
They idled at a red light, the sound of rain on the car providing white noise that had required him to raise his voice louder than he normally would. His daughter, on the other hand, simply shouted.
"You're here for me? What the hell is that worth? No you're not, you're a fucking walking corpse. It's been hell on Earth for me, for a year and a half. No friends, no help, no hope. You come and go, and drink, and pass out at seven fifteen every night, and I have to clean up and fix the broken shit in my life."
In front of Danny, the light turned green and he gunned the accelerator, wanting to get out of this car before either he or Taylor said something they couldn't talk back.
"Your mother died! She left me here, alone, after I stopped knowing how to be alone. Do you know what's it like to wake up without her next to you, to know that she'll never be there again? It hurts every day and night. I'm doing the best I know how to do, and the roof over your head and the clothes on your back are proof you've got it better than most."
At first, he thought she might finally be calming down, but as their car passed a bus, he glanced over to see Taylor had balled her fists, staring at him with more hate in her eyes than he had ever seen in his own.
"You're not alone! I'm here! She left me too, then you gave up! I lost both of you at the same time! Dad, you didn't buy me this shirt. Mom did, it's fucking two years old, and falling apart. Mom picked out our house, and I know you're behind on bills, so that's going to go to!"
There was an electric feeling in the air, like the entire car was a sock coming out of the dryer. The lanky man began to puff up to respond to his ungrateful daughters words when her eyes seemed to burn blue, and her voice resonated in his mind.
Danny felt his body go stiff, and his focus became stuck on his daughter's face, her expression dark and furious.
"It would have been better for me if you had both died."
It hit the man like a cargo ship tearing through a tug. Time seemed to slow down, the raindrops visible through the car window behind Taylor slowing in their descent. In Danny's mind, he could see the events play out. Taylor taken in by the Barnes, their two daughters giving his own the siblings she never had at home with him. That big house uptown, a car at sixteen, college, money from Alan and Zoe to start a life.
As his mind swirled, painting a portrait of his own inadequacies, a horrified look came over Taylor's face, her eyes filling with tears, "Dad! I didn't mean it, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, something really bad happened to me today, and ever since I felt lik-"
Danny's mind filled with images beyond his comprehension as he fainted, his daughter doing the same, their car missing a turn and driving straight through a wooden fence and down into an inlet.
The sound of surf against the hood of the car greeted Danny as he blinked his eyes. Their car had landed on the sandy shore of an inlet near their home, by the waterfront, now half buried in the sand and rolling tide. His faculties returning, he turned to see Taylor, strapped in like he was, coming to and blinking, staring around her.
"If you can, unhook your belt, and see if you can get out through the passenger window." It was broken, the same as on Danny's side. He kept his voice level, a lifetime of dockworker emergency drills coming to the forefront of his mind.
"I can, I think." Taylor wriggled up and out, wet sand pouring in from the smashed in windscreen filling the void in the car. Around them, the storm still raged, water tapping out a staccato rhythm on the roof of the ruined car. As his daughter pulled herself free, Danny did the same, unbuckling his safety belt, and pulling himself up and out through the open driver's side window.
They both stood on the sand, then Taylor came over, taking her father's hand, and together they walked up to a old mossy staircase that led up to the street level. There was a small overhang there, and they stood for a moment, clothes matted with wet sand, bodies soaked in rain and water from the bay.
"You know," Taylor began quietly, "A mobile phone would come in handy right about now."
Danny began to laugh, then his daughter joined in, the sound turning hysterical for a moment until he pulled her into a tight hug.
"We're both ok. That's what matters." Releasing her body, but still holding Taylor's hand, her father took a deep breath. "Let's just walk home. It's close. I'll call the police after, to report the accident."
The brunette girl started to speak up, but Danny interrupted her. "Anything else, anything, can wait until we have a shower and get some warm food into us."
Together, they began making their way up to the sidewalk, and the wet walk home.
An hour later, most of the evening already felt like a dream. Losing the car would be a problem, but the Docks were not short on old shitboxes, and replacing one with another wouldn't be a major obstacle. The police hadn't found the crash site yet, and the person on the phone that took his information already sounded bored. They had left, so DUI was off the table, and any responding officer would be up for a night of paperwork instead of a nice shiny arrest. Danny would get a call back when the Brockton PD were going to send someone over to inspect the site. The crash had been less than a three minute walk from their house.
Taylor had been a ghost, avoiding him. She had taken a shower, changed, and even come down to get some franks and beans he had cooked up, all while avoiding a face to face meeting with her father, quite an accomplishment in this tiny house.
Strangely, he knew where she was, like he could sense a point of light coming from her, visible even through the floor. Taylor wasn't making any noise at all, but he felt her upstairs, and a inside he felt like he had a burning need to do... something. It was all confusing.
The man had spent half a hour now just sitting at the kitchen table, alternating between gratitude that his precious girl was ok, and... no.
Not that thought. It was like a raging fire, just out of the corner of his eye. Every time his mind started to drift back to it, Danny would force his mind to other things.
It was just too painful, too raw. He had a wound, and the man didn't know how to even begin to fix it.
Fifteen passed to join the thirty already spent, sitting in the quiet, then he heard footsteps. Taylor coming downstairs, then the old wooden floor creaking as she walked up behind him. A pair of thin arms crossed his chest, and he leaned back, letting his daughter hug him.
"Ok, I'm ready to talk."
Danny nodded, and Taylor moved to sit down facing him on the other side of the table. Not where she usually sat. Her mom's chair.
"Dad, I'm in trouble," She began. "Emma... and her friends, they hate me. They spread rumors, push me around. It's awful." Danny felt his expression turn to confusion, and Taylor held up her hands, "Since that Summer I went to camp. I came back, and Emma had grown tits and hips and got new friends, and I've been their punching bag ever since."
The thin man kept silent, letting his daughter take a deep breath and continue.
"I won't get into too many details, but today, today was so bad. I usually leave school in a crowd, so they can't get me alone, but I got held back today to talk to a teacher. When that happens, I try to leave by the back entrance to sneak home."
Danny felt that familiar comfortable rage start to build, and that burning sensation in his body flared up. It didn't seem to do anything, but he felt a connection to the point of light in Taylor, and dimly he felt aware of other points of light nearby, out past the walls of their house.
Putting his confusion and anger aside, he focused on Taylor's story again.
"I had gotten into that back parking lot when Sophia, one of Emma's new friends, came out of nowhere and checked me into that dumpster. Madison grabbed my bag, and when I looked around, they had gathered maybe ten girls. Maybe more." His precious girl sniffled, then carried on. "You think you can handle it, people saying hurtful things, but they just... kept it up. And nobody was going to care, nobody was going to stop it. Every time I tried to stand up, Sophia kept pushing me down, kicking me in the back."
At her father's expression, Taylor smiled faintly, "No, dad, it's not even like that. She wasn't kicking me to hurt me. Just to let me know that she could hurt me. It was all just to humiliate me."
"I think... I think I fainted, like we did earlier. All I know is that I woke up, lying behind the dumpster in the parking lot. Somebody had carried me there, so teachers wouldn't see me. My bag was gone."
"I just sat there, going through their taunts, their insults, then it started to rain. I was going to walk home, but I was imagining myself trying to talk back to Emma, and it clicked." Taylor's expression turned venomous. "I knew just what to say to get her to apologize. I knew what to say to get her to fucking kill herself. Then I thought about Sophia, and Madison, and it was the same. I think I have a power, dad. The longer I'm away from them, the less it would hurt, but face to face. I think I can hurt them, the way they hurt me."
Taylor leaned over to take his hand. "The way I hurt you." Tears in her eyes, she squeezed his bigger hand in her own. "It's not true, that's not why I said it. Just, I wanted you to see me, and I knew I could hurt you in a way that would make you pay attention. That's all it is. Nothing more."
"You mean you wouldn't have preferred becoming Taylor Barnes?" Danny asked with a weak smile.
"Barf," Taylor muttered, miming a dry heave, "Plus, I'd end up with gram, not so bad. But hey, I'm happy to have you. I know you're hurting dad."
She stood up to come hug him, and he hugged her back. Being so close, and that feeling of warmth so comfortable within himself, he let that sensation pass from within to Taylor. It didn't leave him entirerly, but that point of light in her flared. In front of his eyes, she seemed to brighten. The bags under her eyes faded, and the sad expression in her eyes faded, just a little.
"How did you know it was a parahuman thing?" He asked her, pulling her to sit in his lap.
Taylor shrugged, "I just did. It was like I had a knife in my hand. I felt it, in my mind. I could use it for effect, if I wanted, or just to wound. In my head, I called it my Flayer. Not sure why. Just something I read once, about flaying someone's skin off. Dad, I really want to flay Emma. Is that wrong?"
Danny thought. "I'm not going to say no, Taylor. I'll say be careful. That's not a power that I can see the wards being fine with. They have us do a Quarterly Safety Briefing on triggers, mostly aimed at the younger guys, and powers that focus on anything mental are pretty scary. Promise me you won't use it without talking to me first ok?"
His daughter nodded, and her father pushed on.
"Huh. Ok, well, I might have a power too." He breathed in deep. "I don't know exactly what it does, but I've felt it since the accident." Since she had 'Flayed' him, really. "I know that I came out of the car a little easier than I should, and I shook off the cold much faster than you did."
"I feel much better now than I did a few minutes ago," Taylor said, color coming back to her face.
Danny pursed his lips, "I thought that might happen. I have a 'Seed', I guess, and I felt like I could share it with you. It should help you feel better, more healthy."
"Any side effects?" She asked.
In his lap, he felt her adjust, and he tried to shake off some very unfatherly thoughts.
"I don't think so," He lied. In truth, he felt it did more, but was unsure of what. "We've both had a long day. Let's go to bed, we'll both play hooky tomorrow, and try and figure this out together."
Chapter 2
"And her, the lady behind the counter?"
In front of them both, clean plates sat, proof of the quality of breakfast here at the Daybreak Café. There was no sign out front, and other than the logo on the single-sheet menu, there wasn't any sign of the name anywhere in the restaurant. Still, locals and dock workers knew it was a quiet and cheap place to fill up at the start of the day.
Taylor craned her neck to look over her shoulder, and let the figurative hand of her power rest on the knife in her mind.
"Um, to do what? It was easy with the waitress, I could tell we could get out by paying just by making her hate herself enough to go cry. What should I think about the counter woman?"
Her father thought for a moment, and Taylor took a second to enjoy the morning. The sun came through the big bay window at the front of the small diner, and filled the bustling space. Her dad had called Winslow, and then called into the Association office, telling them he'd be in tomorrow. Today was a day just for the two of them, her and her dad, and she felt warm and comfortable, here sitting across from her father, discussing the hypothetical use of her power.
"Could you talk her into just... shutting down, going comatose?" Danny Hebert took a sip of his water, his voice pitched low enough to keep their conversation private.
Taylor shook her head, "Not all the way. And it's like with the waitress lady. I don't have any context. I know, my power is telling me that if I walk up and say, 'No wonder your daughter doesn't talk to you, you fat bitch', she'd have an emotional breakdown. Or close enough. But, it's not going to be as effective coming from a stranger." The woman wasn't even that heavy.
"A cape, a faceless person behind a mask, that might make your power work better," He said, "People would just accept you're psychic or something."
Thinking about it, Taylor shrugged. "I guess we can count the Wards out. It's not exactly a heroic power, using words to hurt someone, maybe get them to do what you want."
"If you had triggered alone, I don't think I could accept you not going in just to keep you safe. But since it's both of us, I'm thinking we should just sit back and think for a while, until we can come up with a solution for both of us."
The thin man began counting out bills, and she saw him leave a generous tip behind on the table as they got up to leave. It hurt, seeing money slip away like that, but she'd never heard of a poor cape before. They'd think of something soon to make money. Her father was planning on taking them both out and down the shore to the edge of the docks, a place that the Association used to store equipment. Some place quiet, to talk and plan, away from their house and all the bad memories.
Taylor's mind swam as she walked through the heavy morning crowd at the Diner. She had to think hard not to let her attention drift, or her mind would begin preparing her to use her Flayer. The woman behind the counter cash register smiled at the man and daughter as they paid, and the teenager wondered why the woman would be so hurt, hearing a stranger bring up her child.
She had to be looking at people, to know what to say, and as she got into the old car her dad had borrowed from Kurt, the clatter of sensations faded. Looking out into the street as they pulled out, nothing came to mind. Quiet filled her mind, and she reflected on her experiments.
"Using it on someone in a fight would work, I think."
"If they could hear you, right?" Her dad asked.
"Yeah. They have to hear it for it to land, for the knife to stick in right so I can twist it."
The thin man rolled his eyes, "Vivid. And that's how you can make them do something?"
That sense had gotten a little stronger since yesterday. "Right. Nothing too complicated, and nothing nonsensical, but yeah, I can hurt somebody in a way that makes them think differently about themselves. The waitress would only cover for us not paying if I made fun of her for lying to the Empire." Hadn't that been a shock, when the words came to mind. "But I tried to think of a way to get her to give us her car keys, and I couldn't think of anything."
Not that they would have taken them, it had just been an experiment.
Taylor continued, still thinking, "I don't know if I can do it, without twisting the knife. It feels like, if I don't try, I'm just twisting it to make them suffer the most, cause the most pain and anguish."
Silence filled the car after that, for a long moment, and the same thought that Taylor had must have come to her father, too.
He broke the silence, quietly asking, "So, what did you twist when you spoke to me?"
The question had come to her earlier that morning, at the very start of their game of having her try her power out on people at the diner, and she had reflected on it since. She had been so angry, at her dad, at Emma, and all the other girls. At herself. Taylor had been so full of rage it felt like she would explode, standing behind that dumpster in the pouring rain, the bullying had left her too numb to let it out.
In the car, hearing her dad tell her that her tattered clothes and their depressing house should make her feel better, it had come pouring out. Eighteen months of anger and frustration, all released at once.
And he hadn't cared.
Or, Taylor thought sadly, he didn't know how to tell her that he cared. He must love her, if what she said could really hurt him.
All night, in the rain, she felt the hilt of the knife in her mind, the Flayer, but no blade. It had confused her, feeling only half of her power. Taylor had reached out with her power, and twisted the knife. 'Love me! Protect me! Value me! If you are this sad, not being able to love mom, then put all that love on ME!'
The thought still sung in her mind. She had felt the knife go in, and if she looked over at her father, the wound was still there, just scabbed over, hurting him just right so she got what she wanted.
"Nothing," She said, knowing he wouldn't believe it. "Just, didn't know my power would hurt you I guess."
He adjusted his glasses, and smiled, "Glad it was just a trial run. It felt like my heart was cut in two, when you said what you said." His hand moved over to rest on her leg, and she took it in hers, tough salt-stained skin contrasted with her pale flesh. Taylor squeezed her dad's hand, and he squeezed her leg in turn.
Her father let it drop, and they drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence.
Carefully, Taylor slid the action back, and checked the chamber. Then, she did it again, looking up to see her father give her a nod. She reached up to remove the heavy hard-plastic earmuffs and gave him a smile. "This is fun."
Danny approached his daughter and collected the pistol, checking the action himself then putting it away, giving his daughter a crooked grin, "You missed half the shots. The fish aren't having any fun, that's for sure."
They were out on a long empty pier, the sky clear as it typically was on the day after a big storm. He had set up a target, by the edge of the water, and now he and Taylor were putting his old handgun to use, her for the first time, him shaking the rust off after ten years or more of keeping it locked up. Their borrowed car was behind them, a big empty warehouse between it and a mostly empty part of the city.
"Capes don't carry guns though, right?"
He sighed, "Miss Militia sure does."
"That's her power though, dad," Taylor responded questioningly, "Armsmaster has a spear, and Velocity just smacks people I guess. I thought I read that Capes don't carry guns because they don't actually want to kill anyone."
Danny reloaded the clip, careful to show Taylor how to properly handle the firearm. He kept it pointed toward the sea, and handed it to her, careful to remain behind her as she got ready to put her hearing protection back on.
"That's those 'Unofficial Rules', Taylor, and they mostly apply to the good guys. Anybody who doesn't need a gun doesn't count, and trust me, if they need a gun, they have them somewhere. And you know who carries guns? Every villain cape I've ever seen. Now, to be fair, I was seeing them when they came shaking down the Association for money. Guns are good for intimidation, turning into a buzz saw wolf tends to send people running, but people know guns. They're something you can be vaguely," He wiggled his hand from side to side, "Afraid of. Not like giant ladies, or dragon men."
He continued, "This time, try harder to hold your arms still during shots. Keep your stance steady, like I said."
Taylor nodded, smiling happily, and put on her muffs, Danny doing the same. Even through the heavy sound filter, she heard the sharp snap of the gun, seeing the paper they had strung up bounce with each gunshot. Ten impacts, one for each round he had loaded. The slender man felt proud. It had been the first thing he had thought about, last night, after Taylor went to bed. His little girl pressed into service with the Nazis, the druggies, or killed by the Asians.
People forgot the kind of turnover for small time capes, even gang-affiliated ones. For every Kaiser, there were a dozen or more capes who showed up in the news for a few months, then got found, lasered in half or burned alive by some maniac.
Not Taylor. Not on his watch.
And the heroes? He had more respect for the fucking PD than he did for them, and that was faint praise. They rolled around the city in their million dollar patrol vans, passing burnt-out apartment buildings they were responsible for trashing, all in the name of a turf war with the city's gangs that had been raging for over twenty years.
"Dad," Taylor asked, getting his attention, "Are you ok?"
She had safetied the gun, and put it away, giving him a look. Danny shrugged and sighed, "Life is unfair, Little Owl. Just thinking about that."
They had brought down folding chairs from the car, and Danny walked over to their little picnic setup, feeling her presence behind him moving along with him.
His daughter took out a soda, and passed him a beer, "Any more luck on finding out what your power is?"
The thin man shook his head. They had both verified that he could lift a lot more than he could have before, and it took a bit more effort to break the skin of his arm than it used to, but not by much. Nothing that would keep him safe in a serious capefight. What he had noticed was that ability to sense other people, if they were close. Nobody had felt like Taylor though, her light shone much more brightly. Danny didn't know if it was because she was a parahuman, his daughter, or something else.
"No luck, Taylor. I'm not much of a sidekick, so far."
She beamed at him, and the dockworker felt his heart melt. Taylor scraped the metal folding chair along the shoreline concrete as she moved to sit right next to him, putting her arm on his shoulder. That sense of warmth inside of her continued to grow, and as it did, he felt a matching sensation in himself. As she got close, and hugged him, he adjusted in his seat, careful to keep her from noticing the cause of his discomfort.
Some time passed in quiet enjoyment of their free day, the sun bearing down through the clear skies, the ocean tide beating out a slow rhythm, and he began thinking about wrapping up and going home, when Taylor stirred.
"I'm not planning on going to school and shooting them, if you're worried about that."
"Uh, I hadn't been," Danny began carefully, "And that's mature of you. That doesn't mean you're going to just kneecap them, right?"
Instead of laughing, his daughter just sighed, "I guess not. Do I have to go back to school?"
The man had been thinking about that. He liked Kurt, and Lacey, and his other friends, and he'd miss them, but he'd still burn their life down to take Taylor on the run, if it were the best decision for the two of them. He had not been thinking about her life though, really, just his, and it never occurred to him that she was going right back into the situation that had caused her to develop her powers.
"Do you want to go stay home and homeschool? Or maybe try and switch schools, try Arcadia or Immaculata?"
Taylor's chair creaked as she sat up, and looked out over the sea. "No. Not really. I don't think you want to be my full-time teacher, and I'm guessing switching schools would be tough."
He ruefully nodded, knowing anything involving city bureaucracy was a nightmare.
"But really? I want payback. I want to get even," Her voice got quiet, "I think, maybe, I need to get even. To know that I can win for once, that I can beat them."
Danny knew that tone of voice. The slow anger. Rage that hid behind a polite smile. He wanted to admonish her to do better, and knew that if Annette was here, she'd never let Taylor follow that path. His wife never understood her husband's temper. But Danny knew it as a tool, a useful, powerful one that he had taken all the way up to a position of leadership in the Association. It didn't always make him happy, but it often made him satisfied.
"Ok," He said, to his daughter's surprise, "So you want to get even. What's the plan?"
"See, that too, boom, arrested. If you burn down their house, no matter if they're home or not, there is a Fire Marshall investigation. And somewhere near the top of the Barnes' Family enemy list is you, a girl their daughter has been bullying."
They talked the whole way home, and Taylor felt a smile across her face that almost hurt. She laughed out loud, and joined her father in getting out of the car. "Fine, no arson, dad. Boring!" The brunette teenager stuck her tongue out, and her dad rolled his eyes.
"Every plan you've come up with," He said fondly, opening the door to their house, "Involves you doing something very violent, to all of them, this very week. Can't you be a little more patient?"
Taylor followed him in, setting down their groceries in the kitchen. "That's literally what revenge is, right?"
Her father sat at the kitchen table, like he had the night before, but what a difference a day could make. She felt lighter, happier, even sat a little different in the chair.
"Look, you want satisfaction, right? Like, imagine a knight, smacking another one with a glove. 'I demand satisfaction, sir!' You want to feel like you got even. If Emma got run over by a bus, would you feel satisfied?"
She shook her head, while still smiling at the thought.
"And if you gave her a light beating in front of her friends, you'd be more satisfied then, right?"
Taylor sighed, "Girls don't do it like that, dad. It's like... a social thing. Nobody ever really beat me up, I almost wish they had."
"So pick one," Danny said, "Pick a girl, and then we'll give it a few days. See what your power can do. If you had to pick one first, who?"
The brunette let the thought circulate for a few moments, closing her eyes to think. After a moment, she nodded, looking at her father. "Has to be Sophia Hess. She's a bitch, and if Emma stopped, I think Sophia would push me around out of habit. Madison is a follower, so no sense targeting her first."
Her dad seemed confused, "I thought for sure you'd want to go after Emma."
"No," Taylor shook her head, "See, Emma needs Sophia. She can't trip me, or hit me, or do anything physical, or else she's the weird violent one. Sophia is a jock, she's half a boy anyway, she can get aggressive and nobody thinks it's weird. But take her muscle away, and Emma can't stop me from just walking away. And if she can't stop me, she won't want to start in on anything too serious. Too big a chance of me getting away, and making her look silly."
"Fine," He said, raising his hands in surrender, "I'll just assume you know best. So this black girl, the runner. Sophia. What do you want to do? I'm not going to let you go to jail over this, Taylor, so try to limit your imagination."
She nodded, taking this seriously, "I just need to get her alone. For a while. I need to practice with the Flayer, with twisting the knife. It'll be easier than with Emma to catch her by herself. Sophia runs track, and goes home on her own afterward."
"Before you do anything," Her dad said with a serious expression, "Make sure you can get her to forget, or keep her mouth shut. You can do that, right? Be patient, and careful?"
"Yeah, dad, I said I would."
Taylor got up, while her dad finished putting away their groceries, and went upstairs to shower. As she walked, the teenaged girl looked around first the staircase going upstairs, then at the walls in the hallway, covered in faded photos of their family, and mementos, all of those picked out by her mom. It was as if her and her dad had been put into stasis while her mom died, frozen in time.
Nothing new had been added to the house, and nothing else really taken away. It was time to make some changes, for both members of the Hebert family to start living again.
The old pipes in the bathroom rattled when she turned on the shower. A sad benefit to their just being two of them was that there was always plenty of hot water. Steam began to fill the small hallway bathroom as Taylor stripped down, peeking out to make sure her dad wasn't around, and then throwing her clothes on her bed, darting back and closing the door behind her.
That pistol was in a little lockbox, and her dad had shown her both where it, and its key, were stashed downstairs. Taylor wasn't crazy enough to bring it to school, but when the time came to settle the score with Sophia, she'd want her dad to have a way to protect himself.
Stepping into the shower, she closed the curtain behind her, careful to keep any water from spilling out. As she began to wash her hair, the brunette fantasized about using her power on Sophia. 'Stupid Bitch,' Taylor thought angrily, 'Brainless muscle-head jock cunt'. Maybe she could get Sophia to turn on Emma, or just turn herself into the police. If Taylor could make her go out and throw a rock at a cop, not even Alan Barnes could save Sophia, surely.
"Oh!" Taylor moaned, her body suddenly wracked with a bolt of pleasure. Without her glasses, her vision was a little fuzzy, but looking down, she couldn't see what had happened. Moving her arms back up from where they had gone down to wash her legs, she felt the backs of her hands brush against her chest. Her nipples were so hard it almost hurt, but that still didn't explain why she kept bumping herself.
Using one hand to wipe hot water out of her face, Taylor reached to cup her left breast.
It was bigger! Noticeably bigger than it had been the last time she noticed. Another embarrassing moan came out of her mouth as she squeezed her other tit, and just like the first, it had gotten significantly bigger. Feeling the rest of her body searching for changes instead of being distracted, she felt her eyes widen.
Her ass was plump! That little paunch in her belly was gone, her stomach smooth and tight under her hand. Legs, already long, had definition. Taylor leaned out of the shower to get a better look in the full light of the bathroom, and stuck her leg out, admiring her newly defined calf muscles.
Taylor's body felt electric, her hands exploring her limbs, fingers pinching newly taut flesh. She concentrated, trying to feel if anything had changed inside, and felt the hint of a warmth, strange, and through it a connection downstairs. Holding it in her mind, she felt affection, approval, and concern, all mixed together. It must be her father, and if she felt a hint of lust, it may be her imagination. But then, her father hadn't even dated anything since his wife, her mother, had died. Maybe he was just sexually frustrated in general.
"Oh, wow," Taylor murmured, stretching her back and rolling her nipples between her fingers. The pleasurable thought of hurting Sophia, then Emma and Madison, mixed with the physical sensation she was experiencing touching herself under the steamy hot water. Her mind filled with all kinds of fucked up thoughts, so many things to hope for, to strive for.
Her body shook, as the orgasm faded. The confusion in her at the changes battled with smug self-satisfaction at her newly sculpted body. If it was part of getting her power, or just some mysterious miracle, it didn't really matter.
A new Taylor was going to Winslow tomorrow. Bitches beware.
Chapter 3
"Bye dad!" Taylor groggily managed, waving goodbye after hugging her father. The street past the door was still dark, sunrise only barely visible in the bay, and she knew that the Association had to move quickly to fill their work orders, starting before most of the city woke up.
Closing the door behind her, the teenaged parahuman went about gathering her breakfast. Taylor felt hungrier than she typically did in the morning, in a good way, and shook her body in satisfaction at the knowledge she had curves to maintain now, the good kind. It was quiet in the morning in their house, and most days she got up right about now, roused by the sound of the door shutting and her father driving into work.
Today she needed a little extra time. After cleaning up the kitchen, the brunette girl went to her closet, and picked out the baggiest clothing she owned. Taylor hadn't gotten much taller, thank God, but her hips and bust were hard to hide unless you covered them completely, so she did. A big Brockton Bay Tugmen hoodie, handed down by Lacey, dad's friend, covered her like a tarp. Oversized stretch pants courtesy of the back of her parent's closet completed the look.
Staring into the bathroom mirror, a bushy-haired loser looked back, and for the first time, Taylor didn't see herself. It felt like a disguise, and so it was, schoolyard camouflage, for a hunting trip. She gathered her things into her bag, and made her way downstairs, turning off lights behind her, locking the door as she headed to the stop.
"Hey," She muttered, getting a baffled look but no response from the other kids from the block, and Taylor had to remind herself, after her happy weekend, that casual chatter was just not something that the 'That Weird Hebert Girl' did.
'Those fucking cunts,' Taylor fumed in her mind, 'They did this to me. Ruined me, for nothing. For fun, or for sport.'
Thankfully she had her power to pass the time, as the bus came by and picked them all up.
Threats and mockery filled her mind, as she narrowed her Flayer's focus to a single person, moving from head to head. Unless she focused on an end goal, it was just an endless stream of vicious, hateful insults, and from an objective standpoint taken as an exercise, Taylor found it pretty funny.
One boy up ahead would apparently suffer the most if she said that people didn't really like his cooking. There was a girl next to him that was apparently afraid that people would find out she liked girls and boys both. Taylor experimented, imagining using her power for effect.
'What would it take, to hurt you into letting me copy your homework?' The brunette girl thought, staring at the back of a random older boy in front of her. Her mind darkened at his response, and she frowned in annoyance. Apparently he was afraid people would associate the two of them. She could hurt him by threatening him with public friendship. But that was the only motivation she felt on the bus that pertained to her. People had secret shames they were terrified at being made public, or miserable anxieties that hearing another person discuss would drive them to their knees.
As the bus pulled into the line waiting it's turn to disgorge student into the waiting hellscape of Winslow, Taylor tamped her power down, the handle to the blade in her mind quiescent for now. People got up to wait in line, one by one going through the security checkpoint, bored looking guards eyeing them all, mostly there so that if somebody did smuggle in a blade, the school administration wouldn't be the only ones at fault. It was all theater of course, older people just didn't get it. Keeping out guns and knives only meant that people like her got to bring their powers in without anyone being able to fight back.
Taylor suffered through the indignity of it all, her shabby clothes and reputation as the popular girl's punching bag giving her some free room, something impossible for most students in the crowded line. Eventually, the process left her in the main hallway, and she began to make her way to her locker.
As she turned down a corridor tunnel, Taylor felt a pressure on her foot, and then the ceiling was whirling around as she fell, her bag scattering its contents in front of her.
"She's such a spaz," A voice, Emma's voice, taunting her. The teenaged parahuman looks up past a pearly white trainer to see Sophia standing over her, looking triumphant. Emma, Taylor's oldest friend, was hanging back, taunting her, mocking her to the little flock of sycophants that followed the Trio around.
The shoe pulled back as if to kick Taylor in the face, and she flinched in sudden fear, but Sophia only laughed and backed up, chuckling with the sickeningly sweet Madison. "Fucking watch where you're going Hebert," The black athlete muttered, "Or you'll end up behind a dumpster again."
Squeezing her eyes shut, the Master kept a close hold on her power, not even letting the passive aspect of it flare to life. Taylor didn't trust herself not to act, if she let it out, even a little.
The loud omnipresent roar of the high school crowd began to wane as the homeroom bell rang, and Taylor picked herself and her things up, letting a small smile onto her face, now that the bitches weren't around to see it.
One more day. She only had to make it one more day.
"Bye Taylor!"
The door shut behind him, and Danny Hebert got into the loaner car, looking around the interior as he started it up, making sure nothing would be left behind. He was giving it back to Kurt today, and picking up a new vehicle on his lunch break.
Traffic might be light this time of morning in the rest of the city, but the Dock woke up early. Shipping might be down, but road freight came in through the bypass and deposited all manner of cargo, all needing to be unloaded and prepped for local delivery, the lifeblood that kept the rotten heart of Brockton Bay beating.
Like most days, Danny had on a collared shirt, tie, and work pants, striking a balance between the white collared bandits that came to the Association needing help, and the workaday men downstairs who performed the actual labor.
As head of hiring, he had an office in the old brick Association building, a three story low-slung example of the Art Deco movement, now a relic among row after row of the commercial warehouses that filled the Dock area. The shore itself had the piers, long concrete fingers that extended out into the sea, topped by tall cranes and covered by shipping containers like leaves under a tree. From his window, he could see the sun had come up fully, illuminating the milling swarm of men, all of whom gave their nickel to him each month, and for what?
Years back, when Danny was still new to the job, working the stacks, some hothead cape had picked a fight with the heroes that had killed eight men, out in front of the whole city.
The Association's Insurance people had accepted a fat check from the Protectorate, then hadn't given a dime to the local chapter, claiming that state law was still 'unclear' on parahuman liability.
Fuck the Insurance people.
As for the Hero's themselves, they hadn't even bothered to apologize. Confusion on liability didn't extend that far. Ever since, the Association paid protection to keep conflict out of the dock, and to the middle-aged man, that seemed mad. These people all lived here, Hero and Villain both, how dare they jeopardize the only reason that Brockton Bay even had to exist? If the Docks vanished, so would three-quarters of the city in six months. Even big employers like Medhall could pick up and move. The Docks and the Association couldn't.
So fuck the heroes too.
Fuck the PD. The Mayor, the zoning people, the FTC, the FCC, the NTSB, and for Taylor's sake, fuck the Department of Education, too.
By the time lunch rolled around, Danny's anger had carried him through a fat stack of paperwork. Grinning ferally, he set his pen down and adjusted his glasses. The thin man stood, and walked outside his office to the open space holding the other senior members of the Dockworkers Association.
"Here's your key," He said, handing the borrowed car key back to Kurt, "I'm going to go get some lunch and pick up my new ride. Do you need anything?"
The heavyset black man leaned over, and a hollow metal sound came from behind his chair. "Naw, Lacey's leftovers for me today. Have a good one, Danny."
Downstairs in the hiring hall, only a few derelicts and injured men remained, ready to go out and cover contractually required headcount for men who left job sites early. He waved absently, making sure no one tried to come talk to him, and started the short walk down to the corner bar. He'd called in a favor, and a new car, new to Danny at least, would be waiting for him, the key with the barman.
The midday air was heavy with the smell of salt, the sound of birds and the distant clank of industry echoed off the walls of the line of businesses as the man walked down the street. He kept his hands in his pockets, and his eyes on a swivel. Any decent crook was still asleep at this time of day, but it paid to be careful in Brockton.
Danny thought about it, and then sighed, using his power for the first time this morning, his life so busy that he had forgotten about his new power until now. It remained a mystery to him, but the ability to sense other people was in effect. A passing car bore a pair of twinkling lights, to match the driver and passenger, and he felt people in the businesses he passed.
Ahead of him, a mass of lights swirled in the bar ahead of him, but none matched the quality of light coming from his daughter.
He stepped in, and nodded to both the daytime bouncer, and the barman. Danny made his way to an empty booth, and soon Louise the waitress came by with his usual, and a key and pink slip in an envelope.
The chowder here was cheap and filling, and Danny made a habit, even with his finances as grim as they were, to make the difference in his tip. He made it about halfway through his bowl before his power sensed an approaching bright light. For a moment, he thought it might be Taylor, but instead a fucking Empire goon squad rolled in, complete with a major current pain in his ass. A black and red robed Empire 88 cape sat across from him, her long blonde hair peeking out from her hood.
"I had expected you at your office, Mr. Hebert." Rune said, levitating a cracker off his plate with a touch, "But then my lookout saw you coming here."
Right now, the Docks paid protection to the Empire, and if the Asians pushed them out, he'd pay Lung, just the same.
Danny's expression darkened, "You got your packet last week, and you're scaring everybody here."
Nobody in the bar would be stupid enough to try to call the cops on a mobile phone, but the Empire men couldn't be sure that a passerby wouldn't drop a dime. Coming out during the day like this was risky for them, but it sure sent a message about control.
To his amusement, Danny spotted a little nine-millimeter handgun under Rune's robes as she shot his last cracker out over the bar, spooking Louise.
"Packet's going up. Twenty percent. I'm here for this month's difference, or to be seen taking this month's difference out of your hide."
God this girl sounded young, not much older than Taylor. Danny felt himself getting angry, at her, at her fucking bosses, at himself, and the world in general. "Do I look like an ATM? And good luck, the only reason you're getting paid is because I'm holding the Association together. You think a corporation based out of state is going to pay you protection?" His rage spread to his face, snarling at the girl, "No increase this month, or the next, and if you still want it, send somebody who voted for at least two different presidents to come down and talk to me in my office, and we'll go over the books."
Fuck, now the cape looked pissed. Her goons were getting antsy and impatient, Danny could tell, they must have a car waiting outside. Instead of leaving though, Rune looked cornered, her expression a mix of fear and outrage. The balding man saw the moment that she chose violence over discretion, her hands moving to lift the table under him.
Danny flared his power, not fully planting a seed in the parahuman girl across from him, but brushing the energy against her. Into it, he poured his need to make her listen to good sense, to be reasonable, to just let him help her make the smart decision instead of picking a fight that might turn into something she couldn't take back.
The touch of his power against the parahuman girl caused her to blink. Even through her mask, he could see her indecision.
"Just walk away. Come to my office later this week, and we'll figure it out."
It had been meant as an insult, the junior member of the Empire coming out to the cash-strapped docks to collect the small packet, and Danny had taken it as one. Now he was grateful, he'd be fucking terrified trying this shit on Hookwolf.
Rune nodded, her men behind her thankfully missing the sudden indecisiveness written on her face. "What about the difference? Krieg will expect the full amount today."
"Can you make up the difference yourself?"
Rune nodded, hesitating at first, then agreeing with him with a nod.
"Then just don't tell anyone. Make it up yourself, then you come see me. We'll figure it out."
The red and black robed figure got up to leave, and as the door closed behind her, Danny felt a great wave of tension leave his body. Louise began to look as if she was going to come over and talk, but he waved her off. Nobody was angry with Danny, exactly, but it would probably be for the best if he avoided the bar for a week or two.
He stepped back out into the street, thinking about his power. Like Taylor's… Flayer thing, had he Mastered Rune? It certainly felt like it, but it wasn't direct control. He hadn't told her what to do, but he had wanted her to change, to be the kind of person he needed her to be. And he hadn't poured himself into it, like he had before.
Like he had with Taylor.
Was his daughter acting any differently? Danny didn't think so. But what had he been thinking about, that first time he pushed his energy into her. Holding over after her accident. That she'd be safe? That she'd be the kind of girl that her mother had been?
No, it had come after she told him about the girls, the bullying, the failure of anyone at Winslow to stand up for his little girl.
The father had used his power to plant a seed in his daughter, hoping she'd be more like him. Hard. The kind of person that got even, that did what needed doing.
As Danny parked his new old car downstairs, and went up to work for the rest of the afternoon, he wondered what had changed for Taylor today. She looked so... mature, lately, like her mother had at that age. Long toned legs, and a slim belly.
His phone rang right at closing time, and he answered it, happy to hear Taylor's voice.
The sun had begun to dip below Captain's Hill before Taylor heard the exodus of the track team leaving the gym exit, a few hours after school had let out. The brunette had hidden up in a storage room, one that she thought the Trio still didn't know about, expecting that Emma and Madison would be long gone.
Posting up by an alleyway outside of the school, she heard Sophia's angry shouting, decrying some girl beating her time in a heat. Emma had toadies, not Sophia, and Taylor hadn't really noticed any of the other jocks tagging along when the Trio were bullying her. The brunette slowly stepped out into view of the street, her profile visible to Sophia, then ducked back into the narrow passage.
Was Sophia that stupid? To fall for obvious bait?
The sound of a single pair of slapping running shoes seemed to indicate that she was. Taylor darted too, down the alleyway, hearing Sophia catching up quickly. This was skirting what her dad had asked, but she wouldn't do much until he got here. Just... prepped Sophia, for what she had in mind. Her dad might object to some of it, but not all. He seemed so pent up, last night. It would be good for him to get a little relief.
One last turn through a gray wooden fence, and Taylor was in a little courtyard. She turned in time to see Sophia step through the gate, grinning at the other girl, setting her bag on the pavement. It wasn't a large space, and the only door was padlocked shut, unable to be opened from the outside.
Until recently, this had been Taylor's worst nightmare. Caught alone, off school grounds, with no witnesses.
"You fucked up, you stupid bitch," Sophia started, grinning and balling her fists, then she stepped in to invade Taylor's space. "If you can keep me from getting bored, I'll spare you a call to Emma so she can hear you cry."
Taylor's mind roared as she opened her power's floodgates. For now, she'd settle for leaving Sophia crying on the ground.
"You fucking cunt," Taylor began, smiling herself at Sophia's momentarily shocked expression, "You think you're tough? You think you're mean?"
"You'd fight Kaiser or Lung, if you really thought you could handle it. You're a scavenger, scared to fight anyone who can fight back!"
Sophia had grabbed Taylor's baggy shirt, pulling a punch back, but the statement hit her like a baseball bat to the head. At first, Sophia just blinked, then she released Taylor and began to shake. The brunette wondered at the strange thing for Sophia to get so worked up about. Something to talk over with her dad.
"No! No I'm fucking not!
"Your mom wishes he'd liked you better, so he'd leave her alone."
At that, Sophia dropped to the ground, her eyes shut tight. Taylor hadn't even needed to raise her voice, but the effect was like the black girl had been shot. Sophia lay moaning, arms and legs curled up. Now, the bespectacled girl needed to make sure that her target stayed down, did as she was told, and never told a soul about what her 'victim' was doing to her.
"Nobody cares about what happened to you," Taylor said, wondering about the words she was saying. "Emma would laugh, Madison would be jealous, and your mommy wouldn't bother to even care. You wanted it, and now that's all you're good for."
Giving it a moment to sink in, Taylor bent over, and spoke into the quivering girl's ear. "Are you going to listen to me, Sophia? Do what you're told?
The black girl grit her teeth, barely able to nod, as if she was in great pain. "Yes, ma'am."
"Does anyone know where you are, or expecting you tonight? It sounds like your mom isn't, I guess," Taylor quipped, laughing a little at her own joke. She nudged her fallen tormenter with her toe, and Sophia didn't respond, just lay there and took it, rolling from side to side.
"Good. Do you have a phone? Give it to me."
Sophia did slowly, pulling it out of her backpack, and Taylor called her father, eager to get on with their night.