AN: First, and possibly the only, interlude in first person. I felt this chapter worked better if was told from in Madison's head rather than third person. There's a lot of nuance that can be lost in third person that I didn't want to lose in this chapter. We also get to see her discover some things about herself and inadvertently use one of her powers.

I had no idea how Taylor dealt with the shit she was constantly put through. It was only Wednesday and I was already considering dropping out or killing myself. I had pulled away from Emma's group a bit since Monday and they smelled blood in the water and swarmed like the starving sharks they were. They would push me to get up to the front of the group to walk by Emma and Sophia. They'd push me while I was doing my make up to make me smear it. I had a drink or two spilled in my shoes. And this was just from disappearing at lunch and not actively coming up with ways to torture Taylor and others.

Fucking vultures.

Julia was especially quick to turn. I was never really close to her, but I did consider her more of a friend than the others. Guess I got a taste of what Taylor went through with Emma, not that I can say I probably didn't earn that. Needless to say that made sitting with my regular group in Mr. G's class a bit grating. We were all just ignoring the slowly growing elephant in the room. But I'd preferred that to having them grilling me over what was going on with me. I wasn't willing to let them pick at my carcass anymore than they had.

"Well, TV is definitely different." Heather twirled her hair with a finger.

"Oh, I know! Watching stuff from Aleph is such a different experience than watching stuff from here. It's like they have a whole different state of mind." Stacey droned. Her voice was always dull and no one could ever figure out why.

I tuned them out at that point. I didn't really care what Julia had to say and I didn't have anything to contribute. The assignment was to discuss the differences of media between Earth's Aleph and Bet. How different historical things shaped entertainment. I rarely watched Aleph imports unless it was super hero stuff and I wasn't willing to let them know that about me. Last thing I needed tacked onto me with my recent drop in status was that I was a cape geek and worse that I was a comic nerd. I wasn't ready for them to start making fun of me for that. I wouldn't have been able to handle it.

A loud bang snapped me out of my musing and I, like most of the rest of the class looked over to the cause of the commotion. Taylor had slammed her hand on the table.

"That's fucking bullshit, Greg, and you know it!" She pointed at him.

"It's not! They have way better tracks! Way more people like them!" Greg shouted back.

"You're not going to sit here and try to convince me The fucking Sex Pistols are better than The Misfits! The Sex Pistols have like two songs! Johnny Rotten is good but he's not Glenn Danzig good!" She was throwing her hands around, speaking very animatedly. I didn't know she liked punk rock.

"Johnny Rotten is way better than Glenn Danzig!"

"No he's not!" She shrieked. She opened her mouth to speak again when Mr. G stepped in.

"Alright, that's enough. What happened here?" He asked.

"We were talking about how some albums have different songs on them between Earths and this cretin starts with his blasphemous claims that The Sex Pistols are better than The Misfits! That's like saying The Trashmen are better than The Beach Boys!" Taylor threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

"They are." Greg said.

"You fucking—."

"Surfing Bird is a great song, alright!"

"It's a good song, but it doesn't stand up to *anything the Beach Boys put out."

"They're better." Greg said.

"Brian Wilson is a fucking genius and The Trashmen couldn't hold a candle to The Beach Boys if all of them had dementia." Taylor growled.

"That's enough." Mr. G cut in. "You shouldn't even be talking about this. I'll let it go this time, but don't let it happen again."

"Okay." Greg sighed.

"Yes, sir." Taylor said sarcastically, turned away from him.

"Good." Mr. G nodded with a smile, apparently not noticing or caring about the sarcasm.

Class quieted down quickly but there were still whispers about the argument. I thought it was funny, if a little heated for something like music. More than that I had never seen Taylor so passionate about something. It was… nice… yeah, that was the word. It felt nice knowing I hadn't helped *completely stomp out Taylors flames. There were still embers burning down there and I wanted to help reignite them. It would take a lot of time to build up the trust for her to let me help, but I was willing to do whatever I needed to get her to let me in.

The bell rang and I gathered my things, offering a quick "Later" to the Vultures before heading out.

—

Every day at lunch I would meet Taylor in a random spot of her choosing around school and she'd bring us to the isolation world. We'd eat lunch, maybe exchange a few quick words while letting our food settle, then we'd spar.

Well, spar was a generous way of putting it. Taylor kicked the absolute shit out of me every lunchtime. Happily. It wasn't even that she was the naturally better fighter, just that I couldn't touch her. She had to let me hit her and she almost never did. I had to earn my hits by catching her off guard enough that she couldn't phase. It was easily one of the more difficult things I'd tried to do. But I enjoyed our spars. There was something about them but I couldn't be sure.

A kick to the knee brought me back to reality.

I leaned back to dodge Taylor's punch and leaned back in to counter. I didn't know if it had been a feint or she just knew what I was going to do, but the next thing I saw was a heel in my face. She hit me square in the jaw and my head snapped to the side taking me with it. I stumbled, but not much else. The kick hurt, but it didn't hurt. The pain was distant and far away. Like I wasn't the one feeling it. It was like saying "ow" when you bump into something and expect it to hurt but it's just a dull thud that fades before the word leaves your mouth.

I blocked a hit and threw my hand out to attack. She ducked it and I bent forward slightly with an "Umph" as she hit me in the stomach. She usually followed those up with knees or uppercuts, so I was caught off guard when she instead stomped on my foot and palmed me in the chest, knocking me over and twisting my ankle. There was no real damage, it healed itself in seconds, but I was still confused by that one. I rolled back and got to my feet, dashing forward and throwing out a combo I'd seen Sophia use before. She dodged most of the hits but blocked the last one. I planned to use that to surprise attack her and swung my other fist towards her face.

She let it phase through her face and brought her head down, slamming her forehead into my nose. How she managed that so well with the six inch height difference I would never know. I stumbled back and caught a few more hits to the face. I saw her swipe at my face, aiming for my eyes and I felt a small pang of terror from deep within. I closed my eyes and felt the sharp end of her elbow land directly against my nose.

I fell back and didn't get back up.

"Alright, I guess we're done for now." Taylor said with a cheerful smile, stretching casually like she hadn't just broken my nose. I stood up and dusted myself off, wiping my face and smearing blood on my arm.

"You know you're a terrifying fighter, right?" I asked as we started toward the bathroom. We always finished after lunch. I wanted to avoid art as much as I could and Taylor avoided being around Sophia like the plague, which meant skipping P.E class. I'd heard about some of the things they'd done to her in P.E and I couldn't say I'd be eager to be stuck in a locker room with Sophia either, in her position. Especially not with Sophia still upset about the "animal" remark from last Thursday. No, it was probably better that she just skipped and dealt with her somewhere that was less volatile and isolated.

"I'd hope so." She laughed.

The rest of the walk to the third floor bathroom was silent. We rarely spoke to one another casually despite eating together every day. She just didn't want to talk to me, more content to read her books, and I didn't want to annoy her and I couldn't really think of anything to talk with her about. Unless she read comics or Cape Fiction there wasn't much to talk about. I didn't know her well enough to start a conversation that could flow naturally.

She brought us back to reality and I walked over to the sink nearest the door while Taylor sat on the counter at the furthest end of the bathroom. It was only about ten feet, but it was enough for me to notice. She never sat close to me during my after spar cleanups. Always as far from me as she could get. I couldn't blame her, but the isolation stung a bit.

She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her jacket and pulled one from the package with her mouth, lighting it with her thumb. That was still a trick I hadn't figured out how to do. I'd actually ruined more than one packs of cigarettes like that. Nearly blew a hole in the roof of the school too. She blew out a puff of smoke as I started cleaning the blood off my face. A bead of blood made it's way from my nose while was grabbing tissues and I stuck my tongue out to lick it. Looking in the mirror and seeing my tousled hair, the blood smeared across my face, and realizing how casually I went to just lick it away, I felt something. I… I looked hot. I didn't know what it was but seeing myself like that brought something out in me and I really, really liked it. Then I realized it was because it meant something. It meant I was alive. I was human. I could still bleed the same red blood as everyone else. I felt like a monster sometimes, but seeing myself looking all bloodied up, on top of just being something I apparently liked, reminded me I could still change. Despite how empty I felt I could still be a better person if I put some effort into it.

I couldn't help myself. I started laughing. A stifled giggle at first that slowly broke into hysterical guffawing. She didn't say anything, but I could see Taylor side eyeing me with something between concern and confusion, though I doubted the former was aimed at me. I managed to calm myself down after a few seconds and started cleaning again.

"That's not your usual brand." I said, pointing out Taylor had a different box of cigarettes than usual.

She twisted the box in her hand and nodded.

"I felt like spoiling myself today." She said. "These are Seven Stars. They're Japanese imports and they're expensive, so I don't smoke them often since Lucky Strikes are cheaper," I grimaced at the name. I had no idea how she could stand to smoke Lucky Strike of all things. "And I don't have money to buy imports even with as infrequently as I smoke."

"So Lucky Strike is just what you smoke because it the best of what you can get?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "I really like Sakura brand cigarette's too, but they're damn near impossible to find because it's apparently the brand Lung smokes. I get lucky to find a pack every few weeks."

"You smoke anything else?"

"This European brand called Black Devil. They do flavors, but I only really started them cause I like the boxes." That sounded like something she'd do. And why I started smoking American Spirits. I decided to change the topic. This was going well so far, so maybe I could get her to start trusting me a bit more. "There's another Japanese brand called Peace that I buy mostly because it comes in these cool metal tins."

"Why'd you tell me not to drop the popular girls? Wouldn't it be better just be open about me spending time with you?"

"Well for one that would paint a big target on my back, two: start some rumors neither of us want, and three: we aren't friends. But most importantly I'm not going to be here much longer."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm testing out of school soon."

"Testing out?" I was confused. I didn't think that was a thing people did. I knew it was possible, but it was so rare.

"Yep. Compulsory schooling age in New Hampshire is sixteen. Apparently they tried to raise it a few years ago but the bill went nowhere. So once you hit sixteen you can sign up for a test and if you pass you get the equivalent of a diploma."

"Like a GED?"

"Kinda. It looks better to colleges than a GED."

"We really just ruined school for you, huh?"

"Yep." She nodded.

It was silent, save for the sound of running water as I finished washing all the blood off of me. There was one more question I wanted to know the answer to and it had been bugging me all week.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, looking down into the sink.

Taylor was quiet for a few seconds before I heard a low groan of frustration from her. I looked up and saw her scratching her head violently as the groan increased in volume and emotion until she ended it and hopped off the counter.

"Because as much as I hate you, I'm trying, very, very hard to be a better person than that. I want nothing more than to hurt you in so many ways. Every time we spar I'm tempted just reach through you and tear out a rib and stab you with it." She punctuated this point by casually swiping her hand through the wall and showing me a metal bar that she pulled from inside. "It would be that easy. It would take no effort to just phase your spinal cord out of your body and let you die slowly. But that's not what I want to be. I don't want to lose myself like that and start just slaughtering people. I want to be better than that. And since you're really trying I thought the least I could do was be cordial, not nice, cordial with you. Civil. Despite everything you've done and helped do to me. As long as you don't try anything and continue to try to be a better person, I'm willing to reign in my anger and not make you choke on your own kidneys." She sighed as she leaned back against the counters, a puff of smoke leaving her mouth.

The scary thing was I didn't doubt for a second she would actually do that to me. I had learned Taylor was very patient but even she had her limits. She also wasn't the type of person to make threats she had no intention of following through with. If I pissed her off enough the chances of my choking on my own kidneys were high.

I nodded.

"Alright." I said. "I understand."

"Good." She sat back up on the counter and we didn't speak again until it was time for class.

—

"How was school, sweetie?" Mom asked as I got home. I was one of the rare days where she didn't have to spend the afternoon alone. Dad worked long hours and Mom usually wasn't home until around six or seven. Getting home from school to see her on the couch was unusual.

"It was… fine." I said.

"Fine usually means 'I don't want to tell you how bad it is'." She said. "Come sit down and talk about it with me."

I sat down, but I didn't want to talk. I wouldn't know where to start and I was terrified of her reaction if I told her everything. I knew she wouldn't approve, but I didn't want her mad at me. She could get really intense when she was mad enough, and learning I'd helped torture someone for nearly two years would probably send her straight past anger and right towards apoplectic.

"Well?" She asked.

"School has been… Less than good."

"Did something happen?"

"I… How do you start to get along with someone who hates you?"

"Why would you want to get along with someone who hates you? I know you like making friends, but you have to understand that not everyone will like you. If this person hates you that's—."

"Hold on. Let me rephrase that. How do you start to make up with someone who has every right to hate you?"

She blinked. Her eyes were darting around as she started to think over the question. Finally, her gaze intensified into the one mothers give when they're extremely upset but are reserving judgment until they know what you did.

"Why would this person have any right to hate you at all?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself. Even with my emotions having been muted for so long, this was something that made me feel deep fear.

"I… Have been… Less than friendly with her." I said.

"What did you do?"

"I… Have… uh…" This was embarrassing. Why couldn't I just get this out? I knew I'd done wrong. I knew I deserved to be punished for it. But looking at the increasingly upset and disappointed look on my moms face made me freeze up. It made my blood cold like ice and my heart speed up.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Her eyes narrowed.

I took a deep breath and centered myself. One of the few times I'd ever had to focus to not feel anything. I felt it all wash away and my mind clear.

"I… Helped bully someone." She gasped. "Really, really badly." I said, looking down. I'd rather focus on the floor or couch than see whatever she was feeling in her face.

I heard her breathing pick up and she started to fumble whatever words she was trying to speak. She took a few ragged breaths to calm herself down and I heard one harsh word leave her mouth.

"Explain."

"The short version is to keep my position with the popular group and be spared their wrath. It was free social points at first, but the longer it went on the more I hated myself for doing it. Now I'm trying to make it up to her because she didn't deserve any of it and I can't stand that I helped push someone far enough that I think she might be suicidal."

"WHAT?!"

I flinched back at that.

"She may or may not be suicidal. I can't actually tell because she's closed herself off to everyone. She said she has severe trust issues because the main bully was her ex-best fried. Since I've started to pull away from them they've started doing things to me too. Someone soaked my socks in water after P.E yesterday."

She was stammering again. Words half spoken or whole sentences jumbled into incoherent sounds of rage.

"I didn't raise you like this. I know social stigma can be a powerful motivator, but not to this extent. I'm glad to know you aren't so far gone that you'd try to justify your actions, but I can't tell if you're trying to make up with her because you're hoping to lessen your guilt, or if you genuinely feel bad about what you've done. I'm disappointed and angry at you, but I can't deal with this right now. So I'm going to need you to go to your room and not come out until your father gets home." She said the words calmly but her eye was twitching up a storm. I nodded and headed to my room while she relaxed.

I'd have a hell of a conversation later, and I'd probably be grounded for forever, but I didn't feel too bad. I laid back on my bed, tuned on my CD player, and let the world drift away.