April 13th
Despite my long legs, it was hard to keep up with Miss Militia. She strode quickly down the hall, forcing me nearly into a jog to keep up.
"The current situation about the fair has been fully taken over by PRT investigators," Miss Militia stated as we moved, her pistol clicking at her hip from her speed.
"As you've already given your statement and been cleared by medical, it was decided that you should be sent home rather than keep you here, as we have no easy way to know who is a mole for Coil."
…. Wait, what? They were sending me home? Just because they didn't want to keep me here?
Something must have been showing on my face because Miss Militia glanced at me and then continued.
"I don't like it either, but it isn't my decision. If it was up to me, I would keep you in the building where we could protect you from Coil, but given the current state of the city, that particular issue has been set aside for now. Putting out a raging fire takes precedence over pest control."
"Add this to the fact that Armsmaster is out of town and off the grid, and that several of our heroes are currently down or are in recovery when we need them the most, we simply can't afford to lock you in a room and hope for the best, not to mention the legal issues of keeping you here without your guardians permission; keep in mind that we will check up on you as soon as the city stops being on fire."
So… they were just, getting rid of me? Setting me aside, out of sight, out of mind? That my situations and my life wasn't important?
Yes, I understood what was happening in the city because of the events at the fair; the Empire were their beating their chests over it, and the ABB was mobilizing in response while the Merchants were making a fuss over everything that was happening in what they viewed as their 'territory.'
But to be told to leave? To be set aside because something bigger was happening? That didn't make any sense.
When we got to the elevator it opened instantly at the hero's touch, and she all but pushed me inside of it.
"It would best if you took a bus and headed straight home," Miss Militia stated. "Most of the troopers have already headed out and the Empire is consolidating on their borders, but nothing is predicted to happen while everyone sizes each other up, so you should be fine."
"And if I'm not?"
Miss Militia stared at me for a second, one hand tapping away at her gun. "Personally? I think you'll be fine; we might not be making moves against Coil right now, but with how fast everything is moving outside this building, I doubt that he'll be able to get to you unseen."
"And if he does anyway? I was already nearly killed once today, and Tattletale told me that her boss really has it out for me now, and the only reason that I haven't been grabbed yet was blind luck! Plus my dad is…"
Fine, I told myself, he was fine. In the hospital for now, but he would recover.
Miss Militia reached out with a hand and grasped my shoulder gently. "The PRT keeps lines open in the underground for these types of reasons; some of the intel has been released about Coil and both his involvement at the fair, as well as some of the other situations over the last day, as well as some events prior. The hope is that cooler heads will prevail and see the long-term effects of a gang war in this city, and work on de-escalating before it happens. Even the Quill of the Temple here and his new assistant has been spotted on the streets, apparently hitting several of Coil's hidden bases with Faultline's crew backing them up."
That didn't really comfort me at all. One would think that given everything that had happened, the PRT would be keeping me in an interrogation room until this all blew over, not being set loose into the wild!
"I was also told to tell you that your clothes were wired with tracking bugs, if you get more than twenty feet from your phone, they'll start sending a signal."
… I was being used as bait. They needed all hands on deck to stop or fight in the upcoming gang war, and they were actually hoping that Coil did do something just so that they could get to him first.
It was smart: from the sounds of things, he was the hidden mastermind that no one saw coming, and the PRT was hoping that everything that was happening would flush him out as he went after the one girl that seemingly fucked his plans over. I might not actually be doing anything, but if what Lisa said was true (and it was really looking like it was), then Coil would have no problem hunkering down and waiting this all out.
But if I was still around to mess with his power…
Oh, what the fuck was the PRT thinking?
It would be child's play for him to just send someone to my house and get me, and it wasn't like I could just hole up somewhere: I would get spotted or be reported leaving the building, and from there Coil could just have me followed.
"As I've said, I don't like it," Miss Militia continued, taking no heed of my troubling thoughts. "And I've brought it up to my superiors how this is foolishness at worst, recklessness at best. But I'm not the one that is in charge, and they've made it clear that this is the way it needs to be. I'm sorry, stay safe."
When the doors closed on her retreating figure, I was left alone in the elevator, heading down to the ground floor, with only my very confused and unsettling thoughts to keep me company.
Which made it a perfect time for a voice to laugh and echo around me.
"Hey Kiddo, having a bad time? How about some fun then?"
The elevator shook, the lights went out, and I was thrown sideways of all things. I felt the G's as it suddenly shot upwards, then slammed to a stop, throwing me to the floor.
I managed not to hit my head, but my shoulder ached from where I hit it. The lights were out as well, so I couldn't even see where I was other than feeling my way around.
When the doors opened, the only thing I could think was 'This isn't the ground floor.'
March 30th
Fun fact: asking for updates about an investigation that has a major influence on your life via text, to quite possibly the world's best Tinker? Not a good idea.
It wasn't that I was bugging Dragon, it was just that… I had gotten a taste of what a normal life would feel like. And I did not want it taken away from me.
In the end however, Dragon ended up sending me what amounted to three or four pages worth of texts, explaining things.
Because of my Rogue status, I couldn't exactly just walk into the PRT and have them protect me. And with Coil having fingers inside the PRT, that would have shown the PRT's hand about knowing about him.
Short of me leaving the city for a while or bunking up with the Wards or someone from the Protectorate, there was no guarantee that Coil wouldn't be able to get to me. There was also Lisa, who would likely get killed as soon as Coil found out what she'd done. While she was very likely a villain, that didn't mean the PRT was going to just let her be killed.
The PRT wanted to catch Coil, and Dragon had likened my situation to one of an undercover operative (though those guys usually had a choice in the matter).
Which meant that nothing had changed, and I was being used as bait.
Sure, Dragon had told me that I could run with my dad, or head into the PRT building anyway if I wanted to take my chances, but with the limited leads they had on Coil there was no guarantee that he would leave the city if he was discovered (they thought he might decide to lay low for a while and wait things out).
And even if I left the city (with Dad, of course), that still left Lisa. Plus, Coil might be the grudge-carrying type, and still might hire someone to track me down to kill me out of spite.
Which all sucked because I might have found some people that I could get along with, and there maybemightbeaguythatwasinterestedinme?
I took the teasing about Dennis from Amy with a grain of salt. At first. Because sure, I had lost some of my belly fat because of my running, and had gotten a little toned from it, but I was still the thin, tall, gawky teen that I was before.
But… he always said hi to me when I came to class, tried to include me in the conversations at the lunch table (even though I was just happy to be there). He engaged with me more, enough so that I was really confused about the whole thing.
On the one hand… I, I didn't really know actually. I had basically written off having a boyfriend at Winslow, and what had happened there really reinforced that feeling.
Now? Now I had no idea. Dennis seemed nice, if a bit heavy on the jokes with Tory (some good, some bad). It was something that I needed to think about. Eventually. Because I had no fucking idea what to do about it.
I almost wished that I was on better terms with everyone, because I had no idea how to ask any of them if Dennis was really interested.
Nor did I know why.
Dean was close to him, and while I felt like he would be honest and give good advice, this wasn't exactly something I could go up and ask him about… was it?
Tory was a better bet, she was close to Dennis as well, if a bit distant to me at times. She reminded me of a cat actually, sitting with the group, but largely watching until something happened to catch her interest, then she would involve herself with the group; only to back off as it suited her.
Vicky was… nice, if a bit blusterous and stubborn. I would likely get teased for a bit, before she decided to drag me along for a shopping trip and advice (something she had already brought up once after making a comment on my clothes; Several of the others had shook their heads rapidly after that).
And as for Amy, the one that told me about it… I don't actually know that much about Amy. She was like me, she kept to herself. Most of the time she either had her head in a book or just watched everything from the sidelines, staying close to her sister.
Her actions and mannerisms were… familiar, disturbingly so. It wasn't exactly the same, but the way the group would talk around her like she wasn't even there… it reminded me of me, of how I acted back at Winslow.
She was closed off, like a passenger to the world. The only person that really could get her really out of her shell was her sister, and she was sometimes so full of herself that she never really seemed to notice what was happening (that wasn't quite a dig at Vicky, the girl was honest and sincere but at times just acted so… immature).
It didn't help that she seemed… content, to let Vicky drag her around all the time either, and the few times that the group pulled her along into something, she would always fall back into the background.
Maybe that was why I had approached her, almost confronting her about it. I had been there after all, where no one really noticed you, where you were just part of the background.
Amy didn't have it that bad, but… no one had ever stepped up for me and I didn't want to be that type of person. The few glimpses that I'd seen of Amy was that she was a good person, quiet yet well-spoken, intelligent but not a know-it-all, while at the same time being someone that I could talk to and get along with.
And I'll admit, all my years with Emma as more or less my sole friend had affected me; I viewed Amy as an easier person to get along with than everyone else, someone that I could talk to without having to worry about other things.
Dean was a guy, Vicky was… Vicky (and didn't it make me feel weird to say that), Dennis was…. well, he was someone that I wanted to talk about, and Tory could be intimidating with how fast she could think things through and keep track of stuff.
Amy was just… more normal.
It hadn't quite gone the way I wanted it to, of course: finding out that you had a superpowered friend, her sister was part of a local public team, and you never connected the dots was… embarrassing.
But we got over it, even if I ended up scaring her a bit.
She had texted me a bit afterward, something I wasn't accustomed to. I somewhat got used to it though, as it seemed that Amy was much better at talking and expressing herself through a message than face to face.
It wasn't what Emma and I had shared but… it was a start.
It really was a strange thing, having… friends.
After two years of basically avoiding anyone and everyone when I wasn't forced to, it was… nice, to hang out with people.
It was something I didn't quite realize that I missed so much, I was so used to keeping my distance from everything that I had no idea how much I longed to be a part of something.
Granted, it wasn't like I had suddenly become a social butterfly, but I often found myself interjecting myself into the current conversation of the table, asking for clarification about something that was being talked about. Sometimes I even kept up with the conversation or ended up pushing it elsewhere with my words; I even managed to get Amy into a few conversations about books or school subjects.
Turns out that, once you get her to loosen up, Amy Dalton is quite the conversationalist. The sheer range of books she'd read over the years outpaced mine, though like me had missed out on the last few years of new books because of life and growing up.
And she also was the closest thing that I could call a proper 'friend.' Because she apparently felt comfortable enough with me to subtly tease me about Dennis by dropping hints about the upcoming fair in the Docks, about how it would be great to go as a group so we could check it out, buy knickknacks, eat junk food and candy, explore the stalls, see what old books the city library was selling.
Apparently, they sometimes had a room or two set aside for movie screenings.
It was kinda hard to miss the fact that she looked right at me when she said that last bit, nor how fast Dennis jumped on board, not with it with how fast he asked me if I wanted to check it out.
Which was something that I did want to do.
Years ago, when the fair first started, my mom ended up taking me alone, as dad had been swamped being one of the few DWA admins left that could keep things going. We only had a few visits before she died and me and dad ended up drifting apart.
Part of me wanted to see if I could get Dad to come, just me and him, maybe do a bit of family bonding.
Another part knew that this was the only time of year that the DWA had more than a hundred people working at once, and someone needed to make sure that all the paperwork is filed.
… I could manage with friends, right?
It could be something nice, to hang out with people outside of school; me and Amy could check out the books, I could ask Vicky about getting new clothes for me (as she kept pointing out that I was bland), chat with Tory and Dean, and keep an eye on Dennis to see if he was hitting on me or something.
Amy might have implied that Dennis was… that he… but it didn't mean that he was.
But that was ok, because even if that didn't pan out and it was just a misunderstanding, at least I would get a chance to get to know my friends better.
I could deal with that, because that was how life went. Normal life, at least. You chatted with people, you discovered things about them and yourself both good and bad, and you moved on with the next day.
You know, normal human things, the non-powers things. The very things that I had all but given up upon back at Winslow, but here it was within reach.
But things… things weren't going to stay peachy forever, and I should have seen it coming.
A week. I had a week of something like happiness.
Before that, I was keeping my head down. I should have known better and kept it down, rather than relax.
I didn't notice at first, probably because I hadn't recognized him. Mitch was one of those guys that circled around the Trio (hoping to score a date, no doubt), one of the ones that was managing to keep out of the gangs (as far as I could tell), and was doing well enough in school to end up making it to Arcadia.
It really should have happened sooner. I mean, pretty much the whole school knew of or had heard about me and the Trio.
I just wasn't watching where I was going, and I bumped into him. We said our sorries and kept going. I noticed him doing a double-take out of the corner of my eye, but like a fool thought nothing of it.
Two classes later, I heard the whispers.
It was the type of thing you learned to pick out, after experiencing years of bullying like I had. It was a survival thing, to know that was being planned.
A few of the students in the hall were looking at me, and they turned away when I caught them.
"… stuck glue o…"
"…appened for we…"
"…t Winslow, ma…"
"…ink it was he…"
"…ybe, but the…"
It was bits and pieces, little hinds and snippets of conversations. But I was able to figure things out.
"…afe here?"
"…RT didn't say anything…"
I had heard more things over the last few days, things that people had said when they thought I couldn't hear them.
Fun fact: when you start looking over your shoulder all the time, you learn to filter things better. I wasn't perfect at it, but being able to hear someone talking about helped me in avoiding whatever bad news was coming my way from the Trio.
"…ven't heard anything new about it…"
"…he new kid in class said he didn't know anything…"
"…ink she knows anything?"
There had been whispers of what happened at the school while I had been at Arcadia, but they were just that, whispers; most of it had just been people talking about something they heard on PHO, or rehashing something they had heard with friends.
This was different, this was directed, controlled.
Not everyone from Winslow ended up in Arcadia, but when you took into account the shifting of the other high schools for space, there was a fair bit of changeover.
No one had any proof of anything, but I wasn't that much of an idiot. It wasn't like the Trio had hidden the bullying from anyone but the teachers, someone from Winslow was bound to recognize me at some point.
Whether or not they were able to put two and two together was another thing.
Legally speaking, I was more or less in the clear, but public opinion was a different matter. But, if I didn't do anything, then no one would be able to confirm anything, it would all be rumors and conjecture. I could deal with those, and time would erase suspicion from me.
It still bugged me though, because I really should have seen this coming. I thought that once I left Winslow, that it would leave me, but really, spotting the kid that got bullied for two years, just a few months after the school got closed down because an ice tree had decided to take root there?
Surely the PRT saw this coming, right?
I was known, as what was being done to me at the time. Add that to the rumors and what people knew about what happened at Winslow from those that were there and had seen it, people could easily connect the dots.
Yeah, again, there was no proof of anything, but that wouldn't stop people from talking about it, NDAs or not.
Strangely, that didn't bother me as much as it should have, it was the attention that was getting to me.
Back in Winslow, people never really addressed me outside of the classroom, even then it was only the other social outcasts that went further than the basic 'what page was it?' questions, so I was avoided most of the time.
Here, people were paying attention to me.
A glance here, a look there; I was invisible in Winslow, people tended to look past me or only gazed in my direction if I was subject to a prank, or if I happened to walk past them. But no one ever keep looking afterwards.
But here I could feel their looks, brought on by the voices whispering about Winslow.
It was unsettling and surreal: far too different than what I was used to, while simultaneously making me feel like I was back at Winslow.
I didn't like it. I was done with Winslow and everything that the school had put me through. I just wanted to live a normal life, no betrayals, no enemies in wait, no secret shadow following, no evil madman taking offense to my existence. I just wanted to go to school, maybe make a few friends, leave, and then get on with my adult life.
And yes, I knew that it was very unlikely that everything was going to go perfectly for me from here on out, but would it hurt the universe to stop treating me like I was a punching bag?
I didn't want to have to start looking over my shoulder again, to find places where I could rest and eat in peace, to lose the few friends that I had, to have them turn against me.
The walls started to close in. The press of bodies became too much. Memories, of the type I want so hard to forget, dragged themselves back up again.
Emma, Sophia, the teachers' apathy, the grind and weariness of always being on alert, how everyone looked the other way. The pushing, the stolen items, mom's flute.
The Locker.
I didn't quite bolt. Trying to run from the Trio had never worked out and trying here was bound to attract more attention from the few that either didn't know, or didn't care.
I was still moving fast enough that I nearly hit some girl with the bathroom door, however.
Mumbling an apology, and ignoring the huff in response, I stepped inside the bathroom.
The doors opened inward on the stalls, a good thing to know. The room was also far cleaner than anything at Winslow; the glass was all still in one piece, the walls lacked graffiti, and none of the sinks seemed broken.
All the doors were open, so I settled myself in front of one of the sinks, turned on the faucet and splashed water on my face.
Mr. Rieper had talked to me about panic attacks, I had had one while I was in therapy with him. He taught me a few things on how to get over them. Deep breathing, close my eyes, try to relax, those kinds of things. So I did them while looked at my reflection in the mirror.
It was harder than one would think, simply trying to relax made me tense up. Deep breathing was easy enough, the oth-
"Hey Kiddo, having problems?"
My breath escaped me in a rush, and I spun around.
Beside me, seating on a sink with its back to the glass, was my Double.
Its legs were kicking the air, bouncing back and forth as it gazed at me. Hunched over as it was, it had turned its head to gaze at me with those eyes.
Cocking its head to one side, my Double continued in that eerie voice.
"How've you been Kiddo? Been enjoying school? I saw you made a few friends."
I turned away from it and its wide grin and black eyes and shut my own. Grasping the sink in front of me, I repeated the words I needed to hear.
It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It. Wasn't. Real. It was just a figment of my imagination, no one else could see it. It didn't affect anything in the real world, so it couldn't even hurt me, or do anything for that matter.
"Ahh, that hurts Kiddo. You mad at me about something? Did you forget?"
My eyes opened.
Black ones stared back at me from the mirror and my face was twisted into a grin.
Then I spoke.
"You owe me."
I threw myself back from the mirror with a gasp, one of my hands clipping the nearby sink as I backpedaled. Then I slipped.
Maybe it was water on the floor, maybe it was my balance. Whatever the reason, I felt my legs slide out from underneath me, and the whole room twisted.
My reflection vanished, as the wall in front of me rapidly shifted to become a floor. 'This is going to hurt,' shot through my mind. I didn't want it to hurt, cracking my head on a tiled bathroom was a great way to get attention, which wasn't what I wanted.
I didn't want to stand out, I didn't want to be noticed. I just wanted to be-
There was a rush within me, I tasted White and Blue, smelt Electricity, heard Blood and Blade, and saw a Whispered Promise with my eyes.
The world spun, shifted, altered. Colors sharpened and simultaneously dulled and blended together with a faint haze. A swirl of blue-white light encircled around me, and everything slowed down.
I hit the floor with the same amount of force that someone might drop the last foot into their couch. The world around me snapped back into focus and a second later the swirl happened again, whooshing around me.
Then I curled into a ball and tried not to scream.
You know that feeling when your foot falls asleep? That pins and needles feeling that runs across the limb and how every time you move it, the whole area feels a shooting Pain?
I had that across my entire body.
Breathing hurt, blinking hurt. Every time I did something caused it to flare up again, from shuddering (from the pain), from hunching over (from the pain), even from trying to shut my eyes to block out the Pain.
It felt like hours, but it must have just a few minutes that I laid there, because I heard the bell ring for class.
"You still alive down there Kiddo?"
Ah good, my Double was still around.
The pain began to recede, the throbbing fading with what felt like every breath. Soon, I was able to move again, to try and get myself off the floor.
My Double was watching the whole thing, seated on the sink I'd fallen away from.
I wobbled and stood, arms curled around my gut and hunched over as the echoes of pain twitched over me.
"What was that," I breathed. "What the fuck was that?"
Was that my power? I looked around, no ice tree, just a bathroom, yet…
There was something simmering under the surface of my skin, rumbling and twisting. In my gut, no… behind my heart? Behind me? … something else was there…. Hovering still yet rolling, waiting yet shifting.
Touching me, but not within grabbing distance.
It was like… a well.
"That was…" I trailed off as I lifted my hand. I couldn't see anything different, and other than an awareness, didn't feel any different either.
So when the little wisps of white-blue smoke trails, dancing off my hand and through the air like some sort of water feature when I stroked the well within me came as a shock.
They lasted only for a few moments, during which the pins and needles feeling rose up once more, this time centered on my hand. And it hurt.
"Did you think you would get it all for free? Power is never free, Kiddo. You've got to pay for it somehow, even if you don't know how."
I looked up. My Double was still there, legs crossed at the ankle as it somehow managed to sit on the edge of the sink. I never liked to talk to my Double, because that made it more real.
Yet… the way it acted, the way it spoke… I was no longer so sure that it was imaginary. It acted in a way that suggested that it saw things, that it knew things that I had no businesses knowing. I had no proof though, as no one seemingly ever saw it but me.
Was my Double a cape with a really good Stranger power? If so, why pick me to haunt? Because a power like this would only work if the person that saw them didn't talk about it, and I was able to do just that with my therapist. So it could have been, but then the other little things made that less likely.
Like its movement, the vanishing acts it did, how it just seemed to know about things about me and stuff happening in the world, and how it would show up to catch me the most by surprise.
Because really, how would I know about the upheaval of the Canary trial? How I could I know the names of the new lawyers?
What about the name of the newest Sentinel ship to be launched (the Shang 9)? Something that was kept secret from everyone because Sentinel hid their docks to avoid sabotage and cape attacks.
Or the destruction of Nur-Sultan by a Tinker who worked with digging equipment and might have been one of the Simurghs bombs given he was in Manila back in '08? Of who I knew the name of?
These were the few things that made me think that it was something… else. And I had read enough books throughout my life to see some connections between what I was seeing and a few works of horror.
Which was, quite frankly, fucking terrifying.
"You… you knew about this," I asked my Double.
I was breaking a rule doing this, acknowledging it, but despite the risks and unknowns that it presented, it was the only thing I hadn't tried yet with it.
Here's hoping that I don't end up trying to summon a tentacle-faced cosmic horror.
"About my power… Back in the hospital, you… you knew, you laughed when the PRT came to talk to me about what happened, and you giggled when they mentioned the tree."
Before Armsmaster had shown up to really explain things, the PRT had sent a few officers to talk to me, to discuss the things that I needed to know. It was common sense stuff really, that I had undergone a Trigger Event, that it had happened in school, that the PRT were investigating it, plus a few extra things like the PRT offering to pay for therapy (so that I didn't start going around and attacking people like other capes sometimes did).
It bizarrely reminded me of a parent-teacher meeting actually, a bunch of people talking about my life with dad sitting in, making plans for my future while giving me warnings about not making any hasty or foolish decisions.
Armsmaster had shown up later in the day to really explain things, and just as with the PRT guys, my Double was there, watching and making a few comments.
"What are you?" I ask. "Because… because I don't think you're a cape, and I don't think you are a figment of my imagination."
My double laughed, teeth flashing as it rocked back and forth.
"You think you'll get answers that easy? That everything will just… fall into place?"
It said, before zipping away and suddenly standing at the far end of the bathroom, hands behind its back and still grinning.
"That's not how the world works, Kiddo, you of all people should know that."
OK… so it wasn't going to be that easy, sure, why not.
I lifted my hand back up and pushed a bit of power through it, causing little wispy waves of energy to radiate from my hand. It didn't hurt as bad as the last time, just a stinging feeling mostly.
This… was different than what I had expected. The PRT hadn't really covered my power, mostly because they themselves didn't know what it was. They had asked me to do some powers testing, but it was something they mentioned in passing.
There were bigger issues that needed to be addressed at the time.
I did have plans to go in for it, eventually (or end up waiting for the PRT to make me do it), but with what had just happened…
I didn't make any ice, so, did I have several types of power? Like grab-bag or Trump type cape? Was the ice something else I could do, other than this whole… ripple thing?
Just what was it that I could do?
… I realized that I needed to go to the PRT about this, and not just because I myself wanted to know what was going on.
I didn't know how my powers worked. Sure, I had no plans on never using them, nor did I ever want them, and while my stance of burying my head in the sand made sense in the context of never wanting anything to do with my powers (which I was still standing strong on, even now), but unless I was missing something…
This wasn't ice.
The PRT wasn't going to just never check my power, that would just be idiotic, and if my power didn't have anything to do with ice…
Then what made the tree?
… I needed to find out, because if I wasn't the reason for the tree in the first place, then it wasn't my fault. But to know for sure I would need to actually use my power, fully and consciously, not just reflexively. Trouble was, if I was wrong, then a new ice tree could be formed, and I had no idea if I had any control over that.
So, I needed to get the PRT to test my power.
Which would actually work out for the both of us, the PRT would understand my power and (hopefully) stop worrying about me, and I get find out that I (hopefully) wasn't the one that destroyed Winslow.
I just needed to get a message to the PRT to ask about the testing, and soon. Because…
There was a chance that Winslow wasn't my fault.
Yeah, there was also the chance that I hadn't used my power fully and that I needed a few minutes to charge up before I went all… what would be the best word for a rapid growth of a tree or plant?
Either way, getting power tested would help in the long run, because I while I had no intention of using my power now, a few years down the line I might find myself thinking differently, because I had a superpower. Never mind how I got it, I had something that was a dream to damn nearly every kid at some point; everyone had once imagined being Alexandria, Legend, or Eidolon when they had been younger, and I was no exception.
Could I see myself going out and fighting crime? No. Being one of the minor heroes like Slacks or Red Twist over in the outskirts of the Bay? Yes.
Outside the big gangs and the PRT, there were around thirty capes that were classified as Rogues, and most of them were only seen in certain parts of the city or were barely seen at all.
Some like Parian provided jobs or services, others were little more than people in masks and jackets that showed up to help out when things got bad.
I could be one of those people. While my power might be stronger than most of theirs, there was no rule that said that I had to join a group.
Other than the fact that if I didn't I would be open to 'recruitment' by the gangs. But if I signed up with the PRT, I was almost guaranteed to be using my power to fight.
… on the other hand though, I would get introduced to the Wards, another group of people that I could become friends with if things went right. And that filled me with equal parts wariness and something like curiosity.
So far, the people I'd met and were starting to get to know were good people, and I was enjoying being with them, but it was the Wards and the PRT that had let Sophia get away with bullying me, so there was also that.
I knew that the Wards were unlikely to be responsible for Sophia, but if she acted anything like how she did at Winslow, why the hell didn't they speak up?
"You've been kinda quiet Kiddo, not thinking too hard are you?"
I flinched, but stood my ground and faced my Double, who just laughed that echoey laugh of his.
"… don't suppose you'd be helpful and explain anything that is happening to me?" I ask hesitantly. "Like how I owe you. For what? I don't know you."
Yes, my Double did scare the shit out of me (for several reasons), but there was only so long that you could try to not pay attention to something right in front of you before it just got stupid.
Plus, if it was part of my power? Going to the PRT for testing would mean that I could get rid of it, or at least learn to control it.
But if anything, my Double smiled even wider at my question.
"But we're friends Kiddo, even if you're stilling running from your past."
"You and I are not friends."
"Oh sure we are Kiddo, I'll be right there when you decide to face your past, just as I'll be right there when you face your future. Isn't that what friends do after all? Or the good ones at least, the ones that are there for you when you need it the most."
While he wasn't wrong, I wasn't in the mood for games, so I spoke over my shoulder as I began to walk away.
"That doesn't mean we're friends. If you wanted to back up those words then you would bother to explain a few things."
"But what would be the fun in that?"
Asked my Double as it warped to each sink to follow me.
"Where would this story go if everything was handed to you? How would this play progress if the ending was known?"
Well, so much for that plan. Now, I saw three choices for how I could deal with this:
One, I ignored it, and dealt with having a voice in my ear at times. Two, I would go the way of Alice, only instead of traveling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland, I could instead end up in Innsmouth.
And then there was the third option: finding out that it was a part of my power that I could turn off, or was a cape that had picked the school-destroying girl to mess with after my powers testing (and a bit of experience using said power to figure out which was it).
Obviously, I didn't want to go insane, and the while the PRT did bear some responsibility for this whole situation, given they covered most of North America, was made of humans that could and did make mistakes, and had been doing… ok, for over a decade allowed me to give them some benefit of the doubt as to not be incompetent.
Talks with Dad had helped with me dealing with Winslow, and despite our combined justifiable rage at it all, getting angry at the organization that had no good reason not to just throw the book at me for what happened, and gave us a fair deal (instead of just strong-arming us), while being known as the people that often would step up and fight people like the Nine, the Elite, the Endbringers, wasn't really a good thing, after all.
I paused by the bathroom door. "My life isn't some play for you to watch."
"All of life is a play."
My Double replied.
"Everyone, an actor, step in step, a plan shaped by their actions shaped by the actions of others. You are no different Kiddo. What do you think will happen if you choose to tuck your head down or raise it up, that the story will change? The only thing that will change is the details, Kiddo."
"So what, everything is predestined then?" I ask, turning to face my Double. "That nothing matters in the end because other people make the fates we choose?"
I should be doing this, talking to It, but I was just…
"A play, a story, a tale, a life; each has a middle, each has an end, and each has a beginning, but the order always changes. Different, but all the same."
Now It was just being obtuse and philosophical, two things I didn't need.
"… and if I don't want to play the game?"
"Everything is already in play Kiddo, all the pieces are in motion. Question is, are you going to try and change it? Or just run away like you've been doing?"
"I haven't been running away from anything."
"We both know that isn't true Kiddo, even now you're still running."
"What is that even supposed to mean?!" I exclaim. "What, are you talking about my power? About Winslow? Well one of those I'm stuck with, but the other I don't want to be a part of anymore, so sure, I am leaving that part behind me and moving quickly. Was I supposed to just do what had already been doing, just accepting what was happening and round over for it?"
"What if I'm tired of it!?" I ask. "I tried to leave things be, to let things go and just keep my head down and it. Didn't. Work."
"For two years I was bullied by my best friend, targeted, humiliated, and I still don't really know why! I didn't react to them because I didn't understand why me? I thought that they would get bored and leave me alone, but they didn't. I thought that if I didn't give them what they wanted they would stop. Instead it. Kept. Happening! I waited for the teachers to do something and they didn't. I waited for my dad to wake up and notice something was wrong and he didn't. And I waited for them to get tired of me not reacting and they didn't."
"This entire time, I've been putting my live in someone else control, waiting for them to do something to help me, and nothing changed!" I screamed.
Power burst off of me in a thummmbp! And little wisps of blue-white light raced into the air to dissipate around me.
The stalls rattled, the mirrors shook in their frames, warping the reflection of the room for several moments until they settled.
My Double was unmoved as I breathed heavily, and I glared at it for still having that damn smile.
"So I'm done with it," I hiss. "I can't… I won't…" I inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly.
"I put my life in so many other people's hands because I could do anything," I state. "Expecting things to... What? Get better? For them to help me? For things to change for the better without me doing anything? But it didn't work, that would never work, would it?" I ask my Double.
It stays quiet, despite all the talking it had done before, all while still retaining its smile.
"Yes, I am afraid," I continue. "But fear, is an artificial condition. It is brought on by outside forces. I. Am… Afraid… but that doesn't mean that the fear will control me, nor will I let it anymore."
"I don't know if you are some cape getting his or her kicks out of watching me, or if you are just a figment of my imagination, but I do know unless I do something about myself and my situation, nothing is going to get better. It won't. I can't just sit back and let the world control me, I… I have to be the one that betters my life," I finish in a whisper.
And that meant going to the PRT about testing, and very likely saying yes to joining the Wards. If my power wasn't the thing that destroyed Winslow then I would be… ok, and I would fight moving if it turned out otherwise and they roped me into it, same as if I had the option to still be a Rogue I would take it. But if they really fought for me to join the Wards…
Then I would learn to deal with it and be happy, no one got everything they ever wanted, after all.
Sure, it was placing my hands in another's once more, but that was unavoidable unless I vanished to some remote land where my nearest neighbor was miles away.
"… So fuck your enigmatic words and talk of fate, I don't really care right now, I'm going with something my mom once told me; don't look too far ahead, just solve the next problem, then the next, then the next. Eventually you'll either run out of problems, or one of them will kill you. In either case, a solution."
"So you think I'm running? Fine, I am. I'm running towards my future, towards a life that doesn't involve fear and anxiety everyone, one that doesn't have me constantly looking over my shoulder, or worrying about what someone has cooked up for me next. And if that life involves me putting on a costume and marching out with a smile in front of a camera for a year or two, then I'll take it, it would still be better than what I had before"
"I thought you wanted to be normal Kiddo?"
"… Yeah, I do," I say. "But that's not really an option, is it? This is kinda my reality now, and it sucks, but it's something that I'm going to have to work and deal with, 'cause it isn't changing anytime soon. And if it's going to happen anyway like you suggest, fine, but I'll make it happen on my terms."
"But isn't that what got you in this mess Kiddo? You picked a path, a choice, and made yourself into prey. And then were hunted."
… Winslow was something that I regretted, the whole business with Emma, the school, Dad.
There were dozens of things that I could have done differently, actions that I could have taken that would have changed things.
And I didn't do any of them, instead, I bowed my head and tried waiting it out, hoping that things would move on.
But I knew better now.
Life… it wasn't easy, or fair, but that didn't mean you should roll over for it. I wasn't going to repeat my old mistakes, I wasn't going to let myself wallow or let others shove me around anymore.
And I wouldn't sink to their level either, I wouldn't become like them to fight back, I'd seen what happened when you tried that at Winslow; it never ended well.
So I ignored my Double, and instead set my sights on something that I could actually do.
"Looks like you're finally shaping up Kiddo, have a plan for the road ahead? Or are you just going to wing it and hope for the best?"
…. There was something of a mountain ahead of me; the PRT, my new friends, school, my power, and I couldn't see the trail for it all.
Things were going to be hard; join the Wards or not? Use my power to fight crime? Or be a small-time player in the background? College? Like my mom wanted? Would I even end up staying in Brockton Bay? Would these new friends of mine end up being lasting ones? Or would I gravitate to new ones before the year was out?
So many questions, and there were likely even more that I couldn't think of.
It was intimidating, to have to start seriously thinking about your life and where you wanted, or even could, go with it. All the paths and what can be's, my options for everything and the unknown ways they would change.
But I did remember a quote, one of the ones that mom would use whenever I would complain about something, about how hard it was and how it never seemed to just be over.
"The journey of a thousand miles…"
I pushed open the bathroom door, and I didn't look back.
A/N: Something that I realized when I was writing this, Taylor is bit of a go getter isn't she?
I mean, even discarding everything Fandom, when Canon Taylor decides to do something, she does it.
Cape life, fighting Lung, the Bank Job, becoming a gang leader, fighting the Nine, giving herself up to the PRT, and everything else, all pretty much are things that Taylor just goes for (even if she wasn't aiming for that in the first place).
Considering what her life was like and what she gained from this personality trait it makes sense, and was the very thing that helped me figure this whole chapter out and how Taylor was able to bounce back from what she experienced, because I really had no idea how I was going to handle that transition smoothly (lest I left Taylor in the Semi-Broken state that she was in after Winslow).
This also has a bit of a hint of what I really see Wally as, and with Taylor being smackdab in the middle of several events about to converge, that makes her… interesting.
And you really don't want to be the sole object of Wallys attention, Rell can attest to that.
