Old Master 2.1

"Is it okay for me to admit that I'm a little nervous?"

"Honestly, I'd be more worried if you weren't. It is your first time."

"It's just… it's so big. I've seen big ones before but this is the biggest one I've ever seen! I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

"You can handle it. We'll take it slow; no need to rush."

"Can I at least change into something more comfortable?"

"You'll have to take it up with Glenn."

Behind us, a pair of PRT agents broke down into snickering laughter, much to mine and Weld's confusion. I tried my best to ignore them and fidgeted nervously. Yesterday, I had finally been unveiled to the public, which should've made this easier than it was. The truth was, even though Boston knew about me, I barely knew Boston.

Brockton Bay had been my home for my entire life; I knew the city inside and out, the general attitude, the territories, the districts. It was a lifeline so familiar that it wasn't until now, as I was preparing to leave the safety of the PRT building behind and go on patrol, that I realized how much of a gaping hole its absence left in me. Outside was unknown waters, and who knew what lurked there?

Yes I knew the gangs and I knew some of the landmarks, but that was the extent of my knowledge. Also, I hadn't actually been out in public since I had first woken up with my new body, which didn't help with the nervousness; and as helpful as Armstrong had been, I personally didn't want to put off my patrol.

If I waited any longer to join my teammates in the field, it was only going to make my anxiety worse. Better I rip the band-aid off now instead of waiting and letting my feelings fester. Of course, that didn't make it any easier.

Weld put a hand on my shoulder and gave me that reassuring smile he loved to throw around, "Taylor, Djinn. You can do this. One patrol around the block, if you're feeling into it, we keep going. If it's too much, we come back and give you more time to settle. Just tell me if you're feeling overwhelmed, got it?"

I looked down at him in wonder. Not at the gesture of kindness, because Weld gave those out like candy. No, I was in wonder at the turn in my life. Having people actually interested in what I wanted, what I felt I needed was… well, outside of my dad, it had been two years since anyone had taken what I wanted seriously.

"Okay." I shook my head and sucked in a breath, "Okay, yeah, let's do this."

He released my shoulder and nodded, then opened the door for us. There were multiple exits built into the PRT building, both as safety measures and as multiple entrances and exits for capes wishing to avoid being immediately swarmed by civilians. Since we were Wards, and I an untested one at that, we were never given 'dangerous' routes if the Protectorate could help it. In our case, it meant Weld and I would only patrol up and down a few city blocks, say hi to civilians and maybe get involved if there were any crimes in progress: Flying the flag, as Director Armstrong put it.

I adjusted my costume as I stepped out into the city for the first time, more than a bit self-conscious. Obviously no one knew who I was or had been, but it still felt wrong going out as a hero without a mask. Because obviously my face was my most recognizable feature now.

Weld put a hand to his ear and said, "Testing, Console, do you read?"

Hunch's voice sounded over the communicator, "Roger, Roger. What's your vector Victor?"

"Ugh," Weld rolled his eyes, "Let's keep the pop culture references to a minimum today, Console."

"Fiiine, if you want to be boring like that." Hunch huffed, "You're coming in loud and clear. What about the new girl, how's her setup?"

My 'setup' was a custom made headset that had been disguised as a circlet that wrapped around my forehead. Fun detail about my biology change had completely removed my ears as they had been, and replaced them with these odd 'sound holes' which meant I needed special equipment since a normal earbud wouldn't exactly fit. Hence the circlet/tiara thing that had, surprise surprise, been Glenn's idea.

I reached up and tapped the circlet. As long as I touched its outer edge anywhere, I could activate it., "Testing, Console, do you read?"

"Roger that, the genie is out of her bottle."

Before I could tell Hunch exactly where he could shove his hypothetical bottle, Weld interrupted me, "What's the status in our neck of the woods, Console?"

Hunch paused for a moment, and I heard the sound of keyboard clicking, "Well, Back Bay is looking pretty clear at the moment. Minor fender bender on Beacon street, emergency services are already on that, and a reported mugging on Massachusetts Avenue, second verse same as the first. Sounds like it's a pretty slow day, but expect that forecast to change at any moment.".

"Right, keep us posted then. Otherwise, we're going to head up Huntington to Copley Square then we'll circle back around through Commonwealth, give the folks at home a chance to get used to their newest defender."

"Roger that, I'll inform the boys upstairs." Hunch said, "Have fun out there you crazy kids, don't do anything I wouldn't!"

Weld smirked, "That's the idea, Console. Over and out."

The channel closed with a burst of static and Weld smiled at me, "You get used to it."

Huntington Avenue was a great example of how different Boston was from Brockton Bay. The buildings running along the street ran the gamut from brutalist concrete towers to older victorian style brick street houses with everything in between. It was a city with a very long and rich history, emphasis on the rich. Outside of the downtown area and boardwalk, Brockton Bay was a very poor city standing on its last legs. Boston meanwhile was a shining beacon of relative prosperity and hardiness in the face of an unchanging future.

As we stepped onto the sidewalks and started our patrol, this difference struck me like a bolt of thunder. The people that passed by us looked at Weld with familiar cheer and at me with genuine curiosity. There was no fear, no caution and no looks of general apathy or worse, outright hostility. In fact, most people actually smiled or even waved at us as we passed by them. They gave us a wide berth as we walked, but it was… ugh, putting it into words is difficult, but the closest I could think of was respect. There was a respect for us as we went about our business.

It didn't take long before I felt the nervous knot in my stomach begin to unwind and I stopped slouching, something I hadn't even realized I'd started doing. It was a survival instinct from my days at Winslow, a way to avoid drawing attention to myself. But, I realized after a few minutes that those days were behind me.

This was a new home, a new opportunity. Literally no one knew who I really was, or where I had come from. They all assumed I was like Weld, a Case 53 that had decided to sign on with the Protectorate for one reason or another. To the people of Boston, I was an untested hero, and that was it.

With this realization came a lightness in my shoulders, like a weight had finally been removed. To the people of Boston, I wasn't Taylor Hebert, the awkward weirdo from Winslow High. I was Djinn, the newest addition to the Boston Wards; I could be whatever the hell I wanted to be.

The feeling of freedom quickly ground to a halt as I realized that I had no idea what to do with this realization. Years and years ago, my former best friend and I would spend entire nights going over the kind of hero we'd be if we got powers. All that talk hadn't prepared me for the powers I'd gotten, and it was significantly easier to say what I wanted to do. Actually doing it proved harder than I expected.

I settled for just trying not to come off as a creepy monster in human clothes. I straightened my shoulders, swept my cape back and tried walking beside Weld instead of trailing behind him like a lost puppy. He glanced at me and the edge of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

"Now you're getting the hang of things."

"If you keep talking about it, I'm going to have a panic attack." I whispered to him under my breath.

He got the message and changed the subject, "So, this is your first time actually seeing the city, right?"

I nodded, thankful for the change in subject, "Apart from the drive in, yeah. I've never seen a city quite like it, but…"

I stopped short and mentally slapped myself. There was only so much I could talk with Weld about in public. After all, I did have a cover story, as basic as it was. If I started reminiscing about my home life back in Brockton Bay, someone would inevitably put two and two together, and that would be the end of Djinn the Case 53 Ward.

"But it can be a bit overwhelming?" Weld supplied.

I smiled, "Yeah, that."

Our conversation came to an abrupt end when the communicator crackled to life. "Console to Wards, we have an ongoing robbery at the intersection of Boylston and Clarendon; police are calling for an Ancile Protocol, I repeat, an Ancile Protocol."

Weld's face went serious and he tapped his comm. "Roger that Console, Djinn and I are on our way. Any details on backup?"

"Full time Protectorate members are otherwise engaged with the Teeth in Dorchester. Police have currently besieged the robbers, but they have tinkertech and… no cape. Definitely no capes. SWAT is dispatching, but the current roster is going to be overwhelmed soon, they need the extra support."

"Understood, we'll be there in two minutes; if you know anything about the Tinkertech, you can tell us on the way."

He looked at me, his face grim, "Well, looks like it's our lucky day. Come on, I'll explain on the way."

Weld broke into a sprint and the crowd of civilians parted like an ocean before him. I took off after him, easily keeping pace.

"What's an Ancile protocol?" I asked.

"Short term for 'we need a big tough guy to soak up some weapons fire'. I can't speak for the other branches, but in Boston we develop 'Protocols' for heroes in the roster. Ancile Protocol is what they use when they need my help, the Helios Protocol is for Kelvin, etc. If it's the entire Ward team, it's the Scouts Honor Protocol, and for all hands on deck it's an Apollyon Protocol. You're new so you don't have a protocol yet."

I nodded my understanding, and thought about what he said; several questions occurred to me and I didn't hesitate to ask them. Anything to keep my mind off of what was to come, I suppose.

"So what should I do then?"

"Stay back, assist anyone you see injured, and keep civilians away and calm. I have no idea what idiot thought it was a good idea to rob a bank within spitting distance of the PRT building, but you can bet that if they're packing Tinkertech, they aren't messing around."

He fixed me with a very serious expression, "I mean it when I say stay back, Djinn. We still have no idea how good your regeneration is. If there's anything that could counter it, it's tinkertech."

The tone of his voice sent chills down my nonexistent spine. Gone was the relaxed and good natured Weld I'd gotten to know over the past week. A serious and no-nonsense cape had taken his place, and I had no desire to test him. Nor was I in a hurry to test the exact limits of my regeneration. I could handle civilian duty though, that would be easy; people already naturally tried to avoid me, so keeping people out of a certain area should be a cinch. I nodded my assent and we rushed forward

We were about a block away when we started hearing the gunshots. Civilians were already fleeing in the opposite direction, in a surprisingly calm and orderly manner, some stopping to take video with their phones but most content to keep moving away from the chaos. I recognized the sound of police pistols, whatever kind they used, barking. I didn't recognize the roar of gunfire that answered it, but it didn't sound good at all.

That was an accurate prediction. The bank was built into the corner of the intersection, and the cops had quickly cordoned the area off. Several cruisers were parked in a ring around the bank itself, which was a tall multi-story glass monstrosity with a plain entryway and big open doors and windows and directly connected to older structures with stone and brick edifices. Unless the police had those areas locked down, how did they hope to keep the robbers from getting away?

The armored car crashed into the front of the bank was probably the answer; it didn't have any BPD markings on it, so it probably belonged to the crooks. Right okay, so the police were banking on the idea that if the robbers wanted to escape with their ill-gotten gains, they would have to use that armored truck. A nice idea, but it seemed that whoever had equipped these thieves had gone all out.

I counted four in total, moving slowly from deeper inside the bank back to their van. Three of them fired on the police with normal looking rifles, and had large duffel bags slung over their backs. The fourth was a veritable giant by comparison, and was casually reloading what looked like a single shot grenade launcher. All of them were covered in chitinous mottled green armor, giving them the appearance of bipedal beetles. The largest even had glowing red eyes and a small horn jutting from his forehead. Hunch had said there were no capes on the scene, so this was probably some sort of power armor.

Weld must've thought the same thing, because he cursed under his breath and said, "Great, Blastgerm. What is Blasto thinking?"

There were three main gangs in Boston: Accord and his Ambassadors, who occupied Charleston and were considered the most 'civilized' of the three, the Teeth who used to occupy Brockton Bay before the Slaughterhouse Nine nearly obliterated them, and Blastgerm the bio-tinker. Now that Weld said it, I had to agree with him.

Blastgerm, lead by the aforementioned Blasto, normally dabbled in narcotics. He made and sold bioengineered drugs for cash and mostly kept to himself, outside of occasionally unleashing the odd genetic monstrosity. This though, didn't fit what I had read about them; at best, bank robberies fell under the Ambassadors modus operandi, and that was rare.

Weld and I took cover in the outer ring of cruisers, the robbers hadn't noticed us yet. The cops were doing a good job forcing them to cautiously move forward towards their armored vehicle, but that wasn't going to last long.

The cop sharing cover with us looked at Weld with relief, "Oh thank god, it's you. We could really use some iron right now, Weld."

He struck up that smile again, "That's what we're here for, officer. What's the situation, any hostages?"

"No, they chased everyone out after crashing through the front door. They've been throwing explosives at us and firing back, but no one's hurt yet, I think."

We all looked down the line of cars, towards a cruiser that was burning with emerald fire. It was slowly melting into the ground, sending rivulets of molten steel running over thorns embedded into the asphalt.

"Not from a lack of trying." Weld noted.

He spared a glance over the hood of the cruiser and then ducked back under. "Okay, here's the plan officer. I'm going to cut them off before they get to their van, and I need your people to keep up the covering fire. Bullets won't hurt me, so feel free to fire away. While I'm doing that, Djinn here is going to look for injured while you all start pulling back. You think you can relay that to everyone else?"

The officer nodded and grabbed at his radio, "Works for me; I can handle two bit crooks, but I'm not paid enough to get in a gunfight with the beetleborgs."

Weld smirked and looked at me; I made no effort to hide my stunned expression. Obviously Weld had been in this situation before and the police trusted him a lot if they were willing to defer to his judgement. It would probably be a smart idea if I did the same.

I nodded my understanding, and moved to the rear of the cruiser. I heard Weld speak up behind me, "Once I engage them, you can move Djinn. Got it?"

"Got it." I confirmed.

As the officer conveyed Weld's plan to the rest of the assembled cops, the gunfire started to lull. It was at this point, I heard Weld take off, his heavy feed slamming hard against the pavement. There were startled yells, and the sound of glass shattering, immediately followed by gunfire.

That was my cue, and I started by rushing from one cruiser to the next, looking for any injured cops. To my relief, it seemed the cop was right when he said no one was seriously injured. Most of the officers were already falling back, while taking the occasional potshot towards Weld's skirmish with the armored thugs. I spared a glance while rushing to another cruiser and almost froze in awe.

Weld had molded one arm into a makeshift shield, using it to block gunshots from the smaller thugs, while his left arm had taken the shape of a blunted mace that he used to wail on the larger one, knocking him back step for step with each thunderous blow. The giant grabbed Weld's arm and wrenched it to the side with incredible strength. Weld responded with a shield bash to his armored skull, followed by a kick that sent him sprawling. The mace morphed into a slender blade and he lashed at the other three men. One tried to block the attack with the barrel of his rifle, only for Weld to cut clean through it and follow up with a haymaker that flattened the man against the ground.

So it went.

Whatever the armor did for these thugs, it didn't increase their speed or reaction times to match Weld's. It was astonishing to watch it from a distance, to see just how fast he was in a serious situation. A blur of iron, molten metal given purpose, he halted their advance in its tracks. No wonder they had only called for him, the guy new what he was doing.

With some effort, I tore my eyes away from the spectacle and went back to my far less glamorous duties of finding injured police officers. Most of the initial gunline had been abandoned, so imagine my surprise when I found two cops huddled near the far end, one cradling a bloody arm.

"What happened?" I asked as I rushed up to them. From the training I had received, the injury didn't look serious, and someone had already tried bandaging it. I could see some glass shards sticking out, and the broken window of the cruiser made it clear what had happened.

"Concussion grenade threw him through the windshield." the uninjured officer explained. "Nothing serious, I think, but we should get him to the hospital."

"Right, right." I said, trying to keep my mind moving. Getting them away from the bulk of the fighting was the main concern, nothing else mattered on my end.

"Okay, um… can you walk?"

The man grunted, "Good enough."

"Okay, okay, um… right. We're falling back, I mean you guys are. I'll shadow you in case they start firing towards us; I can handle bullets fine."

I mean, if having my arms ripped off barely phased me, I had a feeling bullets would fall under the 'non-lethal' category. Thank god, the officers didn't argue and started to move.

As they did, I heard Weld's voice. "Incoming!"

Something heavy sailed overhead, bounced off the cruiser, and rolled to a stop between the three of us. A fist sized object, covered in that same odd organic material that the thugs were wearing, with a familiar texture…

Oh shit, that was a grenade.

Oh shit, grenade!

The cops cursed and scrambled back, and I dove for the grenade. I could take damage, they couldn't. There wasn't even a debate, just an innate trust in my instincts as I dove, scooped up the grenade…

And promptly swallowed it whole.

Instincts bad.

My eyes went wide as the grenade plunged into my gut, and the cops stared at me, jaws agape. I only had time to shoot back to my feet, as my stomach began to rumble, and my entire world went white…

-M-

It had happened too fast for Weld to react to. One of the thugs he'd knocked down during his initial scuffle had gotten back up and grabbed the grenade launcher they had been using and tried firing it at Weld basically at point blank range. Either he had been suicidally stupid, or very confident in his suit of armor. The fact that he had missed even at their range was small comfort.

Weld watched the grenade sail over a cruiser, heard the startled cursing and then saw Taylor scrambling to her feet, an expression of shock and regret plastered across her features. And then she exploded into a fountain of pink gore, splattering the car and everyone within a thirty foot radius in pink muk.

He didn't have bodily functions anymore, but Weld felt sick to his stomach when bits of his teammate splattered across his face. Behind him, one of the thugs gagged and started retching. People started screaming in horror, cries of alarm and surprise ringing out from hardened police veterans. It took a lot to shake someone that worked in law enforcement; this was definitely on that list.

A spark of anger bubbled up in Weld and he turned back towards the thugs, pointing at them with his blade. The man with the grenade launcher let it clatter to the floor and raised his hands in surrender, "I swear to god, I didn't mean to! We weren't supposed to kill anyone, get the money get out, thats it! I didn't mean to kill her, I swear!"

Weld opened his mouth to respond, when… the goo started to move. He felt it, wriggling on his face, running along the crevices of his skin. The feeling was so alien that he practically jumped out of his skin in surprise when it happened. Weld looked at the splattered gunk covering his body, watching it slowly writhe and move, pulling away from his bodysuit and dropping onto the floor in heaps.

More retching ensued, from multiple people as pink goo started rapidly flowing back towards the source of the explosion, quickly mounting into a wriggling mass of pink pulsating flesh. Steam billowed from the mass of flesh even as it grew larger and larger, taking on a familiar form.

One leg formed and staggered forward, then another, a childish imitation of the original. A torso started to rise, arms melting off from its side, and spewing steam from holes along the bicep. A misshapen head rose from the shoulders, topped with a twitching tendril.

And then it all seemed to come together as color and shape flowed into the mockery. Taylor exploded back into life, bent over at the waist, fists clenched tight and lips spread in a furious snarl, exposing fangs. Her eyes burned red, and steam whistled from the pores along her body.

Weld felt his body freeze at the sight of her eyes. There was no intelligence there, no sign of reason or emotion. Well no, that wasn't true, there was emotion there. Raw unfiltered rage.

"That...HURT!" Taylor howled, a scream so primal and so deafening that all fell to their knees clutching at their ears in pain. Somewhere, windows shattered, and Weld could've sworn he felt the ground shake.

He had no time to register it though, Taylor was already moving. She sprinted, a lopsided unbalanced lope, straight across the pavement towards the van. One of the thugs had tried sneaking towards it; Taylor shoulder checked it hard enough to send it tumbling out into the street, and grabbed the mook by the throat.

"No, please, I didn't do it!" the man screamed.

Taylor slammed him into the ground, once, twice, three times, then sent him spiraling into another man hard enough to crack their armor. The third man lifted his rifle and opened fire on her, for all the good it did. Taylor sprinted through the gunfire, letting bullets harmlessly pass through her body, the wounds instantly closing as soon as they were made. She barreled over the man, skidding to a stop on the other side of him and smashing her foot against his chest.

"You hurt me!? I hurt you!" she screamed, kicking him again and again until the armor made a sickening crack and the man stopped struggling.

She sneered and turned on the last man, the largest of the four. He stepped back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. Tremors of fear visibly wracked his body and he took a slow step backwards.

The moment his foot touched the ground, Taylor's sneer morphed into a manic grin and she did something Weld hadn't seen her do before. Both her arms stretched like putty, arcing across the space between her and the thug and wrapping around his arms and legs, snakes entwining their prey.

Taylor lifted the now screaming man up into the air and her grin grew unnaturally wide, literally stretching from ear to ear; then she started to squeeze. With enough time and enough effort, she may have crushed the man, armor or no. There was no way to tell, as Weld found his bearings and charged toward her.

"Djinn! Djinn, stop it!" he yelled, and tackled her to the ground from behind.

Taylor dropped the man with a startled yell, even as Weld put her in a full body lock, wrapping one arm around her neck, the other around her chest, and locking his legs around her waist and holding tight. She slammed her fists against his arms, denting the metal but doing no real harm for the moment.

"Taylor, it's me. It's Weld, your teammate, your friend!" he whispered into her ear. The struggling stopped, though her body remained tense.

"You're okay Taylor." Weld spoke softly, calmly, "You're okay now. No one's going to hurt you anymore, okay? You're safe now, you're with friends now."

She tensed again, a brief surge of strength that threatened to break his grip on her; the girl was incredibly strong. Then, as quickly as it came, her rage seemed to pass and she calmed down into slow, guttural sobs.

"It's okay Taylor, it's okay." Weld repeated.

By now, the cops had rejoined the scene, many of them rushing to the injured thugs. He heard one mention that the armor was busted, but apparently that just meant that whatever had been running it was shutdown. Whoever was inside it was fine.

Taylor let out another sob, and spoke in a raspy voice, "I'm okay now. I'm calm. I'm calm."

Weld slowly released her. Taylor immediately collapsed to the floor in a heap, covering her face. Her sobs sent tremors through her body, and they didn't cease even as Weld put a comforting hand on her back and spoke soft words of encouragement.

"Everything's going to be fine Taylor. You'll be fine. I'm here for you."

He had been where she was, he knew what she was going through, and there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to let her deal with it alone.

A/N: Phew! Sorry for the later update. Wound up doing a bunch of (possibly unnecessary) research on Boston geography since its, ya know, an actual real city with about 200-300 years worth of history. Didn't really wanna wing it on that one, felt disrespectful in a way. End result of this is that I'm also working on a map of the city with general gang territory mapped out and everything, so expect that in the next few days!

So yeah, on the chapter itself... I'm upset with the beginning but I'm VERY happy with how the end turned out. Hope you guys enjoyed it, please let me know below what you thought, comments and criticism are welcome and encouraged.

Next chapter is going to be equally as interesting. How will Taylor deal with the fallout of this incident, will Weld get her the help she needs? Tune in next time to find out, on Dragon Ball Z Majin!